Page 45 of Dancing in Lake Mistletoe

“Now, you have to kiss him,” Josie shouts.

“I do?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Yep. It’s the rule. He kisses me every time I pass under it to walk to my bedroom!”

“Well, a rule is a rule,” I say as I stand up on my toes and wrap my arms around his shoulders.

I press my lips to his quickly and try to back away, but his arms come around me and hold me in place. Then, he covers my mouth with his and kisses me more thoroughly.

Josie giggles.

“That’s how you kiss under a mistletoe,” he says as he releases me.

“My turn!” Josie bellows as she jumps to her feet and runs to him.

I step aside as he scoops her up into his arms and peppers her face with a dozen kisses as she squirms.

“That’s enough, Daddy,” she squeals through her giggles.

He finishes and places her back on her feet.

We finish the tree, and Dutch totes the bins back outside.

When he returns, he dusts snow from his hair. “It’s really starting to come down out there.”

I look out the front window and see the snow falling in big, fat flakes.

“I’d better bring in some wood,” he says.

He fills the rack with cut firewood while Josie and I make more cocoa. He builds a fire as the wind howls outside, sounding like it’s alive, rattling the windows and whistling through the gaps in the front door of their house. Snow is coming down in thick, blinding sheets now, piling up fast on the porch and burying the town of Lake Mistletoe under a deep white blanket. I glance outside again, watching as the world turns darker, the snow swallowing everything in sight.

We cuddle under blankets in front of the fire and watch a movie until the electricity begins to flicker. When the livingroom finally goes black, Dutch grabs a flashlight and goes out the back door to fire up the generator.

Josie and I raid the kitchen pantry and find a set of candles and a book of matches.

I light them just as the generator hums to life, and the light above the kitchen island comes back on.

“Looks like a blackout on the street,” Dutch says when he returns. “The generator should keep the fridge and hot water running, but I’ll get some more candles from the garage.”

We quickly light all the candles and place them around the living room. And I move the pot of cocoa from the stove to the hearth to keep it warm.

Dutch is pacing in the living room, phone pressed to his ear, his jaw clenched. He’s been getting call after call ever since the power went out.

Apparently, there’s a major blackout in Lake Mistletoe and Sun Valley, taking down the whole grid. Half the town is probably sitting in the dark, wondering when the lights are going to come back on.

I’m sitting on the couch with Josie, wrapped in a blanket, her small body huddled close to mine. The temperature in the house is already starting to drop, and the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.

Dutch hangs up, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His eyes meet mine, and I can see the worry there. Not for himself—Dutch is as steady as a rock—but for the town, for everyone who’s going to need him tonight.

“They need me at the power station up on the mountain,” he says, his voice low and urgent. “This storm knocked out half the lines. It’s gonna be a long night.”

I nod, understanding immediately. Of course they need him. Dutch is the one who knows this town’s electric system inside and out. If anyone can get things back up and running, it’s him.

“Go get dressed, baby. I’ll take you to Grandma’s,” he says. Then, his eyes come to me. “I’ll drop you off at the inn on the way. Keller should have the generator going there.”

Josie whines. She doesn’t want to get dressed and go out in the snow.

“I can stay with her,” I say. “You go. Do what you need to do.”

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