Page 13 of Matchmaking Under the Mistletoe

“You know darn tootin’ well what I’m talking about!” Huey exclaims, causing me to chuckle. “How was her first day?”

“Pretty good, I guess,” I reply, not really knowing how to answer that.

“What do you mean, ‘you guess’? Did you not help her get settled today?”

“Yeah, I did. I mean, she looked pretty nervous at times, but from the sounds of it, she’s had a rough couple of days, so I think that’s understandable.”

“Yeah, you're right about that. You think she’s gonna stay?” the older man asks, concern obvious in his voice. To some it may seem strange that Huey’s this concerned about someone he just met yesterday, but for as long as I can remember, he’s made it his mission to take care of everyone he meets.

“Well, she didn’t run screaming when I went over everything, but the snow has kept most of the locals away. To be honest, that part has me a bit concerned. We both know Springside isn’t exactly gentle with new arrivals, and I get the impression Millie doesn’t like talking about herself,” I admit.

“I mean, I love the people of this town, but when word gets out, we both know they’ll be like a dog to a bone. They’re gonna go crazy over her. Remember earlier this year when the new fire chief moved in? They’ve barely gotten over that one, and he’s already engaged,” I continue, suddenly worried about the shitshow that’ll be.

“Son, you ought to know better. You know that Sheriff Mitchell’s wife can’t hold water. He told her about Millie as soon as we got off the phone yesterday, and it hit the STS within the hour. As soon as the ice is gone, I’m afraid Deer Valley will be overrun with old ladies wanting to know her life story.”

Letting out a groan, I run my hand over my face. “Great,” I say without any enthusiasm. The STS stands for “Small Talk of Springside”, and while it started out as a prayer request group chain for one of the local Sunday School classes, over the years it’s morphed into a town-wide gossip email.

“Hell, if Miss Sally gets a hold of her, she’ll be out of here, car or no car,” I groan, referring to the town's biggest busybody. She’s infamous in Springside for verbally attacking the town’s newcomers, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her say anything nice to anyone. All of us locals know how to put her in her place, but while I’m sure Millie can take care of herself, my stomach churns at the thought of Miss Sally using her usual antics.

“Well, I say we stall 'em for as long as possible. I’m sure Millie needs some stuff from Saddle Ridge. The girl barely had anything in that little bag of hers. I’m sure there’s some things y’all will need for the maze next week. Why don’t y’all get out of town tomorrow, and I’ll try to hold off some of the most eager nosey Nellie’s,” Huey suggests.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I say, as I pull into the driveway of my house. “I forgot to get her cell number today though. Could you send it over?”

“Sure thing. Listen, Brian, I’m not trying to overstep. I just think that girl needs this town more than she knows. You know, it might need her too. But what the hell do I know? I’m just an old man with too much free time on my hands.”

I open my mouth to say something, but my retort dies on my lips. Aside from his joke about his age, I think he might be right.

We talk for a few more minutes about various people in town, before agreeing to meet for dinner one day soon. Huey took me under his wing during my first term as mayor when he was still leading the fire station, and our monthly dinners have become a routine part of my life over the last seven years.

When I click to end the call, I put in the number Huey just sent me and type out a text to Millie.

Me: Hey, it’s Brian. I hope you don’t mind, but Huey gave me your number. Would you be up for a ride to Saddle Ridge with me in the morning for some supplies?

Millie: Oh hi! Yes, that works for me. What time?

Me: Let’s plan for 8. I’ll pick you up at the inn.

Millie: Sounds good. See you then.

Leaning back in my seat, I blow out a breath realizing I just volunteered to spend the entire day tomorrow with my very off-limits employee. Great. I guess there’s no time like the present to test my self-control.

The next morning,the snow on my drive over to Deer Valley has almost completely melted, and the sun has already started warming the brisk South Alabama air. I’m about to pull into one of the parking spots to wait for Millie, when I notice her huddled outside by the door. Pulling over to her, I unlock the door and wait for her to get in.

“Good morning! I hope you haven’t been out here too long. You didn’t have to wait outside. It’s still so cold out,” I say as soon as she settles into my passenger seat.

“Good morning. And it’s no problem. As wonderful as the inn is, I was starting to get a little stir crazy,” she says before handing over a coffee cup to me. “I went back for another latte and thought you might need a little caffeine, so this one’s for you.”

I smile at the gesture and take the cup from her. “Thanks. I didn’t have time for coffee this morning, so I appreciate it.”

Putting the cup to my lips and taking a sip, I try to hide my grimace. “Let me guess—caramel gingerbread latte?”

“Of course! With extra cinnamon. I literally dreamed about this coffee last night,” she says with a moan.

I smile at her before forcing myself to take another sip.God, I freaking hate cinnamon. But as Millie does a happy dance in her seat over the drink, I can’t bear to break it to her that I think this is possibly the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.

“I figured we could get some of the decorations we’ll need for the event next week and there are a few other stores close by where you can grab any of the necessities you may need. Does that sound okay?” I ask, taking yet another sip of the coffee from hell.

“Yeah, that sounds great if you’re sure we have time. The bag I could get to in my car only had leggings and sweatshirts. I’ve already worn the nicest things I have, so I need to grab a few more outfits while we’re there.”

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