“Calm down. Listen, I want to sign me and Dad up for a ride. Do you have an opening?”
Stella loosened her stranglehold on the clipboard and held it out in front of herself. She ran a finger down the paper. “Yep, I have a couple of openings this afternoon.” She wrote something down. “I’m heading out with Romeo in a few minutes, but Jesse, the guy who is doing the rides, will be here. He’ll tell you what to do.”
Perfect. Operation Sleigh Ride was a go.
Now she just needed her husband to get home. She sent him a quick text in what she hoped was a casual tone, asking about his ETA, before heading back to their cabin.
She’d read two chapters of her Agatha Christie novel when she heard the car with its signature engine tick pull up outside. Soon a door slammed, and she waited for Bob to come through the door. She giggled as she thought about what he would say to their sleigh ride adventure.
Instead of the cabin door opening, she heard voices. Peeking through the front window, she saw Bob conversing with an older man who wasn’t wearing a jacket. Bob clapped him on the shoulder and steered him toward their cabin.
What in the…
“Marilyn?” Bob’s face crinkled in a smile as he led the older man through the door. “This is my new friend, Gerald. I thought he’d like to come in for a little lunch.”
She stared at him a moment. Even in the middle of nowhere, Bob couldn’t let a stranger stay a stranger. Would it kill him to ask her before inviting someone in for lunch? Then again, his gregarious nature was one of the things that had attracted her in the first place.
“Of course.” She gritted her teeth. “I can whip up a few sandwiches for us.”
“Oh, no, I can do it. I didn’t mean you had to serve us. Sit down. I’ll make the sandwiches. Besides, I think you’ll like hearing Gerald’s story.” Bob went to the tiny fridge and began pulling meat and cheese out.
Marilyn looked at him in wonder. It wasn’t often Bob was the one making food. Nothing sexist about it—just the way it worked in their marriage. She turned to their, uh, guest. “Want to sit at the table, Gerald? It looks like our waiter will be serving roast beef on rye any minute.” She poured their guest a cup of coffee and took a seat opposite him.
From the counter, Bob said, “Gerald was telling me about his wife Phyllis. They used to come here every year around this time.”
The old man, who looked to be pushing ninety, nodded. “Phyllis and I came here for many years. I don’t remember why she couldn’t come this year.” His face clouded and he stared into nothingness for a heartbeat. His next words came slower. “Maybe her mother needed her. She always goes to help her mother with her baby brother. That boy is so fussy. Her mama needs all the help she can get this time of year.”
Oh.
Bob gave her a look over his shoulder. She tilted her chin slightly. Yes. She understood what this was about now.
“Tell me about your wife.” For the next few minutes, Gerald told her stories about his Phyllis and the red car they used to own. She laughed at the antics the couple had gotten into, like the time Gerald had taken Phyllis out in the field to check on the crops but the car battery died.
“I swear I wasn’t trying to make a move on her or anything!” he said, eyes twinkling. “The car had an old battery and it just died. My brother had to rescue us in the tractor. We never did live that one down.”
A knock sounded at the door. Bob opened it to find a young man, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, standing there. “Have you seen— Grandpa! What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Tom. I met some friends.” Gerald waved.
Tom’s face relaxed. “Thank goodness. I thought I’d lost him.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Bob said. “I found him outside without a coat on. We were going to feed him lunch and then contact the authorities.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad he’s all right.” Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve already lost him once on this trip. Took five years off my life.”
“Let’s step outside a minute.” Bob took the younger man by the arm and moved out the door, shutting it behind himself.
Marilyn focused back on Gerald. “It’s so nice that your grandson could be here with you.”
“Yes, he’s a good boy.”
Bob came back in, shutting the door behind him. “Good news, Gerald. Tom said you could have lunch with us. I’ll walk you back home a little later.”
They ate their sandwiches, their conversation seasoned with stories.
Marilyn looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes until their scheduled sleigh ride. “Um, Bob, can you join me in the bedroom for a minute?”
“I’ll clear the table.” Gerald began stacking plates.
“I can do that later,” Bob said.
“Least I can do,” the old man said.
She shut the door behind them and took Bob’s hand. “I’ve signed us up for an adventure.” He quirked an eyebrow, but she was determined. “We’re going on a sleigh ride!” She held her breath. Would he refuse? Could he hear how much she wanted to do this with him?
“Sounds like fun.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Let’s do it.”
“Okay! It starts in fifteen minutes though, so we need to hustle.” She felt like clapping her hands together in glee.
Bob grinned back at her. His crooked smile, hidden for so long lately, and the twinkle in his eye lit a spark in her heart. Oh, the man was handsome. Much better looking than Harrison Ford could ever be. He’d grown dearer to her with every year.
He pulled open the door. “Gerald? How would you like to go on a sleigh ride?”
Wait. What? She reached out to pull him back through the bedroom door, but he was already fully in the kitchen area.
“My lovely wife has signed us up for a ride. We’d love for you to come.”
She was sure her mouth stood open. As Gerald turned her way, she quickly schooled her features into what she hoped was a warm smile. “Yes, we’d love for you to come.” If she’d stumbled on the words, she prayed the men hadn’t noticed.
Great.
CHAPTER 5
THURSDAY, 2:02 P.M.
Okay, maybe she had been a little dramatic before.
Standing in the crisp December air had a way of cooling her off, bringing clarity. Who cared if Gerald rode along? It wasn’t like they were on a private sleigh ride; the driver would be there, after all.
She could still bring some romance to this outing.
The light snow from earlier had cleared, and now the sky was a brilliant sapphire. The anxiety of the general scramble for hats, gloves, and jackets just a few moments ago in the cabin fell away as they walked toward the sleigh waiting near the edge of the woods ringing the property.
The sleigh had two seats facing each other. A heavy blanket was laid across each seat. After the driver checked their names off the list, Marilyn climbed in and scooted over for Bob to sit next to her. Gerald clambered in opposite. A hanging rope of sleigh bells on the horse’s harness tinkled a melody.
Their driver introduced himself as Jesse Schmidt. He looked the part of a winter cowboy in his fur-lined suede jacket, flannel-lined jeans turned up at the cuff, and well-worn Stetson. But the stereotype of the taciturn cowboy didn’t fit this guy. He kept going on and on about local history, the habits of horses, the average snowfall of the area, and several other things Marilyn didn’t give a hoot about. When he started to explain that Domino was a Gypsy Vanner cross, she just tuned him out altogether.