Page 2 of Catching the Mistletoe

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, curious and a bit anxious about what could make my ever-composed sister look so uneasy.

“We got an email this morning,” Genevieve hesitated, her eyes drifting to the flickering flames in the fireplace, avoiding my gaze.

“An email? From whom?” I prodded, leaning forward a little, feeling a little frisson of anxiety at how cagey she was being. It was so unlike her.

She took a slow sip of her tea, as if gathering her thoughts—or maybe stalling. Finally, she set her cup down and looked at me. “It’s from the producers of ‘Chasing the Mistletoe.’”

Phew, not a life and death issue, then. I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “Oooookay. And? What did they want?”

She looked at me, her eyes a complex mix of reluctance and something else I couldn’t quite place. “That’s what makes this, um, interesting.”

I was practically vibrating with curiosity at this point. “Gen, spill. You’re killing me here!”

She finally broke into a small, almost sheepish smile. “Alright, alright. So, they want to do another show for the holiday season. They’re calling it the ‘Caravan of Christmas.’ It’s a travel show that will go across America delivering Christmas presents to underprivileged kids.”

I was stunned for a second, images of decorated RVs and beaming kids filling my mind. “Wow, that actually sounds... amazing?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“Humph. You don’t seem that keen.”

“Look, the idea is wonderful, Bella. I mean, delivering gifts to kids who might not get any? That’s right up our alley.”

“It sure is. So, what’s the catch?”

“I feel terrible about this, but I can’t seem to get over it. Being back in the public eye is just not for me. The pressure, the constant scrutiny—I can’t go through it again. And with the ranch, the youth camp, and everything else, Noah and I are already stretched thin. They’re looking at a start date of 20 November, which would mean cancelling the winter camp and we can’t do that.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” She paused, her eyes clouding with a hint of guilt. “Like I said, I feel terrible for even considering turning down something that could make such a difference. I mean, it’s for the kids, you know?”

I nodded, understanding the conflict that was tearing her up inside. “You can’t do everything. You’re already making a huge impact with the youth camp. Don’t beat yourself up for knowing your limits.”

She sighed, her shoulders drooping a little, as if relieved to hear someone else say it. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m definitely right.”

“Still, it would be a real shame if it falls through just because of me. I’m hoping they’ll find someone else to do it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they will. The show was huge.” I sipped my tea, gazing into the crackling fire as I thought about everything Genevieve had said. She was right. It would be a real shame.

“Bella…”

Turning back to my sister, I straightened my spine, a little freaked out at the intensity in her eyes. “Yeah?”

“You,” she breathed.

“Me?”

“Yesss! You should do it. The caravan! Oh my god, it’s so perfect! I’m going to call Evelyn right away and see what she thinks.” Genevieve shifted, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans for her cell.

“Hold up, hold up, hold up. What are you doing?” I grabbed her arm before she could bring up Evelyn’s number. The idea of me, Arabella Snow, taking over a nationwide Christmas caravan? It sounded insane, but also kind of... exciting?

“Shit. I’m sorry, I got carried away for a minute there. But think about it, Bella. It’s a great cause. It would give you a chance to see more of the country, and it’s something different, something just for you. You don’t have to answer now, but will you think about it?”

My heart was racing. Was this the adventure I’d been craving? The change I needed? It was tempting, oh, so tempting. But could I really step into Genevieve’s shoes, step into the public eye, and pull off something like this?

“I’ll think about it,” I finally said, my voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and excitement. “But no promises, okay?”

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