Page 8 of Catching the Mistletoe

My ears pricked up at Dad’s question because I wasn’t sure if anyone had approached Mack about it yet.

“I haven’t talked to him about it yet. We didn’t see the point until we were sure Arabella was up for it.”

Sylvie’s frown deepened, her anxiety tangible. “Honestly, I can’t see Mack going for it, seeing as he’s so quiet and reserved. And what then?”

Yeah, what then? It didn’t seem like anything we’d said had eased my mom’s momma bear instincts.

Dad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “How about we cross each bridge as we come to it. Noah can speak to Mack; see how he feels about this.”

“Yeah,” Noah agreed. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow and see where it’s at.”

The uncertainty of it all hung heavily in the room. No one could predict Mack’s reaction, and that unpredictability added another layer of complexity to the situation. My heart sank a little. It all seemed so incredibly unfair that it made me want to cry. I knew my parents wouldn’t, or couldn’t, stop me from doing this. I was twenty-six years old for fuck’s sake. But I’d love to have their support. Which would be more forthcoming if a certain broody cowboy got on board. So yeah, the future of this trip, my chance at something more, now hinged on the decision of a man who was as unreadable as a blank page.

Mom got to her feet, looking exhausted. “Think I might turn in. You coming?”

I shook my head. “Think I might stay here for a bit.”

“Okay.” She went to say something else, but closed her lips firmly.

As though I could read her mind, I said, “No, I won’t forget my coat and yes, I’ll make sure I wear my scarf for the two-minute walk home.” It came out a little bit pissy, when I’d actually intended it to be teasing. Mom flinched in response, which made me feel two feet tall. Suppressing a sigh, I stood up and went to her, giving her a hug. She almost sagged with relief, and those two feet shrunk to one. I didn’t mean to be such a bitch.

“I just...”

“I know, Mom.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

CHAPTER4

Mack

“Ijust don’t see what the issue is.” Noah’s brush glided through the gray mare’s coat with practiced ease.

I focussed on the rhythmic motion of my brush against the horse's hide, muttering, “I know you don’t.” It was easier than meeting his gaze.

“The Caravan of Christmas is a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s got the potential to raise so much money for the kids we help. Imagine the difference it could make.”

“I get the allure, Noah. Really, I do.”

He was eyeing me like some kind of puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. “You’re not one to shy away from something that could be good for everyone. And it’s not like you’d have to do much in front of the camera, with Bella there. What’s eating at you?”

I let out a slow breath, keeping my attention on the horse. “It’s a huge time commitment and there’s so much work to do here, for starters.”

“You’re talking like you’d be going on some solo mission to Mars. It’s a few weeks, man, not a lifetime.”

“It might as well be,” I said, more to myself than to him.

Noah chuckled, but it was a knowing sound that made me tighten my grip on the brush handle. “I’m sure we can hold down the fort for you.”

“Except that two of us would be going.” There was that clenching in my gut at the thought of Arabella, making my hand tense.

Noah blew out a breath. He’d caught the tension. Like he caught every damn thing. “I know there’s some sort of issue between you and Arabella. I’ve never understood it, but it’s none of my business, and I’m certainly not going to push you for details.”

“Appreciate it.” If there was one person in the world, I would have talked about this with, it was Noah. My brother in every way that counted. But my feelings for Arabella, how deep they ran…No.

“I don’t see why you can’t at least be civil with each other for the small amount of time you’d be away. Who knows? Maybe you’ll come back friends. I know that would make Genevieve happy. It could be the best thing you ever did.”

---