Page 108 of Mistletoe and Mischief

Beth chanced a look at Kent and found him glancing at her at the same time. They broke into giggles, which they did their best to hide.

The group’s enthusiasm faded after two or three songs, and their voices gradually dwindled away.

“Remember our first Christmas?” Kent asked, keeping his voice low.

“I thought about it...recently. It was a magical time for us, wasn’t it?” He met her eyes for several seconds until she forced herself to look down. The intensity of the attraction she felt confused her. Disconcerted her. Oh, dear. It was happening again and this time Danielle was with them.

As the sleigh glided through the snow, she pointed to another turn in the road, one that cut through the property.

“Right or left?”

“Left.” She was so caught up in the moment that she’d saidleftwhen she meantright.

Kent turned right. “Sorry,” he said, sounding flustered. “You said left, didn’t you?”

“No, this is fine,” she told him. She clenched her gloved hands in her lap, grateful that the wind and cold were a convenient excuse for the color splotching her face.

“Oh, look,” Sophie cried. “It’s snowing again.”

Thick, fat flakes drifted lazily from a slate-gray sky.

“It’ll probably melt by morning,” Danielle said, “and everything will be mud and slush.”

“But for now it’s beautiful,” Beth countered. This was the coldest winter on record in the Pacific Northwest. The weatherperson broadcasting from the Seattle TV station had been effusive about the unusual amount of snow in the area, especially this early in the winter.

“I’m cold,” Danielle complained. “And I can’t move my arms.”

“Let me help you,” Bailey said.

“Ouch! You’re pulling the blankets tighter. I feel like a sausage.”

“I thought you said you were cold.”

“I am, but I want to breathe, too,” Danielle snapped. “Take this ridiculous thing off me.”

“Girls,” Beth said, twisting around. Danielle was right; she did resemble a sausage. “Make her comfortable.”

“Can we go back to the house soon?” Danielle pleaded.

“I’ll head over there now,” Kent told her. He glanced at Beth and grinned boyishly. “Okay, navigator, which way?”

“Recalculating, recalculating,” she said, using the tinny voice of her car’s navigational system.

Kent laughed and turned the sleigh around when he came to a place where that was possible.

“Do you ever think back to those early years?” he asked with his attention focused on the road ahead. “When we were first married...”

The snow was coming down thicker and faster, making for limited visibility.

“I...try not to, but yes, I do.” She hadn’t wanted to admit that, but it seemed senseless to deny the truth. “You?”

“Sometimes.” He paused. “What happened to us, Beth?”

“I...wish I knew.”

“Me, too.”

“Are we there yet?” Danielle asked plaintively.

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