Page 4 of Under the Mistletoe
Great.
Not only was she not getting that family Thanksgiving, but now she’d have to pull someone from their family time to help her.
* * *
He didn’t have time for a big family dinner today, but Logan Kingsley couldn’t very well drive the two hours south to his parents’ house today only to download his manuscript from his editor andnotstay for Thanksgiving.
Logan secured the lock on the cabin door, then wound his way down the porch steps to the driveway. The dark wood cabin built into a hill had the main entrance on the second floor off a large wooden deck. It wasn’t fancy. A few bedrooms and a main area that served as living room, dining room, and kitchen, but he didn’t need more.
He’d gotten this place at a steal a couple years ago and had planned on making it just a writing cabin, but after last year, the break away from everything had been good. Life was easier with fewer people in it. Dogs were much more loyal anyway.
He reached the bottom of the steps and scanned the snow drifts in the surrounding dense woods. No sign of Cal. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and released a piercing whistle into the air, then waited.
He needed to start editing his manuscript today, but with no internet at his remote cabin, his options were limited. He’d just have to make it a short visit because he had a gut feeling his latest book would be no small amount of work.
His first three novels in his epic fantasy series hadn’t been easy, but they had been a story inside of him bursting to be told. They’d taken untold hours of tedious rewriting to hammer into a final form, but the stories themselves had been a passion. Book four? Not so much. Every scene, every chapter, every bit had been a fight to get his characters to perform.
But he’d done it, and now with his editor’s insights, he would make it better. What was the old saying?Books aren’t written—they’re rewritten.He was ready to get rewriting.
Logan swung open the rear door to his 2023 Bronco, then flipped up the rear window as the jingle of a collar reached him just before Cal bound toward him. His labradoodle was so matted in snow that Logan could barely see the dark brown of his fur. But with the way his pup’s tongue hung out of his mouth, Logan couldn’t begrudge him having the time of his life.
“Dude, you are a mess.” Logan stopped Cal and brushed him off the best he could. “Good thing I love you. Want to go for a ride?”
Cal’s whole backside wiggled, and the moment Logan patted the side of the Bronco, Cal leapt in, circled the back three times, and then landed with a flop on the blanket that had become a permanent fixture on the floor. With the back seat down, the dog had plenty of space to make his own, and he definitely hadn’t been shy about doing so.
Logan secured the back, then walked around to the driver’s door and got in. He was glad he took the time last week to put up the fluorescent road markers to line the driveway. Once off his property, navigating the trees would be a lot trickier now that the winding dirt path had been erased by the eight to ten inches they’d gotten last night. Logan started the engine and put it into four-wheel drive. His tires struggled to find purchase on the uphill slope, but once he locked the differential, he made steady progress out to the main road. He’d have to pull out his plow attachment soon, but he could handle this.
He reached the main road in a matter of minutes. It had been long cleared, and the surface was even dry from the sun. He unlocked the axle and put it back into two-wheel drive before turning south. The roads were pretty quiet, no doubt because most people were already with their families, elbow deep in pumpkin pie. He passed a familiar bend in the road. Nothing about it looked any different from the rest of the forest, but it was the unseen boundary of civilization and cell service. He reached for his phone but set it back down. He’d enjoy the peace a little longer.
He could just drive to the local diner only thirty minutes away to download the file. But who knew if they were open on Thanksgiving or if their internet was even working? It seemed to go down every other week. Besides, he hadn’t been to his parents’ in two months and even then, it had been a drive-by. For the most part, his family visited him under the guise of weekend vacations, but he was pretty confident they were only making sure he didn’t turn into a full-on hermit.
Almost two hours down the road, he couldn’t put it off any longer. He powered on his phone and connected it to the CarPlay app. Let the never-ending notification chimes begin. His remote cabin had definitely helped him make his last few deadlines, but living without communication had its drawbacks. He’d checked into satellite Wi-Fi, but the trees surrounding his cabin blocked any hope of that.
When the notifications stopped, he glanced at the icons on the display in his car. Six new voicemails, zero emails, and over three hundred texts. Awesome. That wasn’t too bad for being over three weeks since he’d last checked in.
He pressed the phone icon to play his voicemail.
“Logan, this is Sandy.” Good, he was hoping to hear from his editor at Palmer & Jones Publishing. “I plan to have your manuscript back in your inbox the day before Thanksgiving. I don’t need to remind you that this is a tight turnaround. After your two extensions, we need you to make this your top priority.”
He glanced at the email icon again. Zero. Strange. He checked the date of the voicemail. Sandy had left that nearly two weeks ago. He pressed play on the next message.
“Hey, Logan, this is Mark.” His agent’s deep voice came over the line. He turned up the volume. “I have some exciting news. Give me a call when you’re back in service.”
About the missing manuscript or something else? He checked the time. Almost eleven. But with it being Thanksgiving Day, he’d wait until this evening. He pressed delete and waited for the next message.
“Lo-gan!” Liam’s familiar voice echoed through the car. “You are missing it! Switzerland is amazing! You should be here.” That was pretty much how Liam started every phone call. But the adventure life was for his twin. Logan preferred the quiet cabin. “Anyway, I got a new gig offering paragliding tours here. It’s sweet cash, and every trip down is awesome. Well, almost every one. Yesterday, the lady I took down screamed the entire time. In the end she said she had fun, but I’m pretty sure I’m deaf in my left ear now.”
There was a muffling sound, then Liam came back. “I gotta go, but tell everyone Happy Turkey Day, and I’ll try to call Mom later, but the time difference makes it tricky. Love you, bro.”
The line ended, and Logan deleted the voicemail.
The next three were spam and he deleted them. No more from his editor. Strange. Had she sent it to the wrong email? He tapped on the display screen of his Bronco and called his brother Luke.
Luke answered on the second ring. “Hey, you’re in service.” His voice lowered as he seemed to be making his way to somewhere more private. “Does that mean you’re coming to dinner after all?”
“I’m about five minutes from the Heritage exit. Mom and Dad still have no idea?”
“I think Dad suspects, but not Mom. She’ll be thrilled. Hold on.”
