A Snowglobe Christmas Page 10

  The town of Snowglobe experienced a power outage. Has that ever happened to you? Describe your reactions. Was the town council right to shut off all the light displays?

  What is the climax of this story? Describe the moment when Amy changes. What changes her and why?

  A Family’s Christmas Wish

  Lissa Manley

  To Pamé, for your sympathetic ear,

  wonderful friendship, unwavering support

  and much-appreciated cheerleading. Love ya!

  Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your path.

  —Proverbs 3:5–6

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Dear Reader

  Questions for Discussion

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  As Owen Larsen walked up the snow-covered front path of The Snowglobe Bed-and-Breakfast, he flipped his three-year-old daughter Jane’s hood up onto her head. Fat snowflakes silently drifted to earth, blanketing the ground in a glittering coat of white.

  Of course, they’d be having a white Christmas; it had been snowing solid for almost a day, which was pretty much the norm in Snowglobe, Montana, this time of year.

  “Daddy, I like snow,” Jane exclaimed in her cute, high-pitched voice, holding her hand up to catch a few flakes. “Pretty.”

  He hiked her further up into his arms, pressed a kiss to her forehead, then carefully headed up the rock stairway that would take him to the front door of the B and B. On his way, he noted that the stairs had obviously been shoveled earlier but were getting covered again, quick. “I know you like it, sweetie.” Anything white and fluffy captivated Jane.

  This would probably be the last regular snowfall he and Janey would see in quite a while; from what he understood, Moonlight Cove, Washington, their soon-to-be home, was known more for precipitation of the liquid variety than snow.

  No matter. He was after a fresh start and an escape from heartbreaking memories, not good weather. And after praying to God for guidance, Owen firmly believed the job waiting for him in Moonlight Cove, Washington, was what he needed since Kristy had died a year ago. Hanging around this town wasn’t high on his list now that Kristy was gone.

  Shifting Jane again, he raised his hand to knock on the door, which was flanked by 1930s style narrow leaded glass windows depicting snowy mountain scenes. Very appropriate landscape for a Montana mountain town that was covered in snow for a good part of the winter.

  Jane squirmed in his arms. “Want down, Daddy.”

  He obliged and set her on her feet, hoping Sara Kincaid, the owner of the inn and the person he was coming to see about repairing her roof, didn’t mind that he’d brought Jane along for their estimate appointment.

  Sara had sounded pretty desperate on the phone this morning, and given that his babysitter, Mona, had to go out of town due to a family emergency, he’d had no choice but to bring Janey along. He’d need to find a temporary sitter while he cleaned up some loose job ends before they left town in two weeks.

  “Take my hand,” he said to Janey. She grabbed it just as the door opened, and then, all three-year-old shyness, sidled over and hid behind his leg.

  Sara Kincaid stood on the other side of the doorway, and his breath hitched just a bit as he got a look at her this close. He’d seen her in town since she’d moved here a few years ago, of course—Snowglobe wasn’t that big—but always from a distance. He’d had no idea how all-out pretty she was with her wavy, long dark hair, gorgeous hazel eyes, and creamy complexion. She wore dark jeans and a long-sleeved forest-green shirt that complemented her green-tinted brown eyes really nicely.

  “Mr. Larsen. Thanks for coming out on such short notice.” Her eyes snagged on Janey, and Sara smiled gently. “Oh...and who do we have here?” she asked, raising her brows, keeping her voice soft and kid-friendly.

  Owen looked down, pressing a hand to the back of Jane’s head. “This is my daughter, Jane. My babysitter had to go out of town suddenly, so I had to bring her with me.”

  Sara squatted down. “Well, hi there, Jane.”

  Janey buried her face in the back of his leg, remaining silent.

  “She’s a bit shy,” he said. “Once she warms up, though, she’s not shy at all.”

  “Lots of kids are that way,” Sara said, looking up at him. The winter light hit her eyes just right, turning them to the color of gold-flecked pine trees.

  The sound of running feet echoed through the air, and a blonde, curly-haired dynamo of small girl who looked to be about Janey’s age blasted into the foyer and literally skidded to a stop next to Sara. The girl wore pink leggings and a pink-and-purple-striped shirt with a pink horse printed on the front.

  “Hi!” She smiled, then caught sight of Janey peeking out from behind his legs. The girl tugged on Sara’s sleeve. “Mama, why her here?”

  “Although, as you can see, this one isn’t shy,” Sara said with a quirk of her brow. She put her hand on top of her daughter’s head. “Mia, this is Jane. She’s here with her daddy, who’s going to help me with the roof. Remember I told you he was coming?”

  The girl pursed her lips. “I bemember.” Her mouth broke into an impish grin as she regarded Jane, her head canted to the side. “I’m Mia. I have a kitchen in my room,” she said, only she pronounced it woom. “Wanna see it?”

  Janey’s hand loosened on his leg and she moved a few inches away from him, eyeing Mia, clearly interested in the girl’s offer. A play kitchen was a big draw, and there was nothing like another kid—and an outgoing one, at that—to get a shy one to relax.

  “Well, either way,” Sara said, moving back. “Let’s all get inside where it’s warm.”

  In tandem, he and Janey stepped into the house, which he noticed smelled like cookies baking. His mouth watered; Kristy had always been the baker in the family, so he couldn’t remember the last time he’d smelled the scent of homemade cookies.

  Just as he started to unbutton his fleece coat, Mia reached out and took Janey’s hand. “Let’s go. I let you use the oben.”

  Janey looked up at him.

  Sara closed the door and piped in, “Her room is right around the corner.”

  “Go ahead, honey,” he said, applying gentle pressure to Janey’s narrow shoulder. She hadn’t started preschool yet—no sense in starting here when they were on the verge of moving—so it would be good for her to socialize with a child her own age.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Janey followed Mia down the hall and around the corner, shedding her coat as she went. They were almost exactly the same size, one blonde and one brunette. Cute.

  He looked at Sara, then went over and picked Janey’s coat up off the floor where she’d unceremoniously dropped it. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought her. As I said, my babysitter had to go out of town to tend to her ill sister, and I haven’t had time to find alternate care.”

  “No problem. Mia loves to play with other little girls.” She held out a hand. “Can I take your jackets?”

  “How old is she?” he asked, shrugging out of his coat. “They look about the same age.”

  Sara took the jackets from him and draped them over on the antique oak hall tree just below the stairs. “She turned three last month.”

  “Janey’ll be three next month,” he replied.

  “Ah. Two peas in a pod, then.”

  “Looks like it.” He gazed around the small foyer, taking in the large garland-festooned oak staircase
rising directly in front of them as well as the parquet flooring and raised oak paneling so popular in 1920s and 1930s style architecture. “This place is gorgeous. Was it built in the thirties?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “I’m impressed. You’re close—it was built in 1929. How did you know?”

  “I’m an architecture buff, and I’ve done some woodworking in my day.” Although, not since Kristy had died. Being a single dad didn’t allow him time for hobbies. Or much of anything, really. Not to mention he just hadn’t had the heart for much socializing since he’d lost Kristy.

  He wondered if he ever would.

  “How long have you been running this place?” He’d heard somewhere in town that Sara, a Snowglobe native, had moved back and taken over the B and B. He’d also heard that she was a single mom, but he didn’t know the details of that story. Looked like they were in the same boat, though, as single parents.

  A shadow crossed her eyes. “I inherited it from my great-aunt, so when...um, life threw me a curve, I came back and converted it into a bed-and-breakfast.”

  Curve? Yeah, he was familiar with those. “How’s business?” he asked, noting the distinctive absence of guests. In fact, except for the sounds of the girls drifting in from around the corner, it was dead quiet. The parlor to the left of the foyer was empty, despite the fire crackling in the fireplace and glittering Christmas tree just visible in the far corner.

  Another glimmer of distress flashed in her eyes. “Not so good. With the roof leaking, I’ve had to cancel a weeklong booking of people in town for the ski race.”

  Of course. Lots of people came to town for the annual event. “Oh, wow. Seems like this kind of stuff crops up at the worst times, doesn’t it?” He only hoped whatever was wrong with her roof could be taken care of quickly, before he left town.

  “No kidding,” she said. “Winter should be my busiest time, and I need to have good occupancy to keep this place going, so I really want to get the roof fixed as soon as possible.”

  “Let’s go take a look,” he said, gesturing up the stairs for her to proceed him. “I take it the problem is upstairs?”

  She started up the staircase. “Yes. This place has three bedrooms up and one down, which Mia and I share. So she and I have a place to sleep, but because the party booked needed all three guest rooms and I only have two available right now because of the leaking, they canceled.”

  “Couldn’t you book a smaller party?”

  “I suppose I could have, but I didn’t want to given I was going have a contractor banging on the roof for the next little while.”

  He saw her predicament. “Ah, makes sense.” He hesitated on a stair. “You think the girls will be okay?” he asked.

  “We’ll only be up here for a few minutes.”

  “Okay, lead the way.”

  She showed him the wood-paneled bedroom affected by the water damage, and his attention was immediately drawn to the beautiful, period antique furnishings and carefully coordinated wallpaper and accessories. He also took note of how she’d paid attention to the finest details in the room, down to the wicker baskets filled with water and packaged treats suitable for a late night snack.

  He was really impressed. Obviously, Sara had put a lot of work and expense into this place.

  When he got a look at the damage, though, his heart sank a bit; she had some pretty serious water leakage going in the bedroom she’d shown him, which he suspected had been brought on by the recent heavy snowfall.

  Once he’d seen what he needed to see, they went downstairs and checked on the girls who were happily “cooking” in Mia’s kitchen. And then, with Sara’s promise to watch the girls, he went outside, grabbed his ladder off his truck and climbed up on the roof to take a closer look.

  Sure enough, the snow had put weight on some worn areas of the shake roof, which had then caused leakage when water had hit some rusted flashing. All in all, a bad situation. And not one that could be fixed quickly.

  Unfortunately, he wouldn’t have time for this job.

  Sara was waiting for him in the foyer when he came back in the house. “So, what’s the verdict?” she asked, her voiced tinged with worry.

  No sense in sugarcoating things. “You’ve got a pretty bad situation up there.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Oh, no.”

  He briefly explained what was going on. “You’re going to need new flashing, repair and a lot of new shakes.”

  “How much is that going to cost?”

  “Ballpark, probably at least a thousand dollars.”

  Her eyes widened. “That much?”

  “To do the job right with good quality materials, and keep future leaking under control, yes.”

  She pressed a hand to her mouth.

  “Sorry. Obviously, I don’t like delivering bad news. But I don’t think I should minimize the situation. That tactic won’t do you any good in the long run and might ultimately end up costing you more.”

  “I appreciate your honesty.” She sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. “It’s just that...I hadn’t planned on this expense.”

  “It’s not something you should wait on, either,” he added. “With the snow falling and piling up, it’ll only get worse, especially when it warms up and all of that snow melts.”

  She nodded. “I have to be honest with you, Mr. Larsen.”

  “Call me Owen.”

  “Okay, Owen.” She shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans. “I don’t have the money for these repairs.”

  He blinked, not quite sure how to respond to that. After all, he was a businessman, with his own expenses to cover—if he had time to do the work, which he didn’t.

  She held up her hands. “Before you respond, I have a proposition,” she said, lifting her chin.

  “Go on.” No harm in hearing her out, and he just didn’t have the heart at the moment to zing her with the bottom line.

  “You said you needed day care for Jane while your babysitter is out of town.”

  “Yes,” he said, suddenly seeing where this was going.

  “So, do you think we could work out some kind of exchange, day care for roofing work?”

  He rubbed his jaw, regretting her idea wasn’t going to work. He’d really like to help her out, and her offer would be an ingenious solution to both of their problems. “Normally, I’d say yes.”

  “Normally?”

  Nodding, he went on. “But Janey and I are planning on leaving town in a few weeks, and I don’t have time for this job.”

  “Leaving town, as in permanently?” she asked.

  “Yep. I’ve had a job offer in Washington State, and I want to get there before Christmas.”

  “Oh, dear,” she said, chewing on her lip for a few moments. “I don’t mean to be rude, but may I ask why you even came over if you didn’t have time for the work?”

  Valid question. “I was hoping the job could be done in a few days, squeezed between my other jobs, before we head out. But to be done right, that’s not the case, and I don’t want to cut corners to fit a tight timeline.”

  “Okay, I can appreciate that.” She spun around, her head down.

  Owen felt about as big as a gnat.

  She turned back around, her expression set, yet deliberately so. Obviously she was putting on a brave face. “Well, thank you for coming by.” She grabbed his coat and handed it to him.

  “Would you like me to call someone else for you? Art Cramer is good and reliable, and he won’t try to rip you off.”

  “Unfortunately, unless I can exchange day care with Art, I can’t afford to pay him.”

  “Art’s kids are all grown,” he replied, regretting that wasn’t an option for her.

  Her eyes clouded over. “Oh.”

  Owen paused, torn. He wa
sn’t the type to leave someone high and dry; in fact, if he weren’t leaving town, he’d take her up on her deal in a second and give her a big discount, too. He knew all too well how rough it was being a single parent.

  Besides, he’d been raised a Christian and had been taught to help others whenever possible; his mom was always helping someone out in the small Seattle suburb in which she and Dad resided, usually with him by her side.

  “But that’s not your problem,” Sara said, her jaw set at a stubborn angle. Clearly she didn’t ask for favors often.

  He liked that. Probably more than he should.

  Before he could respond, Mia and Janey came running out, each dressed in princess costumes and carrying plates of pretend food they’d “cooked” in the play oven.

  “Look at me, Daddy!” Janey crowed. “I a princess that can cook!” She spun around, her face glowing.

  Mia giggled. “Me, too!” She twirled around. “Look at us!”

  In unison, they laughed, then ran off together, presumably for more cooking and dress-up.

  His heart lifted. He couldn’t remember the last time Janey had had so much fun. Sure, she was generally a happy kid; he was there for her as often as possible and made sure she had everything she needed. But the fact remained, she could use a new friend to play with.

  And the new friend’s mother needed someone who could repair her roof.

  That would be him.

  He looked at the ceiling. How could he refuse? He could reschedule the Wilson family’s job for next week, sure. They were out of town for the holidays, anyway, so that job was flexible. And he could call Art and ask him if he could take on Ben Montrose’s deck repair. He was guessing that would be no problem, seeing as how Art was semiretired and free to do odd jobs that came along.

  Owen’s brain clicked forward, and he suddenly remembered that his old foreman Jeff Rogers owed him a favor. Maybe he could help Owen out, and they could get the job done in record time if they worked long hours. Plus, he had to have day care for Janey in order to finish up his other jobs. He needed this arrangement.