After they’d ensured Jack still had the arbor in storage, they headed a few miles outside of town to gather the mistletoe.
Kat still couldn’t believe she’d been roped into the excursion. Although she’d enjoyed working on the display last Christmas, spending the afternoon with Jack Gardener made her uneasy. She found him much more appealing than she wanted to admit.
Not because of his charisma—she didn’t trust charm. To be honest, she couldn’t quite pinpoint why she felt so drawn to him. She suspected it had something to do with his kind eyes—the gateway to a person’s soul, as Fern described them. They were warm and unguarded, yet she could tell he’d seen his share of pain, too. She wasn’t sure if she believed in kindred spirits, but if she did, Jack Gardener would certainly come close.
As they rattled down a dirt road, she gripped the worn handle of the passenger door, cringing as every nut and bolt in the ancient Chevy pickup seemed ready to shake loose. In hindsight, she should have driven herself. At least then she wouldn’t have been forced to sit in such close proximity, inhaling his heady scent of chicory and woodsmoke.
“Are we almost there?” she asked as they turned down an even more dilapidated lane.
No sooner than the question left her lips, she gasped as a breathtaking home came into view.
Or rather, a mansion would be more accurate. Two stories tall, the palatial Colonial-style estate boasted a grandiose front porch, stately columns, and several chimneys. There had to be dozens of rooms inside, not to mention a wing composed almost entirely of tall, elegant windows.
“What is this place?” It appeared fit for royalty except clearly no one had lived inside in decades. The white exterior paint had all but peeled away and the windows that weren’t boarded were coated in dust and grime. She almost wept to see so much beauty in such horrendous disrepair.
“It’s nothing special. Just a house no one lives in anymore,” Jack said simply, parking at the end of the circular driveway.
“Are you serious?” Kat hopped out of the truck, her eyes wide and incredulous. “It’s the most stunning home I’ve ever seen. Why would anyone leave it like this?”
Jack shrugged, striding toward the bed of the truck to unload their supplies.
Kat surveyed the neglected structure, her chest swelling with emotion. What a gut-wrenching waste! Whoever owned this property should be ashamed of themselves. Didn’t they realize some people would give anything to own a building this beautiful?
“Ready?” Jack asked, arranging a ladder between a pair of slender tree trunks.
For the first time since their arrival, Kat pried her gaze from the mournful mansion and noticed it was surrounded by towering sycamores. Though they’d lost most of their leaves, they still looked regal, their blanched bark dazzling in the afternoon sunlight. Glancing up, she noticed large bundles of mistletoe draped in their spindly branches.
“I’ll chop them down, you catch them in this.”
Their fingers grazed as he handed her a five-gallon bucket, and he made no effort to release his grip. Her breath hitched as he tilted his chin, gazing up at the mistletoe above their heads. “You know…” he drawled, his eyes glinting.
Flustered, she yanked the bucket from his grasp and blurted, “Don’t worry, this is strictly professional. I promise, I won’t kiss you under the mistletoe.”
The humor immediately left his eyes and he cleared his throat. “Glad to hear it. Otherwise, with this amount of mistletoe, we’d never get any work done.” He grinned, but it lacked its usual warmth and sincerity.
She returned his smile, equally forced. What was wrong with her? Why did she say that? Ugh. She wished she could take it back.
“We should hurry,” he said crisply. “The temperature just dropped.”
As they worked in silence, Kat mentally berated herself for her slipup, then agonized over why it bothered her so much. It wasn’t as if she wanted to kiss Jack under the mistletoe.
Because she most certainly didn’t.
Jack hacked into the clump of mistletoe a little more vigorously than necessary. He needed to get a grip. So what if she promised not to kiss him under the mistletoe? It wasn’t as if he’d expected her to. They barely knew each other. But for some reason, realizing the possibility was now off the table made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.
To add another blow to the afternoon, he hadn’t anticipated her strong reaction to seeing the house. The property—and all of its untenable implications—left such a bitter taste in his mouth, he often forgot other people found it attractive. Kat had been so taken with it, she seemed to think the hands-off owner had committed some sort of travesty.
So much for a perfect outing together. In fact, Jack couldn’t imagine things going any worse.
Just then, a single snowflake settled on the end of his nose.
Warily, he glanced up, his gut clenching as he took in the canopy of dense storm clouds overhead.
“Is that—” Kat gasped, drawing his attention to where she stood at the base of the ladder.
Her eyes wide with awe, she watched as delicate flecks of snow swirled around her. “It’s snowing!” Stretching out her hands, she spun like a small child, her face radiating pure joy and wonder.
“You must really like the snow.” Jack smiled, transfixed by how beautiful she looked, her vibrant red hair sparkling with silvery specks, her cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement.
“More than I ever imagined! It’s gorgeous!” She opened her mouth, catching a flake on the tip of her tongue. “It tastes good, too.”
Jack chuckled as he descended the ladder. “You’ve never seen snow before?”
“Nope! And I don’t want it to ever end!”
“Well, good news for you. It won’t be stopping anytime soon. But the bad news is the flakes are getting thicker and falling faster. We need to get back into town before we’re stuck here.”
“If we must,” she sighed, taking one last longing glance at the house. Suddenly, her eyes widened. “What’s that?” She pointed toward the front porch.
Jack followed her outstretched hand, squinting at something white and lumpy protruding from behind a wide column. “I’m not sure.” It was hard to see anything through the thick veil of snow.
“I think it’s a dog.” Before he could stop her, Kat inched toward the house, careful not to startle the pup with sudden movements.
Jack followed close behind in case the animal proved unfriendly. As they neared the broad steps, the indistinguishable shape came into focus. Large and solid white, the dog appeared to be part Siberian husky, maybe even wolf.
“Hey there, boy,” Kat purred, tiptoeing closer.
The dog’s chin rested on both paws, his piercing blue eyes vacant and glassy. He didn’t budge a single centimeter as they approached, his limp tail tucked beneath him.
Lowering herself an inch at a time, Kat perched on the top step and slowly extended her hand.
Jack’s heart thundered inside his chest, every nerve in his body ready to leap into action if the dog lunged toward her.
But the poor weary pup barely even blinked.
Kat let the dog sniff her fingers before gently scratching the top of his head. “What a good boy,” she cooed, then glanced over her shoulder. “We can’t leave him here. He’ll freeze.”
Jack had been thinking the same thing. Without a word, he mounted the steps and crouched beside the dog. “Bear with me, buddy,” he murmured, scooping his listless body into his arms. With smooth, even strides, he carried him toward the truck and nodded at the passenger door. “Would you mind?”
Kat swiftly yanked it open and stepped aside while Jack laid the dog in the center of the bench seat.
“Where are we taking him?” Kat asked, sidling onto the torn upholstery.
To Jack’s surprise, the pup gingerly lifted its head and rested it on her lap. His heart melted at the sight. “How do you know it’s a him?”
“I’m not sure how I can tell, but he’s definitely a him.”
He smiled at her strong conviction, then glanced at the sky, alarmed by how quickly the storm had progressed. “My house is closest. We won’t have time to make it all the way back into town before the roads close.”
He waited for her to argue, but she merely nodded, stroking the dog’s head. Compassion seemed to flow out of her fingertips, guiding her every movement.
And while his feelings for Kat may have been pure infatuation before, something inside of him shifted in that moment.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on it now.
Not if he wanted to get them home safely.