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  A TEASPOON OF MISTLETOE

  Barbara McMahon

  www.barbaramcmahon.com

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  A Teaspoon of Mistletoe

  Copyright © 2018 Barbara McMahon

  All Rights Reserved

  Smashwords Edition

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  A Teaspoon of Mistletoe

  Annie Tolliver is happy as can be living in Lamberton, Montana. She has a successful business, life-long friends and a town that offers so much. Once she had the chance to marry and follow Jack to Chicago. Love didn’t prove strong enough. She turned him down and stayed with no regrets.

  Nick Keller’s back in the States for Christmas. His work takes him all over the world with Doctors Without Borders. When he begins to explore the small town his cousin lives in, he is charmed with the activities, the people and one very special person.

  Getting involved was not the plan for either Annie or Nick, but sometimes things happen for a reason. Can a stay-at-home woman give up everything to follow a foot-loose man to the ends of the earth?

  1Chapter One

  Annie Tolliver reached up to fasten the large wreath onto the light pole's small cross beam. Only twenty more to go and she'd have all the street lights in the park adorn with Christmas wreaths. It was bitterly cold, so as she drove her pickup truck to the next pole, she held first one hand and then the other to the vent in the truck pumping out warm air. She couldn't wear gloves; the fasteners were hard enough to connect with her bare fingers. Adding bulky gloves and she'd never finish.

  As she rounded the slight curve in the wide pathway, she noticed a man sitting on one of the benches facing the park and playground area. There wasn't another soul around. No wonder, it was barely daylight.

  Wasn't he freezing, she wondered. She was. If she didn't have to get all the wreaths up today she'd have waited until later in the morning when the temperature might rise above freezing. But she had other things to do today and so had started early.

  She pulled close to the next pole, got out, climbed into the back of her truck and picked up another wreath. She loved the smell of the evergreen, though sticky residue was its legacy. Still, she was happy to have garnered the contract from the city to decorate the parks. This was the last one.

  In January, she'd retrace her route to remove all the wreaths.

  She liked the way the wreaths added a festive seasonal touch to the walkways. Christmas was her favorite holiday. Peace and joy and good will to all seemed to permeate the entire town at this time of year.

  Two more poles and she'd reach the man sitting on the bench. He hadn't appeared to move since she first saw him. He was all right, wasn't he? She moved to the next pole. Getting the wreaths up early made sense because so many people used the walk way during the day, she wouldn't feel right with her truck on the path. But she needed its bed to reach the cross beams.

  When Annie pulled even with the bench, she gave him a worried glance.

  Was he dead?

  She didn't know anyone in their right mind who would take a nap on a park bench in below freezing weather.

  Oh no, what if he'd been here all night?

  Suddenly she knew she had to make sure he was all right. She scrambled from the truck and approached.

  “Hello?” she said.

  There was no response. His head dropped forward so she couldn't see him clearly.

  She'd had CPR training a while ago–thinking to be prepared, but right now her mind went blank. Was it thirty compressions and then a breath, or fifteen and then a breath and then more compression? And shouldn't he be lying down to get CPR?

  Gently she touched his neck. She couldn't feel a pulse. His skin was as cold as ice.

  What if he was dead? What if he wasn’t?

  She tried to unzip the jacket. She'd have to try CPR. Glancing around, she didn't see another soul in the park. Dare she pull him off the bench to get him to lie flat on the ground?

  He came awake with a start.

  “What the heck?” he said, as his hand gripped her wrist. “What do you think you're doing?” he asked, standing and towering over Annie, his hand tightening.

  “Good, you're alive,” she said in relief.

  “Of course I'm alive.”

  “Well, I wondered. I mean it's sort of cold out and I'm not sure sleeping in the park in this weather such a good idea. I thought you might be dead and I was trying to remember my CPR training.”

  He shook his head as if to clear it and then released her wrist.

  “If I were already dead, no CPR in the world would have revived me,” he said, zipping his jacket up again.

  Annie nodded. That made sense. “So I was hoping you weren't already dead,” she said, feeling flustered looking into his dark eyes. His expression reflected exasperation and she took a step back.

  “Do you always rush to rescue someone whether they need it or not?” he demanded.

  She thought about it for a minute and then shrugged.

  “I guess I've never found anyone in need of rescue before, but yes, I'd try to help.”

  “I don't need rescuing,” he said.

  “Well, excuse me for thinking you did.”

  He could have been a little grateful for her efforts.

  He stood several inches taller than her own five feet five inches. His skin was pale and he looked awfully thin. What was he doing sitting in the below freezing weather? Sleeping in it actually.

  She hadn't seen him before; she would have remembered that face. Not that she knew everyone in Lamberton, but still–this was a man she wouldn't have forgotten.

  He looked around and gazed a moment on her truck.

  “Don't let me keep you,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes: “Are you going back to sleep? Maybe you should post a sign–don't try to save me, I like sleeping in below freezing weather.”

  “What I do is no concern of yours.”

  “Well, you have that right.”

  She spun around and stomped back to her truck. She was only trying to help. What if he had been near death? She was the only one any where around who could have saved him. Then he'd be singing a different tune.

  “Thanks for stopping” he called as she reached her truck, “not everyone would. I could have ended up with frostbite,” he said as his hands covered his ears. He didn't wear gloves or a hat.

  Which seemed foolish to Annie. It was supposed to hover around freezing all week. And snow by the weekend. Sitting on a park bench in the dead of winter wasn't her idea of a good time.

  “Maybe you should head to Margie's Coffee Stand, just around that bend. She'll be opened by now. Lots of folks stop by on their way to work. Get a hot coffee or hot cocoa or something to warm up with,” Annie suggested, a bit appeased by his belated thanks.

  He nodded, looking in the direction she pointed.

  She gave a small wave and got back to her truck. She still had the rest of those wreaths to put up.

  Annie watched as he walked away. Maybe she should have invited him into the warm cab, but she didn't know him and wasn't that foolish.
/>   Moving on to the next pole she wondered what he was doing sitting out so early in such cold weather. Was he new in town or just visiting someone for the holidays?

  The jacket he wore looked warm enough, but who walked around Montana in the dead of winter with no hat and gloves?

  Her curiosity peaked. Who was he? And why was he sleeping on a park bench? He didn’t look homeless. His clothes were clean and fairly new.

  He was apparently in no hurry to get to a job. It was now after eight, most people were heading to or already at work. So maybe he was a visitor.

  By the time Annie arrived at Margie's for her own warm up, her mysterious acquaintance stood at the kiosk chatting with the owner. Margie ran the small beverage kiosk summer and winter, varying the offerings depending upon the weather. Hot chocolate and hot coffee were her winter specialties. She offered to top off any drink with either whipped cream or marshmallows.

  Annie always chose the marshmallows.

  “Hi, Margie,” she said after she parked the truck and approached the open serving window.

  “Hi, Annie. The park looks really good. I wandered through yesterday afternoon.”

  “Thanks, I put the last of the wreaths up this morning. Next up is the Santa's Workshop.”

  “So, what can I get you?”

  “I'll have the hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

  Annie glanced at the man standing beside her. “I see you found it.”

  He nodded, taking a sip of a hot beverage he held in his hand.

  “We never did introduce ourselves; I'm Annie Tolliver, landscaper and Christmas decorator.”

  “Nick Keller, visitor for a few weeks.” He offered his hand.

  It was like ice.

  Annie had a sudden urge to wrap both her hands around his to warm it up.

  There were benches along the walk way, but as cold as it was she didn't want to sit outside once she had her hot chocolate. But it felt rude to walk away.

  With Margie only a few feet away, she felt safe enough to invite him into the truck cab where they'd be warm.

  “Do you want to sit in my truck while we drink?” she asked.

  Nick hesitated a moment as if weighing a mighty decision, then nodded.

  Once inside, she started the engine again to get the heater working.

  “Did you decorate the entire park?” Nick asked when they were seated.

  “Yes. Well, my team and I did. We put up the Christmas lights last week. The tree near the bandstand was decorated on Thanksgiving so the town could kick off the annual lighting of the tree and Main Street Festival the Friday after Thanksgiving. Were you here then?”

  “No, I arrived a few days ago.”

  Annie was dying to find out more, but didn't want to appear too nosy. Could a few questions be considered interested instead of nosy?

  “So you're not from here. Where are you from?” she asked.

  “Originally, Oregon. Most recently sub Sahara Africa.”

  “Africa, wow. What did you do there?” She'd never met anyone who had been to Africa.

  “I'm with Doctors Without Borders. Most recently we went in to help with an epidemic.”

  She'd heard of Doctors Without Borders–they were responders to crises, whether an epidemic or natural disaster, and were totally neutral, so were able to go about everywhere to offer assistance.

  “Yet Montana is a far piece from Africa,” she murmured.

  “I have a cousin who lives here–Roger Keller. He's at a conference in Chicago right now. Then he's taking off for the Bahamas for Christmas. He offered me his place for as long as I want. Do you know him?”

  “I know of him--he's one of the town's leading young lawyers. If you have a perfectly comfortable place to stay, can I ask why you were sitting out in the freezing cold?” she asked, still intrigued.

  He smiled.

  Oh oh, that smile flustered her more than anything. His entire face seemed to soften a bit. Still strong and masculine, but with almost a hint of a mischievous boy.

  “It might sound dumb, but after the heat and humidity of Africa, I can't get enough of the cold crisp air here. I'm walking as much as I can each day to enjoy the weather. I was out before dawn and sat for a moment to watch the sunrise. Guess I was more tired than I thought. Time change and all.”

  Annie nodded, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “So you're a doctor?”

  He nodded, his hands wrapped around the hot beverage.

  “Tell me about decorating the park,” he said. “Do you do it every Christmas?

  Annie explained how she bid for the job each year and so far in the five years she'd had her landscape business, she'd won the contract each year. She and her employees strung lights and placed large ornaments on the town's Christmas tree. Then she'd threaded tiny white lights through the trees and shrubbery around the walkways in the park. They'd build the Santa's Workshop near the gazebo by the Christmas tree and today she was putting up the wreaths.

  “So you're finished, now,” he said.

  “Almost–we still need to decorate Santa's Workshop so we can open up on Saturday. It's open each weekend until Christmas. Then in January, we take everything down and pack away for next year. The wreaths of course go to recycle. I make them without wires so they can be disposed of easily.”

  “It sounds like a lot of work.”

  “It is, but there's not a lot of landscape work needed this time of year. So I bid for this job to keep income coming in. At my nursery I have poinsettias for sale, and some smaller wreaths and of course Christmas trees and ornaments for sale. Do you need a tree?”

  He shook his head. “I'm not much for decorating.”

  “Everyone should decorate their home for Christmas,” she said.

  “Ah, but this isn't my home. I'm just visiting.”

  “Let me guess, your cousin left before he decorated.”

  Nick nodded.

  “But wouldn't you like to have a small tree? Something to celebrate the season?”

  “I suppose you have just the tree for me,” he said, looking directly at her.

  “Well, I do, but you don't have to buy one from me. There're other tree lots in town.”

  “Tell me about the town. This is only the second time I've been here. I visited Roger a few years back, during one week in the summer and we spent most of the time hiking the mountains.”

  “Lamberton was once a gold mining town, as your cousin might have mentioned. There're still some mines around that give tours in the summer. Now, it's just a small mountain town that has no major industry except ranching, no major chain stores who think we're too small, and no claim to fame. But I've lived here my entire life and love it. It's an active community with things going on all the time. If you lived in a small town in Oregon growing up, you probably had the same kind of things going on.”

  “Portland isn't such a small town. What small town things is Lamberton doing for Christmas?” he asked.

  “We had the Main Street Festival the Friday after Thanksgiving. It's where all the shops are open late and serve Christmas cookies and hot cider to all who enter. That followed the tree lighting ceremony in the park. Then we have Santa's Workshop.”

  He nodded. “I've seen it when cutting through the park.”

  “Then we have a gift drop-off at the community center where people can donate gifts for kids who might not have a special Christmas otherwise. Volunteers wrap and deliver the gifts. I volunteer for that. I can deliver a lot using my truck.”

  Annie glanced at Nick who was gazing at her steadily as she spoke. She swallowed. Her truck suited her all the time, except this morning it seemed smaller somehow.

  Or maybe Nick just took up more space.

  “There's the Christmas play next weekend–with folks of all ages participating. It's funny and fun. You should go,” she said.

  He nodded, but made no response. His hands were wrapped around the cup, obviously seeking the warmth.

  The heater continued to pump
hot air into the cab of the truck. With the hot chocolate, heater and Nick's proximity, Annie was starting to get warm.

  “On Christmas Eve, there's a huge potluck at the community center with midnight services at several churches afterward. It seems the whole town gets together at one of the other events.”

  “Sounds idealistic. Not many places still do so much,” he said.

  “Maybe it's because we're a rather small community. We know each other and keep it local. Though we do get visitors who come each year because of the activities. I think it's fun for them to pretend to live in a town with traditions we have,” Annie said. “That's part of the holiday magic, don't you think–following family traditions.”

  Nick took a long drink of his beverage, finishing it. “Maybe if you have a family. But some of us don't.”

  He opened the door and began to get out of the warm truck.

  “Do you need a lift home?” she asked, suddenly reluctant to have him leave.

  “No need. Good bye.”

  He closed the door a walked away after tossing his empty cup in the trash next to Margie's kiosk.

  “I hope I see you again,” Annie said slowly as she watched him in the rearview mirror head back the way he'd come.

  Nick felt exhausted by the time he reached the condo. He removed his jacket and tossed it on the back of the sofa on his way to the recliner. Sinking back, he closed his eyes. He was such a mess. He'd been up for four hours, already had a short nap in the park and now wanted nothing more than to sleep a week.

  He knew he'd waken long before he was rested, but giving into temptation, he closed eyes.

  But instead of dropping off to sleep immediately, he thought about Annie Tolliver. She reminded him of the classic girl next door. She had brown hair that peeped out from beneath her knitted stocking cap and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were a warm and friendly brown. He wished he could have talked to her for longer. But his energy level wasn't even close to being back to normal and even the hot chocolate couldn't give him enough energy.