Dancing in Lake Mistletoe (Lake Mistletoe #4)

Chapter Seventeen

Dutch

I meet Bran, Keller, Bob, both Keller’s brothers-in-law, and Hoyt at Keller’s showroom, and the seven of us load the four pieces that make up the motor housing and the base for the town Christmas tree into our trucks and move them to the town square, where we assemble them.

The tree lighting and Christmas Market is the weekend after Thanksgiving, which is only a couple of weeks away, but the tree itself will be here in a couple of days, so we have to make sure everything is ready for its arrival.

Once all the pieces are in place, I hook the fuse box up to the square’s circuit board, and we give the base a test run. It roars to life, but the music isn’t working, so I have to climb under the platform and check some connections before we give it another go. The second time’s a charm, and we all let out a collective breath as soft music drifts out of the stage’s loudspeakers.

Keller and Bran then lock the motor housing into place, and we fasten it securely to the platform.

“There you go, Mayor. Lake Mistletoe’s own life-sized music box,” I say as I shake Hoyt’s hand.

“That’s damn impressive, boys,” he says as he grins up at the creation.

“Glad you like it,” Keller says.

“Like it? I love it. It’s a showstopper,” Hoyt says.

We pack up our tools, and Keller invites us all to the inn for lunch. We leave our trucks and walk across the street. Trixie, Alice, and Willa are expecting us and have a feast of fried chicken and fingerling potatoes ready and waiting in the atrium.

We take a seat, and Trixie comes around, pouring water and lemonade.

Bran piles his plate high and starts to dig in before looking across to me. “I heard you have a big date tonight.”

Word travels fast around here. I should have known that Sela would call Hannah the second I asked her if Josie could stay the night.

“Yeah,” I confirm.

Keller chuckles. “You should have seen Romeo this morning. He drove up in the sleigh to take her to the resort.”

Willa slaps the back of his head as she places a container of coleslaw in the middle of the table. “Don’t give him a hard time. It was romantic,” she says.

Bran’s eyes come to me. “Damn, pulling out the big guns,” he muses.

I start to defend the move, noting the two feet of snowfall overnight and the fact that the horses needed to be exercised anyway, but they know—and I know—it’s bullshit. I wanted to make her smile. Plain and simple. After our conversation, where I learned that she didn’t really have any special Christmas memories, I thought I’d create one for her. Something she’ll remember long after she’s left Lake Mistletoe. One she can tell her own kids. That one time she was taken to work in the snow by a real Christmas sleigh.

“Where are you taking her for dinner?” Keller asks.

“The Lodge.”

The Lodge is a rustic steak house just outside of town, between Lake Mistletoe and Hailey.

“That’s a good choice,” he says.

“There’s a great new dessert place called Frosted Bliss, off Highway 9. You should take her there afterward. It’s very romantic. You can have wine or coffee and dessert. Hannah loves it,” Bran suggests.

“Oh, I’ve heard about that place,” Willa says as she takes a seat beside Keller. “Hannah wants to add them to our vendor list.”

Hannah runs a party planning business, and she and Willa work together, turning the Gingerbread Inn and Lake Mistletoe into one of Idaho’s premier wedding destinations. It’s done wonders for the town, bringing more tourist dollars in the spring and summer.

“You should definitely take her there,” Bran says.

“I’ll make a reservation,” I say. “Any other suggestions?” I ask the table at large.

“Oh, you guys leave Dutch alone. I’m sure he knows how to woo a woman,” Bob says. “Now, eat your food and mind your beeswax.”

Keller and Bran laugh, and Willa gives me a wink.

Assholes. All of them.

When the day is done, I run home and shower before heading to the resort to pick her up. It was a long, hard day, but knowing that I had tonight to look forward to made it bearable.

Josie was excited about her sleepover at Cobie’s. She packed her bag with her snowman pajamas and had me tote the ice skates Santa had brought her for Christmas last year. The ice-skating rink in town opens this weekend, and she’ll talk Mom or me into taking her to the ice every other day until it closes in early spring.

She and Cobie don’t know it yet, but I was able to score opening-night tickets to The Nutcracker , thanks to my work at the theater, and Isaac and I have a special daddy-daughter date night planned for our girls next week. I can’t wait to see the look on Josie’s face. Her first time at a real ballet.

But tonight is all about the adults.

I made a reservation at Frosted Bliss. The guys might be nosy assholes who like to give me a hard time, but their intentions are good. It has been a while since I took a woman on a proper date. I’m out of practice. When you’re young and single, it’s easy. You take a girl for a pizza and end up at a bar, drinking and dancing the night away, then come back to your apartment and fall into bed. But as a man, you realize a woman deserves more effort, more respect.

I decided on dark jeans and black leather boots. Pulling on my black wool coat over my chunky blue knit sweater and grabbing my black wool hat, I head to the truck. It’s a chilly night, but the sky is clear, and a blanket of stars lights the way to Sun Valley. The resort is bursting with guests this time of year. People come from all over the country to traverse its snow-covered slopes.

Mindi is standing amid a swarm of night skiers. Next to a marquee poster of herself doing a pirouette as the Sugar Plum Fairy.

It takes her a moment to notice my arrival, which affords me the chance to take her in. She’s dressed in a mid-length burgundy cashmere sweater dress, topped by her camel-colored wool coat with brown leather accents, which match her ankle boots. Her hair hangs in loose waves.

Stunning.

When she spots my truck, a wide smile spreads across her face, and she steps from the crowd. I rush out to open the door and help her inside the warm cab.

“Hi,” she says as she takes my hand.

“Hi, yourself.”

Once she’s safely buckled in, I drive the short distance to the restaurant.