Merry Mended Hearts (Santa’s Radio Christmas Romance #1)

9. Grace

GRACE

I was unsettled. Boone had been the one to charm that little girl the day I’d met him with stories about the radio. Why did hearing it play bother him as much as it had? He’d spoken like the radio and its curious origin story were something to be proud of—so why remove it from the room altogether?

It was more than that. There was more at play here. This wasn’t only about the radio.

I couldn’t figure out what it was about me that he didn’t like. Every interaction the handsome cowboy and I had had thus far had only earned me glares and scowls. And I was pretty sure I hadn’t done anything to deserve a single one of them.

Shaking it off, I sat up against the mound of pillows behind my back and stared at the suggested itinerary Junie had given me. I’d never been one for doing much yoga or for spending money on spa treatments like massages and pedicures that were offered, but I fully intended to yoga and spa it up while I was here.

Relaxation and exercise were often the best instigators of my muse. I always got the top ideas and the most interesting character conversations and plot twist ideas while either showering or running.

Harper’s Inn was going to be a source of pure inspiration. I could feel it.

Just as long as these fantasies about Boone Harper would stop interfering with my creativity.

Before now, he’d been an inspiration for the love interest, but since last night, it was like all of my ideas were jammed and I thought only of him. Of the riddles in his eyes and the pained mask he’d tried hiding behind as I’d shown him that necklace.

Sighing, I pushed up from the bed and strode to the window. The sight of snow spreading on all sides was too engrossing. It was like being on a cruise completely surrounded by ocean, except this was no rocking boat, and I could leave to explore the surroundings.

And boy, did I want to go a-roving.

Part of my Christmas present from my parents had been an online shopping spree. Dad was even gracious enough not to give me a hard time for spending so much on items I’d probably never wear again.

At least not in Scottsdale.

“You’ll want something warm,” Dad had said, clicking on the puffy red coat with the fur-lined hood even though it was twice as much as the other offerings online.

“You would know,” I’d said.

And he would. To Dad, winter was a four-letter word. He viewed snow the way some people might view a medieval torture chamber.

He’d grown up in northern Canada, and the instant he was old enough to live on his own. Dad had skedaddled down to the southern U.S., to as hot a place as he could find.

His negativity toward the cold, the snow, the icy roads, and his nostril hairs freezing while he stood outside to wait for the school bus to come had only infiltrated, oh, every conversation we’d ever had about winter.

But he’d always managed to voice his dislike with a laugh and a joke. And for some reason, none of his poor opinions kept me from wanting to experience winter myself.

Returning to the bed, I marked several of the boxes on the itinerary.

“Spa day, definitely,” I said, checking the first one. “Ice skating? Not so much.”

Not without someone to hold onto should I fall. Which I was bound to do.

“Ooo, bowling?” They had a bowling alley here?

I marked that box as well, though again, bowling alone wasn’t all that appealing.

On second thought, I crossed that one out. I wasn’t here to bowl.

“I’m here to write,” I told myself.

The spa day was only to fuel my writing. I had to stay focused on that.

The last box caught my attention with more force than any of the others had done. In fact, as cheesy as it sounded, the words seemed to leap right off of the sheet.

Sleigh Rides.

Venture into West Hills’ winter wonderland with one of our competent, friendly drivers for an unparalleled view of Montana’s rugged, unblemished terrain. With the well-trained horse’s breezy bells jingling all the way, see why guests return again and again simply for one of these incomparable winter adventures!

Ride solo or with friends.

Schedule in the lobby.

A sleigh right was definitely on my to-do list, and not just because I wanted firsthand experience of what it was like to ride in a horse-drawn sleigh so I could describe the experience accurately in my book.

But I’d heard Boone was one of the sleigh drivers. The last time we’d spoken, he’d been upset with me for having found the necklace. He’d stormed off with the old radio, and I hadn’t seen it—or him—since.

Would he be the one who would take me out if I requested a sleigh ride?

Maybe I could request for him specifically. I only had a few more days left here, and it wasn’t just the storyteller in me that wanted more insight into the shaken expression he’d had at the sight of that locket.

Boone Harper was hiding something. And whatever it was, it was hard for him.

It was none of my business, I knew that. So why couldn’t I shake this desire to find out more? To help him with whatever it was?

No sense dwelling on that now. Chances were, I wouldn’t speak to him again the rest of the time I was here.

With my schedule in hand, I was ready to greet the spa and trigger my inner writing genius. I slid my feet into my slippers and made my way back to the reception desk. Unable to help myself, I shot a quick peek into the living room.

Sure enough, the table covered by the lacy cloth held only teacups, black and white photographs, and old books. It didn’t look the same without the radio there, and the sight struck me with a pang of sadness, though I wasn’t sure why.

The sound of someone mumbling directed my attention back to the reception desk.

“Where did that thing go? I could have sworn it was right here. Ugh. Where’s Sam when I need her?”

Junie’s back was arched behind the tablet serving as the register, and she shuffled through whatever was stored beneath the counter.

I wasn’t sure whether to interrupt her or wait until she sat up and realized I was here listening to her rant.

Interrupt. Definitely.

“Junie?”

Inching forward, Junie knocked her head on the underside of the desk and whipped her head up, rubbing the top of her scalp. Her blue eyes popped open in surprise.

“Grace! Hey. Sorry. I’m not usually this disorganized.”

“Are you looking for something?”

“Yeah. I can’t find my itinerary for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I had everything planned out to a T, from the last shipment the kitchens will be receiving to the product replacements for Tiffany in the spa, to the backup driver for the sleigh ride up the mountain. I’m feeling a little spastic, that’s all.”

After a quick though, she held out her hands as if to stop traffic. “But don’t worry! This will in no way reflect the quality of your stay.”

She added a little wince.

I chuckled. “I wasn’t worried in the slightest. You’ve been more than generous since I arrived. I only got here yesterday, and Harper’s Inn is already one of my favorite places.”

Relief swam across Junie’s face. “Oh, good. I’m so glad. It’s my favorite place in the whole world.”

I couldn’t help smiling around this woman. Junie was complete vitamin D. She’d risked the wrath of her cousin to help me out when I’d been stranded, and I found myself wanting to return the favor somehow.

My spa plans could wait. For a little while, at least.

“Can I help you with anything?”

Junie waved me off, making the little poms on her pink cat sweater dance. “Pfft. No, you’re a guest. Go be a guest. Do guestly things. Have you turned in your wish list for your stay here yet? There’s one in every room. See our activities, visit the spa, schedule a sleigh ride?—”

“I’m serious,” I said, ignoring the nagging thought that I didn’t have time for diversions.

I had a book to write, and only a short window in which to write it.

Still, I felt bad for Junie and couldn’t ignore this desire to help. I had five full days left here. That was plenty of time for writing.

Seeing the inner workings of an inn might also get my writing juices going the way meeting Boone had.

“I remember you said you were short-staffed,” I told her. “I was going to take a little break anyway. What can I do to help you?”

Junie’s shoulders wilted in relief. “Oh, you’re an angel. I need to get this shipment taken out to the guys in the barn. You’ll have to grab a coat—the only temperature his time of year is ten thousand degrees below frostbite.”

I laughed. “Sure, let me run up to my room and grab it. I’ll be right back down.”

“With any luck, I’ll have found my itinerary by the time you get back,” Junie said, ducking back down to search beneath the desk.

Moving swiftly, I dashed up to my room, snatched my coat, swapped out my slippers for the knee-high boots that zipped over my skinny jeans, and scurried back down. Motivation fueled me. For some reason, I felt more thrilled helping Junie than I would have had lazing out at the spa.

As relaxing as that would have been, I was glad to help the chipper receptionist.

“Got it!” Junie cried, lifting a paper into the air and waving it the instant I reappeared at the base of the stairs.

I beamed at her. “Excellent. I knew you would. You know, keeping that kind of thing on a digital planner might make things easier for you.”

Junie rolled her eyes with flare. “You’re so right, but I’m the least technological person there is. Blame it all on my back-country upbringing.”

She winked.

“It’s all good,” I said, wrapping my arms around the box on the counter. “Is this the one?”

“That’s the one. You’ll find my grumpy cousin in the barn, probably. He’s on his break right now, and he usually spends his extra time dishing hay to the horses or cleaning stalls or something boring like that. This is the last shipment we’ll get before Christmas, so he definitely needs this. Or his horses do.”

I squirmed a little inside against the excitement at having an excuse to see Boone again. I’d intended on scheduling a sleigh ride with Junie at the desk, but this was ten times better.

Junie held the door open and closed it behind me as I stepped out into the brisk winter air. Peering around the heavy box the best that I could, I made my way down the steps, praying I wouldn’t hit an unsuspecting patch of ice on the way down, and finally made it to the sidewalk.

Brr. In Scottsdale, the coldest it got was maybe 40 degrees, but this? This was bound to make an ice cube out of me if I spent much more time out in it.

Inwardly, I thanked my dad for insisting I get the more expensive coat, whose sleeves were even lined to block out some of this chill. At least I didn’t have far to go.

The elongated, red barn was situated north of the inn, past the parking lot and up the hill just a ways. A distinct path had already been beaten down in the snow to it, and I followed that path, making my way to the wooden fencing surrounding the barnyard.

A large red sign, positioned across the tall, wooden archway leading into the barnyard, said Sleigh Rides. Old-fashioned wagon wheels were propped up along the entrance’s wooden posts. Large, painted candy canes marked each post as well, and Christmas lights strung along the fence.

I made a mental note to check out the barn at night. Clearly, Harper’s Inn put on quite a show at night for its guests.

The box in my arms grew heavier with every step I took. My biceps began to jiggle.

“What is in this thing?” I grumbled aloud, losing my footing and nearly stumbling.

“Easy there,” came a gruff voice behind me. Its owner’s footsteps crunched on the packed snow.

I squealed at the unexpected sound and reared back, losing my footing. My boot slipped. I went down to the snowy ground, and the heavy box crashed right on top of me.

“Hold up.”

Boone retrieved the box quicker than if it were filled with broken glass. He offered me a hand and swept me up onto my feet with more strength than I anticipated. My backside throbbed. Though he wore gloves, the cool leather covering his hands didn’t do much to stifle the zing of electricity coursing through me from his touch.

His expression, however?

Did.

He looked murderous.

“What?” I asked. “You look like you’re mad at me for falling.”

Disappointment thundered through me like a rockslide. I’d been hoping to talk to him, to tell him I wasn’t sure where the necklace had come from, to ask him if he’d heard anything else from the radio.

He’d been brisk and cold with me after our first meeting, and again when he’d found me in his room, but this was downright rude.

“What are you doing carrying packages around? This is important.” He adjusted the box in his grasp. “You’re a guest . You have no business interfering around the inn, especially not when shipments won’t come up again until after Christmas.”

I just fell…and he was lecturing me ?

I brushed snow from my clothes, wishing I could brush away the cold wetness seeping into my backside just as easily. Or maybe stuff some snow down his shirt to cool him off.

“Junie asked me to bring this out to you. I told her I would help.”

Boone’s scowl deepened. “Well, don’t. All Junie had to do was call me in. I would have come to get it.”

“Fine. Get it yourself then.”

I was ready to storm away from the neighing horses inside of the barn and the sight of a parked sleigh, away from the handsome, infuriating man who was no book hero, thank you very much.

At this rate, I was making him the villain.

Plot lines exploded in my mind. It all came together with impeccable clarity. How could I not have seen this coming before?

No wonder I’d struggled to write him as the love interest before. He was no woman’s knight in shining armor. No elvish hero pitting his life against the enemy to rescue damsels and restore freedom to his people.

This man was all bitter and callous and sour taste. First, he snapped at me over a necklace. Now, he was angry with me for helping his cousin?

I was so writing him as the villain.

I lifted my chin, sniffed, and scowled at him. Boone’s expression softened with the briefest streak of realization as his eyes trapped mine. Even now, the sizzling, so-noticeable-you-could-stroke-it heat between us hummed.

Was I attracted to this man?

Sure. The cells in my body went wild every time he was near.

But no longer was his windswept, brooding, heartbreaker appearance going to make me swoon. No, sir.

I’d already literally fallen at the sound of his voice, and that fall hadn’t boded well. Sure, he’d helped me up, but anyone who was any shade of decent would have set the box aside and shown concern that I’d fallen. Or gratitude for my help at the very least!

I wasn’t about to wait for an apology. Clearly, he wasn’t going to give me one.

With a sniff, I whipped around and stormed back the way I’d come, beneath the wooden posts and down the snow-trodden path toward the inn.

At this rate, I no longer needed the spa for inspiration.

Junie wasn’t behind the desk once I made it back into the inn, and for that, I was grateful. I didn’t want to replay the horrible interaction with her.

Every one of my spiteful thoughts was about to get poured into my novel, into creating the most dastardly, selfish, cowardly antihero my mind could create with the fodder Boone had just handed to me.

Take that.