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

23. Grace

GRACE

I grew frantic.

I’d scoured every inch I could think of at the inn, but my notebook was nowhere in sight. Where could it have gone?

The only hope I could see was to check with Boone, but I wasn’t sure if he would even be coming back for the sleigh ride tonight. Regardless, I watched the clock, which somehow only made time move that much more slowly.

What was I going to do if he didn’t return? I’d have to let the notebook—and all the incredible scenes I’d drafted while I’d been here—go.

Which would make this trip completely wasted.

This had happened before. Many of my author friends had had computers crash or flash drives burn out. They’d lost entire manuscripts. At least I didn’t lose my entire book. I could recapture all the thoughts I’d written if I had to.

I’d rather not have to.

After a delicious meal of roasted steak garnished with garlic butter, potatoes, and the most succulent green beans I’d ever had, I bundled up in my snow gear and joined the bustle downstairs.

Guests gathered in the main area below, peering out the windows. There was a different energy in the air, one of excitement and anticipation that I couldn’t help mirroring. Every person here was dressed like I was—bundled up in preparation for the ride up the mountain to wherever this bonfire was slated to be held.

The prospect of a mountaintop bonfire in the blazing cold wasn’t all that appealing. But the chance to see Boone again was.

Considering how the cold had overtaken me the last time I’d been out in it for an extended period of time, I decided to take a few more precautions and layer up. And considering how overheated I felt in my puffy coat zipped and my beanie on my brown hair, I’d succeeded.

I was starting to cook in all these extra layers I’d put on.

The faint tinkle of bells jingled outside, and the crowd began to stir. Not far from where I stood, Lacie and Jared nestled close to one another, caught up in their own conversation.

I wondered if they’d gotten anything sorted out yet.

“Here they come!” a woman called to the rest of us, moving from her position at the window.

Other guests cheered in response, and my heart skipped a beat. Sure enough, two large sleighs pulled forward on the snow outside, each pulled by a pair of horses, waiting for the guests to pile out.

I hurried the rest of the way down the stairs, eager, hoping for a sight of Boone in his thick coat with the wool lining, his tufted fur hat and thick gloves. I passed Lacie and Jared, who were now arguing about something near the Christmas tree, and pushed my way out into the night.

The cold was overwhelmingly stark against the heat that had gathered beneath my coat. I sucked in a breath through my teeth and stared at the stars filling the clear sky overhead.

“Wow,” I muttered.

There was something to be said about the winter sky and the sheer number of stars spoking through its blue canvas. I shivered and moved aside for a couple who had followed me out only to stop short.

Two men held the reins for the sleighs.

Neither of them was Boone.

“That’s our call!” Junie announced. “Those who are coming for the bonfire, the time to leave is now. I repeat, the sleighs are leaving now!”

People shouted, one woman squealed in excitement, and I even noticed the woman who’d been holding the dog the first day I’d arrived now walking hand-in-hand with her daughter toward the sleigh in the front.

I hurried to catch Junie’s arm.

“Junie,” I said, adding, “Sorry,” at the look of surprise on Junie’s face.

She wore a bright pink hat with yarn that seemed to have exploded on her head. It stuck out at all angles but was so endearing on her freckled face that I suspected the hat had been designed that way on purpose. It totally fit Junie’s spunky, laid-back style.

“Grace!” Junie’s smile widened. “Do you need something? You’re joining us, right?”

She peered behind me, distracted by something. I glanced back as well, catching sight of the radio through the window. Is that what Junie was looking at?

Boone had stormed off with it; how had the radio gotten back where it was? Considering the perplexed expression on Junie’s face, she wondered the same thing.

I decided not to ask.

“Have you seen Boone?” I asked instead.

Junie’s face fell into an apologetic grimace. A good-looking man with dark brows and an eager expression standing beside the sleigh waved to her, and Junie gave him an impatient wave back as if telling him to wait.

“Sorry, no, and you probably won’t either. Not until after Christmas.”

I attempted to hide my disappointment. “Oh?”

Junie slipped her hands into a pair of thick, knitted gloves with white reindeer on the backs. They were the kind of gloves that folded open to allow her fingertips to poke out.

“Yeah, he sort of goes into hiding.”

Another grimace.

I glanced at the crowd. The only reason I’d been ready to brave another night of cold was the possibility of being with Boone again. No amount of submersion into a winter night would be worth the torturous cold in my bones that would follow. I might not have my notebook, but I could still type on my laptop.

If Boone wasn’t among the crowd, I’d be better off staying at the inn.

According to the rumors I’d heard, the pass down to the town below was being cleared. The road would be accessible enough for me to summon an Uber driver and make my way to the small airport in West Hills.

Tomorrow was Christmas, and I was leaving. But I didn’t want to go without seeing him one more time.

“Does he have a cell phone or some way I can call him? I really need to talk to him.”

The man by the sleigh waved Junie forward a little more exuberantly this time. I thought I recognized him as the inn’s chef, but I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t exactly gotten a good look at him. Just his amazing food.

Junie called for him to hang on. “I’ll be right there,” she said before hopping down from the sleigh.

She was a few inches shorter than I was, and tinges of pink touched her cheeks and nose.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but our policy is not to give out personal contact information to guests—and believe me, a lot of women ask for his.”

I squirmed a little at that. I could well imagine women drooling over him.

Boone had told me I was the first woman he’d allowed himself to touch since he lost his wife. The thought made Junie’s remark even more striking.

Whatever expression was on my face drew out a sympathetic pout from Junie. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m really sorry,” the receptionist said. “I wish I could make an exception, but I can’t do that without getting his permission first.”

“I understand,” I said.

And I really did. I’d want the same discretion from one of the managers at work if a random person came in asking for my personal contact information.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” the chef called.

Others among the guests cheered and shouted their agreement, waving to Junie.

“Come on, Junie. Let’s go!” someone cried.

“I’m coming!” she replied, smiling while air puffed visibility from her mouth.

Excitement beamed in her eyes, rivaling the moonlight spearing down at us. To her credit, Junie didn’t abandon me immediately. She gripped me by the elbows.

“Are you sure you won’t come? It’s going to be amazing. Cold, but the fire combats that. We serve cocoa up there and everything.”

I backed away with a sniff—from the frosty air, not my emotions. At least, that was what I told myself.

“I’m okay. I think I’ll check out the hot tub.”

And get some more words in.

Boone had told me goodbye, and he’d meant it. I had to accept it. I’d never see him again.

A distinctive rumbling sound scraped the edge of the sky. My brow furrowed, and I glanced around, searching for its source as so many others did. The sound was coming from my right, but the inn’s porch stretched, blocking my view.

Junie groaned and tossed her hands into the air. “Are you kidding me?”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

In a huff, she ignored me and stomped to the corner of the porch, peering around as the sound grew louder.

“Perfect. Just perfect,” Junie muttered.

“What is it?” I asked.

The rumble sounded like some kind of vehicle. A dirt bike, maybe?

In the snow?

Junie stormed back to me, fuming. Her nostrils flared. “What does he think he’s doing?” she asked as though I had any clue. “Why did he ride that thing up here? He knows the tracks will leave marks on the snow and ruin the setting!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Boone,” she said with irritation, and the sound of his name lit a spark inside of me.

“Junie, come on,” someone behind us barked.

Boone was here? He’d come back?

Junie stormed back to the sleighs, grumbling the whole time. I scurried in her wake, unable to keep still. The rumbling sounds of an engine grew louder still.

“I’m going to kill him,” Junie said to the driver, accepting his hand and climbing onto the empty space beside him. Then she turned to me. “Tell him that, will you? Tell him I’ll kill him for ruining the landscape.”

I couldn’t help the smile spearing over my cheeks. The two drivers signaled their horses and jiggled the reins. Both teams responded, and jingling bells signaled their movement on the snow. They traveled along the road past the barn, curving up toward the moon and out of sight.

Meanwhile, my heart was rolling like thunder in my chest. I watched the trees in anticipation.

A faint light came into view, and the distinctive brrraap brrraap noise increased. A snowmobile cleared between two trees, and immediately, I understood why Junie was so upset. The snowmobile’s tracks rumpled the snow, leaving jagged, linear trails behind. Like a scribble across a beautiful painting, they marred the cozy, secluded, back-in-time feel of the inn.

Boone slowed the lime green snowmobile, pulling up feet from me. A distinguishably overwhelming smell of exhaust spewed from the vehicle, taking over the air around me. I waved it away, coughing a few times.

To my relief, he shut off the ignition. The resulting quiet was such a contrast to the snowmobile’s loud rumble from moments before.

He lifted one leg and dismounted, and I watched every move he made, taken by the sure way he carried himself to how he lifted his arms to remove his helmet and tuck it beneath one arm.

Be still my beating heart. His hair was rebelliously rumpled, swooshing over his forehead, and his handsome face stole the spotlight from the stars. I was pretty sure a few of them had shorted out.

“Grace,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, glancing at his machine once more. “And why…on a snowmobile?”

I couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t busted this thing out during the storm. Where did he keep it? Then again, I remembered seeing something underneath a dark tarp. I hadn’t paid that much attention to it at the time and had completely forgotten about it since.

He must have heard my unspoken questions.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I couldn’t have used this the other night to take you back. It wouldn’t have been safe to take out in that blizzard, now with how low visibility was. Some models come equipped with GPS, but even then, in a storm, you still chance hitting a tree or falling into a crevice because you can’t see.”

“Right,” I said.

And I was grateful that was the case. I wouldn’t have traded my snowed-in night with Boone for anything.

A smirk found its way to my face. I stepped forward, feeling the cold begin to seep through the toes of my thin boots, and rested a hand on the snowmobile’s handle.

“You know, Junie said she’s going to kill you for this.”

He dipped his head to hide his smile. “I know. She and her mother have given very specific instructions about my snowmobile. They know it's an emergency-machine-only.”

My heart cranked out an extra beat. “And this was an emergency?”

His gaze turned solemn and serious. He tucked his lips into his teeth. “I had to see you before you left.”

I grasped for words, waiting for something brilliant to land on my tongue, to give voice to the flutter in my chest, but nothing of any definition in any kind of verbal language made itself known.

So I said his name. Only his name.

“Boone.”

Gravity was in his gaze. That look was a force all its own, one that connected with the part of my soul that was destined to be with his. I was aware of everything in that moment:

The erratic rhythm of my heartbeat.

The sweat collecting in my palms.

The moonlight shining down on the frosty snow.

And the pull emanating from Boone to be as close to him as possible.

Boone cleared his throat, breaking the connection in our gazes long enough for me to scratch out a breath.

“To give you this, I mean,” he corrected.

Removing his gloves, he turned his back to me and retrieved something from his saddlebag. There had to be a different name besides ‘saddlebag’ for the leather pouch situated beneath his snowmobile seat, since he wasn’t riding on a saddle, but I wasn’t exactly up to speed on snowmobile terminology.

In any case, he closed its flap, securing the snaps, and faced me once more with a familiar notebook in his hands and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh, my gosh,” I said, placing my hands on my chest. My breath left in small puffs of air. “You did have it!”

“It was sitting on my dining table,” he said. “I know how important it is to you. You probably wouldn’t want to leave without it.”

“So you…” I looked at the tracks all over the snow. “…braved Junie’s wrath to bring it to me?”

He could have waited. He could have had Junie mail it to me once Christmas was over or something. Don’t get me wrong, I was glad he hadn’t. But he could have.

“Should I not have?” He strode around the machine’s nose, coming closer to me.

“Junie was pretty bugged. It sounded like you broke a sacred, cardinal rule around here with this thing.” I stroked the snowmobile’s handle.

“You’re worth the risk,” he said simply.

My mind went blank. The cold no longer existed as I waited for the swirl to come and blur this moment, for morning to dawn and wake me back up, for the screen to go dark as this scene shifted.

But no changes came. The stars still twinkled over our heads. The snowmobile, the trees, the abandoned snowman, the inn behind me—and Boone. Standing there, meaning what he just said.

“Thank you,” I said, hugging the notebook to my chest.

“You’re welcome.”

My elation faded, replaced my confusion. How had the notebook made its way to his table when I’d put it in my bag? I didn’t want to think it.

He hadn’t rummaged through my bag, had he? Why would he? The thought was too ludicrous to voice it.

There was another thought, however; one that I had to know the answer to.

“Did you read it?”

He contemplated his answer for several seconds. His gaze roamed over me. “You look cold,” he said in that way he had of not answering my questions.

“I am. But you aren’t going to distract me from this question. Did you read my notebook?”

“Let’s go inside.”

He wasn’t getting out of this. I’d written some extremely personal and super mortifying things about him in there. Had he seen any of it?

“Boone.”

He placed the helmet on the snowmobile’s dark seat and stepped closer, resting his hand on my arm. “I will tell you the answer to that because I think we should talk. But I don’t think we should do it out here. Okay?”

Sure enough, my jaw was starting to judder again. Man, I was glad I hadn’t gone on the sleigh ride to the bonfire. Snow was pretty to look at, but extended time in its company was asking too much of me.

Then again, getting frostbite could incite another snuggle session…

With equal parts reservation and anticipation, I nodded. “Okay.”

Boone walked me up the porch steps. He smelled like snowmobile exhaust and exhilaration. Reaching the inn’s entrance first, he held the door for me so I could step through.

The heat was a welcome friend. It seeped into my skin, relaxing my muscles and making me want to nestle in near the fire and stay a good long while. A woman I didn’t recognize manned the reception desk. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she had thick eyeliner. She smiled and Boone greeted her.

“Hey, Angelica,” he said.

She lifted a hand in greeting and then turned back to her phone.

To our left, the room’s only glow came from the fire beneath the mantle and the pinches of light glittering on the Christmas tree, but it was more than enough. I meandered closer to the fire, hands at the ready for warmth.

Boone removed his coat and placed it on one of the coat rack’s vacant arms before following me in. He didn’t once glance at the Christmas tree, but kept his attention on me.

I slipped out of my coat as well, draping it over my arm, and I stayed close to the hearth. The fire’s warmth thawed me a little at a time until eventually, I sat on the squashy armchair beside the fireplace.

Boone paced back and forth, wearing down the carpet in front of the radio.

“This is dangerous territory,” I said, quirking a brow at the radio and at his previous reactions to it. “Are you sure you want to be in here?”

What if it plays again?

“Is there somewhere else you’d rather go?” he asked.

My room was an option, but I wasn’t sure that was the best idea. Once he was there, I wasn’t sure I’d let him leave again.

I thought it over. “You said you grew up here. In that room I slept in my first night?”

He stared at me for so long, I wasn’t sure if he was going to speak. Was there a reason he didn’t want me in there?

After winning whatever mental battle was taking place, he grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”