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

26. Grace

GRACE

Christmas morning was afresh with glitter and snow light. Surprisingly, I slept more soundly than I had in a long time. The bed’s comfort, the utter warmth encasing me, the pleasant shades of light beaming in from the window, and the friendly sight of my miniature Christmas tree from its place in the corner all brought a smile to my face.

The smile didn’t last long. The minute I awoke, my thoughts instantly clicked in Boone’s direction and turned solemn.

Where was he now? Back in his cottage, probably.

I pictured the lonely, handsome, confusing man waking up in his lonely little backwoods home without this feeling. Without a Christmas tree or any efforts at happiness. His only purpose was to shut out anything good that came his way.

Sadness filled me for him. He’d been mourning for so long, he didn’t know how to let that go.

He’d tried. And clearly, that effort had unraveled him.

Not to give myself too much credit, but he and I had had an undeniable connection. Boone had it all wrong. Magic had only taken us so far. If our connection—the moments we’d shared pouring our hearts out to one another, the heated kisses—weren’t enough to help him see that it was okay to let me into his life, then no amount of tinkling music or Santa-led snowstorms could.

I was so comfortable in bed, I didn’t want to move. Moving meant letting air touch my skin. It meant minutes passing, getting dressed, boarding a plane, and leaving this daydream.

Sitting up, I checked my phone. Mom texted a picture of herself holding baby molly.

Mom: Merry Christmas, Gracie Goose! Can’t wait to see you.

I chuckled, heartened by the memory of why I wanted to leave. Man, I couldn’t fault Boone for having his emotions all over the place. Mine were playing ping pong inside of me.

Me: Save some baby snuggles for me.

While I wanted to leave my clothes in the closet, to stay for as long as I could, leaving was better. I’d been entranced by the inn from the minute I’d arrived, even despite the fact that my room reservation had gotten botched. I’d loved the charm of this place.

But I needed to let that go. To let any hope of a life with Boone go.

I left the blankets’ warmth and trod to the shower. I soaked in the warm spray and then dressed in a festive red shirt—telling myself I needed to invest in more sweaters if I were ever to come back here. Christmas morning was the perfect day for a cozy sweater, and I didn’t get to wear many of those back home.

I blew my hair dry and took my time shaping my brown locks into loose curls. I powdered my face and applied mascara and lip gloss. Once I was done, I carefully gathered my belongings and returned them to my suitcase.

When I stepped from the room, the hall was bright with activity. Guests came and went, smiling as they did so. A pair of children drove a remote-controlled car down the hall, and the sound of their laughter burst with its own kind of magic.

Down the stairs—after a quick peek at the now-silent radio—I tread into the dining room. Festive music played on speakers overhead. Families gathered at tables, opening gifts, sharing hugs, laughing, and enjoying the meals.

My heart gave a twinge. I could see why Boone avoided this place during Christmas. Family happened here, loud and clear. Family and happiness and cheer.

All the things he’d lost.

If only he allowed himself to believe he hadn’t lost them forever.

Situated at a table near the door that led into what I assumed was the kitchen, Junie sat beside a man with black hair and wearing a white overcoat that had a little bit of food spilled on it.

It looked like the chef was taking a break.

Junie touched his arm. He said something to which she threw her head back and laughed, and then he stood and headed for the kitchen once more.

Lacie and Jared were nowhere in sight, but I wondered how their Christmas was going after having their circumstances change so rapidly and in such an…interesting way. Did everyone still think they were married? Or had they gotten things figured out?

After ordering a mug of cocoa and a plate of pancakes, eggs, and sausage, I took a seat near the large windows on the dining room’s righthand side and sipped. Hot chocolate surged over my tongue, plunging straight to my belly, making me feel completely satisfied if only for a moment.

I wanted to take in as much of this as I could because to every happy inhale I drew in, an opposite exhale left my body. This was my last morning here. I’d called the airline. Once the pass opened, I was leaving.

Every time a man stood from his table, every time a man entered the dining room, or left, I foolishly hoped it was Boone. Maybe he would change his mind and come charging back across the countryside on his snowmobile. Maybe he would whisk me away to his cottage for a final hour together. Maybe…

But no. He wasn’t coming. He hadn’t changed after all. He still clung to the notion that he was better off hiding his heart. That was why he refused to accept that his feelings were real.

And if I wanted to protect mine from him, I had to do the same.

Junie stood from her table and called to the room. She wore another Christmas shirt today. This one had Buddy the Elf on it, looking exuberated. Beneath his goofy excited face it said, “Smiling’s My Favorite.”

“Excuse me, everyone? Can I have your attention please?”

The chatter quieted. Children stilled, being urged back to their families’ tables. Some went willingly, while others took more coercion. Either way, Junie beamed at the room at large.

“Good morning and Merry Christmas!” she called.

A few people clapped, and many—including me—shouted, “Merry Christmas!” in return.

“After last night’s festivities, I hope you’ve all stayed nice and warm and gotten a good night’s sleep.”

Several people laughed. I wondered what I’d missed at the bonfire because this sounded like some kind of inside joke.

Junie went on, lifting her phone into the air. “I have some good news. For those wanting to venture into West Hills this morning, our sleighs and cars can now make it through. They’ve cleared the pass!”

Cheers greeted this, along with more applause. But not for me. Nope, this announcement soured the cocoa in my stomach.

I couldn’t understand why. I wanted this, didn’t I? I wanted to leave.

Junie continued her announcement, explaining how someone named Troy would be available with the sleigh after breakfast for those who wanted to venture into town on a Christmas ride. And while families celebrate and enjoyed their breakfasts together, I slipped up to my room.

Most of my things were packed. I did a final sweep in the bathroom, closet, and checked beneath the bed to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind. Soon, I had my suitcase handle in hand and my bag over my shoulder.

The doorknob was right there, waiting for me to reach. To turn it.

I couldn’t bring myself to.

“Anytime now,” I muttered, glancing around the room.

I waited, praying for the sound of mystical, festive chimes to hover in the air around me. To make necklaces appear. To bring Boone to my door.

My heartbeat rapped in time with every passing second. But there was no music.

And there was no Boone.

The will to leave dug in its heels like a stubborn mule being urged to enter an unfamiliar pasture. Something like worry filled my chest. Like if I left now, I’d always regret it.

“I’m sorry,” I told the room, “but I lied when I said I wanted to go home.”

At least I’d captured this mountainside in my story. I’d gotten a good ten thousand words written during my emotional ranting last night, and that was serious progress. Somehow, that didn’t feel like enough.

I would miss this charming, wonderful place. I’d miss Junie’s perky personality, the beautiful surroundings, and especially the cowboy.

Ever the cowboy.

A thought struck. On a whim, I pulled my bag from my shoulder and slipped the notebook free. I didn’t stop to think. Pen in hand, I wrote what was in my heart.

Boone,

I’m leaving this morning, but I want you to know, it was all real to me. Every moment, every kiss, it was all real.

I don’t know about you, but the music from that radio changed my life for the better. It led me to a man who is better than I knew he could be. A man I never thought would pay any attention to me. A man with a good heart who will be in my dreams for years to come.

I’m writing this because I want you to know why I love Christmas. I love it because it brings families together. Much as I hate to leave Harper’s Inn, I’m going home to spend the holiday with my family.

You haven’t lost every good thing in your life, Boone. You only lose good things if you push them away when they come to you. And I’m still here.

I’ll never forget you. If you feel like you could give me a chance, I would like to see you again. Merry Christmas. And I mean that.

Grace

I added my email and phone number to the bottom of the note, folded it with a prayer, and wrote his name across the front. And then, with a resolved sigh, I wheeled my suitcase into the hall. Down the stairs. I stopped at the reception desk where Junie sat with a headband that had reindeer antlers on her head.

She gave me a wide grin. “Hey, Grace. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, Junie.” I placed my room key on the counter.

Junie took it, adding it back onto the hook on the wall to her right. She swiped her tablet screen and tapped a few things before returning her glance to me.

“You’re all set,” she said. “All checked out. Glad we got you that room.”

“Me, too,” I said. “Thanks for everything. I’ll never forget this place.”

Or its attractive, closed-off sleigh driver.

I turned to leave, but a wedge in my chest kept my feet in place. The note I’d written was a brick in my pocket. It was now or never.

I faced Junie once more. “You haven’t heard anything from him?”

From the insightful twinkle and compassion in Junie’s expression, she grasped more than she let on. How much did Junie know about the old radio?

“Nothing. I’m sorry, Grace.”

I inhaled a long, deep draw of cinnamon-infused air into my lungs. I rifled in my coat pocket and retrieved the note.

“Can you at least give this to him for me?”

Junie placed her hand on the note and slid it toward herself. “Now, that I can do.”

We exchanged parting nods. And then, with my heart in my throat and a final glance at Harper’s Inn, I zipped up my coat and stepped outside as the Uber driver I’d called pulled up in a black car.

The driver stepped out to help place my suitcase in the trunk. He got my door for me, closed it once I slid in, and then he drove me down the mountain and to the airport to fly home.

I thought of Junie, hoping she was the kind of person to keep her word. Hoping she would follow through and give Boone the note—and that nothing would happen to it in the meantime.