Kitty, It's Cold Outside: A Christmas Creek Romance, #4

By Rachelle Ayala

Kitty, It's Cold Outside is a romance with a serendipitous twist at the end. I'm betting you've never read a story like this before: past, present, or future.

A lost kitten travels through time to bring deliverance to Victorian heiress Katherine Gills. She's waited through hundreds of Christmases for her lover to return. When 21st century mailman Mick Jolly delivers a mysterious package to an abandoned mill house, she believes he's the man to deliver her from her endless cycle of Christmas heartbreaks.

Together, Katherine and Mick uncover a devastating family secret. While Katherine worries about finding her lover, Mick takes her on a romantic spree of Christmas parties, lost letters, modern conveniences, and a magical flight over Humboldt Bay.

When Mick finds himself falling in love with Katherine, he's faced with a choice that will change both their futures forever.

---

Christmas Creek romances are a fun way to get into the holiday spirit. They are sassy, standalone romances centered around a town which celebrates Christmas all year round. Each story has a happy ending and can be read in any order, but of course, they are more fun if read together.

Deck the Hearts, #1 Can Holly's jolly Christmas spirit help Grinchy Gordon Gills save the town of Christmas Creek?

Her Christmas Chance, #2 A woman with cerebral palsy and her tomcat disagree about the attractive ex-con living next door. Will a dose of Christmas magic reach through his dark secrets?

A Christmas Creek Carol, #3 A reclusive writer, Ebony Cruse, is given a one-star review on her life by characters in her past, present, and future.

Kitty, It's Cold Outside, #4 When mailman Mick Jolly delivers a kitten to an abandoned millhouse, he is ensnared by a beautiful Victorian woman caught in a Christmas curse.

A Christmas Creek Caper, #5 Someone's stealing packages off the Christmas Creek porches. Sheriff Brad Wing is on the case—until he's caught with his hands up and his pants down.

Toy Soldier Christmas, #6 Breast cancer survivor, Nutmeg Brown, finds a broken toy soldier under her Christmas tree. It's love at first sight with a wooden toy or is it?

Red's Christmas Woodsman, #7 When Ruby Red Rumsey visits her grandmother's Christmas Creek cottage, she finds a hunky woodsman asleep in her grandmother's bed.

Dashing Through Christmas, #8 Misty Jolly and Dash Weston play guessing games while rushing through a Christmas project with no help from Westie, a "talking" dog.

Dottie's Christmas Wish, #9 All Merry Jolly wants is to make Dr. Colton Dale smile. All his daughter, Dottie, wants is a dog. Will Christmas wishes come true for three lonely hearts?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachelle Ayala
• Release date: Nov 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393470335

Rachelle Ayala

Rachelle Ayala is the author of dramatic romantic suspense and humor-laden, sexy contemporary romances. Her heroines are feisty, her heroes hot. Needless to say, she's very happy with her job.Rachelle is an active member of online critique group, Critique Circle, and a volunteer for the World Literary Cafe. She is a very happy woman and lives in California with her husband. She has three children and has taught violin and made mountain dulcimers.Visit her at: http://www.rachelleayala.net and download free books at http://rachelleayala.net/free-books

Book preview

Chapter 1

Mick Jolly stuck his tongue out in sheer concentration as he eased the flap open on the envelope. He rocked the popsicle stick gently, loosening the frozen glue and taking care not to tear the delicate paper.

Success. The love letter slid out of the frilly envelope. It was from an out-of-town fan of his older brother, Nick, the former high school quarterback and next in line to the Santa throne currently occupied by his father.

Mick read the oozing words greedily. This woman met his brother at one of his Christmas workshops where he traveled to big cities as a Christmas consultant. He’d obviously put the moves on her or maybe even spent the night with her, because she recalled the wonderful time they had together.

She then opined that she missed him and wondered if he’d lost her number since he hadn’t called. Following that, she buttered him up by telling him things he already knew—his athletic prowess and how generous and stout-hearted he was—that he was the man every male wanted to be and the hunk every female wanted to bed, then reminded him that he’d invited her to Christmas Creek for a holiday visit where they could sample each other’s ornamental delights and snack on mutual holiday treats.

She gushed over how much she enjoyed costume parties and bragged about her many sexy and exotic dance moves. A picture of a brunette in a Santa’s helper outfit with a low-cut neckline and high-cut miniskirt was enclosed to entice his brother to extend an invitation.

Too bad she’d never hear from Nick Jolly—Christmas Creek’s most sought-after playboy.

Mick kissed the photo and slid it back into the envelope. Since he was the mailman, he had a duty to deliver the mail even if it was left unread and unappreciated inside his brother’s many mailbags.

He counted eighteen more love notes destined for his popular eldest brother, five for his second brother, Rick, and none for himself.

Why would he get mail when he hardly ever left Christmas Creek and had zero social media following?

He was the youngest of the Jolly boys, the family who built Christmas Creek’s reputation as being the holiday destination for Christmas lovers worldwide. Nick was chief operational officer, and Rick was head of research and development. His older sisters, Holly and Ivy, did the marketing and the decorating service, and his mother was in charge of the bakery and theme restaurant.

That left him, Mick, and his younger sisters, Misty and Merry, to figure out what to do with their lives.

Mick lingered at a scented envelope addressed to Rick, wondering if his nerdy brother had a secret romance brewing. It was loosely sealed. Maybe he didn’t need to steam or freeze it to open it.

He picked at the flap and eased it halfway open when Merry, his youngest sister, called out from the counter where she sold stamps and helped customers, Hey, stop snooping. You still have packages to sort.

Mick rubbed spit on the half-opened flap and pressed it down. Now that Christmas drew near, the volume of packages coming through his small post office grew exponentially.

I wasn’t snooping. He crossed over to the loading dock where the packages were dropped off.

A pile greeted him, waiting to be placed in the delivery truck. He organized them by street. Main Street had the most, followed by Only Street, and then the outskirts, Will Road along the creek, Mill Road leading to the sawmill, Hill Road beneath the foothills, and the various other ill streets, Pill Road, Sill Road, Bill Road, and Fill Road.

He was about to drive off when Merry waved him back. There’s one more. The zip code is for us, but the address isn’t on the computer. The regional guy drove off before I could return it to sender.

Let me take a look at it. Mick was born and raised in Christmas Creek, and as a youngest boy, he’d explored up hill and down dale, from creek to cave, and every thicket and hollow in between.

Christmas Creek grew around the ghost town of Gills Gulch. It centered around the original sawmill built by the founder who capitalized on its location near a river surrounded by thousands of redwoods.

After the logging industry crashed, the sawmill was abandoned, and the town became a holiday destination for those who wanted to experience a small-town Christmas. Lately, many residents rented out their properties to tourists, and new housing developments were encroaching on the area due to its natural beauty and relatively low land values.

The address on the package was hard to make out. It looked to be One []ill Road, where the first letter of the nest of rhyming words was some sort of zigzag. It couldn’t be One Will Road, because that was his sister’s cottage, and the addressee was unknown to him. The other alternative was the old millhouse where the sawmill operator lived over a hundred years ago. No one lived there now, and the house was little more than a pile of rocks and rotten wood.

If someone wanted to stay there, he was only doing his job by making sure they got their mail.

Mick tossed the package into his mail truck and headed out just as the snow began to fall.

Mick saved the mysterious package for last. The sawmill was located up the creek from his sister Holly’s cabin. Ever since she hooked up with the wealthy Gordon Gills, she no longer lived there. She’d put it up for rent, but most of the newcomers preferred to live in the modern developments on the south side of town where Gordon put in a twenty-four-hour fitness center and entertainment complex.

Snow swirled around his mail truck as he made his way up Mill Road. The warming spell of the last decade was over, and where dense fog and freezing rain used to reign, the road was quickly filling up with snow.

He took a turn into the denser part of the forest, and eventually the asphalt gave way to gravel and frozen mud. The old millhouse sat behind the abandoned sawmill whose water wheels had long ago rotted away.

It was built of stone and reachable by an overgrown wagon trail. Mick tucked the package, about the size of a double bowling bag, under his arm and hiked the last hundred yards to the millhouse.

There were no footprints on the snow-covered porch, and the old wooden shutters covering the windows hung crookedly. The place looked abandoned.

He rechecked the address on the wrapping paper. The handwriting was square and block. K. Hawtree, One Mill Road, Christmas Creek, California, U.S.A.

Mick was the mailman, so it was his duty to deliver all mail, undaunted by rain, snow, sleet, or gloom of night.

He placed the package on the porch. Snow flurries swirled underneath the rafters, and flakes landed on the package.

It might be better to try the door and put it inside. Christmas Creek was still small town enough for neighbors to care for each other. K. Hawtree was probably arriving for Christmas, maybe in the dark, and it wouldn’t do for him to trip over his package.

Mick tried the door. It was unlatched and swung open easily. The hinges creaked, and he thought he heard the sounds of rats scrabbling across the floorboards.

He felt for the light switch, but there was none. Right. No one had lived here since the nineteenth century. He pushed the package through the doorway.

Mew, mew. A tiny voice prickled the hairs in his ears, and scratching sounds tumbled nearby.

He stayed still, wishing he could see in the dark. Was there a cat hiding in the rafters? Maybe the package contained cat food.

Meow! The sound seemed to come from the package. Could it be?

Mick shook the package against his ear.

Aaarow, meow, yow! The package complained with a scratching sound inside it, and a scent of animal reeked from the holes on the bottom.

Mick tore the tape off the box. How could someone send a live cat in the mail? Had they drugged the poor creature to keep it quiet, and it was only now waking up?

He ripped the flaps, not caring that K. Hawtree would know someone had tampered with his mail.

A fluffy gray kitten shivered inside the box, and large gray-blue eyes peered up at him.

Oh, you poor thing. Let me help you. He reached in to pick up the kitten. Ow!

Quick as a flash of smoke, the kitten jumped out of the box, leaving Mick with streaks of blood on the back of his hand.

Here, kitty, kitty. Mick crept into the millhouse, but without his flashlight, which he left in the mail truck, he couldn’t see a thing.

He had no choice but to leave the cat behind. At least it was out of the snow. Who had sent the kitten? He picked up the broken package and noticed there was no return address. There was, however, a postmark that looked different from any he’d ever seen before. It was round and didn’t have the squiggly lines to cover the stamps.

He took the box to research it further. In the morning, he’d bring cat food, but the snowfall was turning into a blizzard, and if he didn’t bring the mail truck back to town, it would get stuck.

Chapter 2

The next day was Christmas Eve. Mick woke up early to piles of snow drifting across the roads. Since he lived close to the post office and the town square, he trudged from his house on foot to the general store.

Hayley Brockman, the daughter of the storekeeper, was behind the counter. Mick had grown up with Hayley and always considered her his best friend. Unfortunately, she, too, had a crush on Nick, and Mick had been friend zoned since preschool.

Good morning, Mick, Hayley said, leaning over a glass cabinet full of Christmas knick-knacks. You going to the Gala Ball this evening?

Are you asking me? He hazarded a remark that would have gotten his eldest brother an appreciative swoon.

Just asking if you’re going to be there with your brothers. She gave away her real motivation. What are you guys going to be dressed as?

In past years, the Jolly family had dressed as characters from the Nutcracker, pioneers on a wagon trail, or frost elves on an icy lake.

I want to go as a lumberjack. It would be cool to honor our timber heritage, Mick said. But Nick thinks it’s not Christmassy enough.

I think Nick has a hot date, she said, sighing. Came by and rented a Victorian dandy’s waistcoat and top hat.

Oh, well, then, guess he’s going with the Charles Dickens theme, Mick said. I’m still going to be a lumberjack.

He was even going to bring a heavy axe because he’d been lifting weights all year. That would impress the girls, especially since most of the townswomen still thought of him as the scrawny Jolly. At least he wasn’t a nerd like Rick the Brainiac.

Good for you. Hayley glanced out the window and spotted the regional mail truck. Looks like the last mail before Christmas is on the way to the post office. Be sure to deliver my packages first. I want to make sure I get them before the porch bandit steals them.

I hope the Sheriff catches him soon, Mick said, hating that people’s things were disappearing. Worst of all were the constant questions asking if he was sure he’d delivered a particular package or not. I’m now taking pictures of the packages when I leave them on the porch and updating the tracking information right away.

You could text people, too. That might help, Hayley said.

Yeah, but I’ve got a ton of stops today, and I have to go out to the sawmill first. You got any cat food here?

Sure. Cans or kibble? She stepped out from behind the counter and wandered to the back of the store.

Kibble, most likely. Wet food spoiled faster, and he wasn’t sure if the kitten would come to him when called.

Will you need a food bowl? Hayley handed him a five-pound bag.

Yes, one of those double-sided things, he said.

How about kitty litter and a box? she asked.

He picked out a squeaky little mouse toy. Don’t think so.

Who’s getting a cat for Christmas? she asked as she rang up the sales.

I don’t know. He swiped his credit card without meeting her gaze.

Mick? she said in a teasing voice. Do you have a sweetheart you’re not telling me about?

He felt his face heating at the same time his shoulders drooped. Her easy question was a testament to how deep he was in the friend zone.

You are sweet on someone! She pointed an accusing finger at him and handed him the receipt. Will I see her at the Gala Ball?

I’m probably not going, he stammered. Hugging his purchases, he hurried out of the general store.

It wasn’t as if he had a crush on Hayley or anything. He’d long ago accepted her friendship and that of all the girls he grew up with. He was always known as the youngest Jolly boy and came out on the short end of every comparison with his older brothers. Nick was more athletic and popular while Rick was the brilliant one.

The line at the post office wound around the building several times. Was there a party he didn’t know about? Or a special on themed stamps?

He waved and greeted people as he edged his way in.

We came by to pick up our packages so the porch bandit wouldn’t get them, the fire chief’s wife, Mrs. Bell, said.

I doubt you’d get through today’s deliveries before the Gala Ball if you had to sort and drive in this snow, the mayor, Mr. Harry Tompkins, said. My wife tells me we were the first people to lose a package right off our porch.

I’m sorry about everyone who lost something, Mick said. But I’m sure the sheriff will find the perp and get them all back—hopefully.

Unless it’s a transient or someone from out of town, Dr. Kenes, the town veterinarian, said. Have you seen anyone suspicious who doesn’t belong?

Only the other drivers hired by the online stores, Mick said. The courier services, but I’m sure they have their own tracking systems.

Lately, the larger online stores hired their own drivers, because they thought the mail service at the post office was too slow.

Mick, come back here and help me, Merry shouted from the counter. Since everyone’s here to pick up their packages, I’ll need you to fetch them for me. I can’t look for packages and greet the customers at the same time.

Mick shifted back and forth, rocking on his feet. He needed to get to the sawmill to feed the kitten, but he couldn’t leave now that it was Christmas Eve and the entire town had gathered at the post office to pick up their mail.

If he helped his sister and cleared everyone out, then he would still have time to get to the sawmill before sundown.

It was late afternoon before the crowds thinned at the post office, and people went home to get ready for the Gala Ball.

Where are you going? Merry asked when Mick picked up the bag of cat food and stuffed it into the mail truck. I thought we handed out all the mail already.

I have one more delivery to make, he said, glancing at the sky where the snow had been steadily falling.

Oh, forgot to ask you, but did you deliver that package to One Mill Road yesterday? She narrowed her eyes, studying him suspiciously. I asked Dad last night, and he said no one lives up near that sawmill.

That’s why I have to go back there. Someone sent a cat in the mail.

Her mouth popped wide, and horror reflected in her eyes. Was it a dead cat? How awful.

Actually, it was a kitten. Very much alive. His gaze dropped to the welts on the back of his hand. Scratched me and got away. I feel bad leaving him there.

Oh, wow. A kitten? Let me go with you. Maybe I can catch him. She was about to get into the mail truck when a group of teenagers from the high school rushed into the post office.

We heard all the packages are here, a girl said. Can you look to see if I got one?

No one delivered the mail, another one said. I want my Christmas cash.

I’m sorry, but we hadn’t sorted the mail yet, Merry said. But I can check on the packages for you.

I should go before it gets dark, Mick said. Tell Mom I’ll be late for dinner.

His sister waved him off, saying, You better show up at the Gala Ball. No excuses. Dad rented you a top hat and waistcoat. We’re going as old-fashioned Victorians.

Mick could think of nothing worse than dressing up old-fashioned. But in the spirit of family, he’d do what they wanted since he hadn’t had time to find his lumberjack clothes and axe.

He was a Jolly, and the Jolly family turned Christmas Creek from a timber-felling ghost town into a twenty-first century holiday destination.

The mail truck’s tires spun in the snowdrift blocking the old lumber hauling road. Mick shifted the gears forward, then backward, but to no avail. The spinning tires dug deeper into the snow.

Mick picked up the bag of kibble and cat supplies and hiked the last mile to the sawmill. Its sloped roof was covered with snow, and the river beside it was frozen solid.

Winters didn’t

Reviews for Kitty, It's Cold Outside

[Leena Aluru · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

3.5? sweet story, but towards the end, it gets a little weird.

Recommended ? meh

[ChantelRhondeau · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a story that kept me thinking about it a long time after I finished reading, the characters so compelling that I couldn't quite let them go, which is unusual for me. I completely loved it! I haven't read a ton of time travel, but this one fits nicely with the rest of the magical Christmas Creek series, just going one step further. The dialogue had me laughing tons and the chemistry between Mick and Katherine was perfect. Everything flowed seamlessly between present and past, and kept me eagerly flipping my tablet's screen from start to finish. I highly recommend this book. So much fun and a great addition to the series!