Falling for Mr. Christmas

By Linda Rettstatt

Cassidy Milford is heading to a holiday reunion with high school friends when she’s caught in a blizzard. She gets off the highway, heading down a side road into Falls Village where she might find shelter for the night. But it’s Christmas Eve. She finds the houses deserted and everyone gathered at the church for services and a Christmas pageant.

Blake Hargrove steps into his father’s role as Santa Claus after his sister rushes with their father to the hospital fifteen miles away for emergency surgery. Blake stays behind to babysit his five-year-old niece, Lacey. He’s waiting for his cue in the church vestibule when a woman stumbles in, covered in snow and bedraggled, making enough noise to raise the dead.

At the social after the pageant, Blake learns Cass walked over a mile from where she had to abandon her car on Falls Road. With no room at the only local B&B, Blake offers her shelter at his sister’s house.

Cassidy has never been one to believe in fate or love at first sight. Blake closed his heart after his fiancee walked away while he was deployed in Iraq two years earlier.

Falls Village is a magical place at Christmastime, and miracles do happen, even if you’re not sure you believe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Rettstatt
• Release date: Dec 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463845189

Linda Rettstatt

Linda Rettstatt is a best-selling and award-winning author of Women’s Fiction and Mainstream Contemporary Romance. In March of 2012 her novel, LOVE, SAM, won the prestigious EPIC eBook Award for Mainstream Fiction. And in April, 2016, LADIES IN WAITING won the EPIC eBook Award for Contemporary Fiction. Rettstatt grew up in the small town of Brownsville in Southwestern Pennsylvania. After 20 years living and working in Mississippi, she has returned to the hills of PA to write and work as an editor.

Book preview

Falling for Mr. Christmas

Linda Rettstatt

Falling for Mr. Christmas

A Second Chance Holiday Romance

3rd Act Books

© 2019, Linda Rettstatt

Smashwords Edition

Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers/CBACoverDesign

Back Cover Design: Linda Rettstatt

All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work, in whole or part, by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal and forbidden.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings, and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Hey, Cass, where are you? It’s not like you to…

Those were the last words Cassidy Milford heard before her cell phone died. She groaned and dropped the phone onto the passenger’s seat. She knew exactly where her phone charger was—laying on her kitchen table in Baltimore. Clutching the steering wheel, she eased the car to a stop and stared at the whiteout ahead. It was impossible to know where the road ended and the ditch began. She saw the turn ahead just a few yards. The side road into Falls Village might be safer. She could stay there somewhere until daylight and venture out after the snowplows had cleared a path.

She turned onto the narrow road. The back end of her car slid but she eased up on the gas and regained control. The visibility wasn’t a lot better. She knew this road but in the whiteout conditions had no clue how much further until she reached the steep decline into the village.

She approached a curve and tapped the brakes. The car skidded sideways. She overcorrected. The back wheels spun. She gasped as the car headed for the ditch along the hillside. She closed her eyes. The car made a thump and came to a stop, its front end buried in a snowbank.

Cass sat for a moment, staring at the snow and assessing her predicament. She pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The tires spun until they started to smoke. The car did not move.

Crap. What next?

It was a question she should not have asked. An avalanche of snow fell from the hillside, burying the passenger’s side of her car. She shrieked, fearing it would bury her completely. The windows were covered. She pressed the button to lower her side window. A wall of snow toppled into her lap. She reached out and cleared the side mirror. Everything around her and behind her was stark white. The snow that was supposed to arrive overnight continued to fall.

She glanced at her gas gauge—less than a quarter of a tank. She turned off the engine and shivered. She knew these mountains. She also knew the county wouldn’t send out trucks and plows until the snow came to a stop. They had already issued warnings and told people to stay off the roads.

She pushed open her car door and got out, grateful for the knee-high boots she’d had the sense to put on that morning, even though the soles weren’t designed for hiking. She did a three-sixty slow turn. Everything blended together. A walk around the car from front to back confirmed her fears. The front end was buried in the ditch filled with snow. The back wheels barely touched the ground. If she was going anywhere, she needed to start walking now, while there was still a little daylight. She pushed a mound of snow from the trunk of the car and rummaged inside. She’d never used the emergency car kit her brother had given her last year. The flares would be of no use. There was no one else on the road.

The flashlight might come in handy. She freed it from the kit and slid the on button. Nothing. She knocked it against her hand and a dim beam shone. Hopefully it would last long enough to get her off this mountain and to safety. The question became did she walk down to the village, or stay with the car and hope help arrived? Would they find her frozen body in the morning after she ran out of gas? The side road disappeared into a cover of trees. As many times as she’d driven this road, the snow leveled out everything and was disorienting. There weren’t any homes along this road, but it would be protected from the stinging wind and, surely, she could find refuge in the village.

She pocketed the flashlight, then stuffed a change of underwear and a pair of flannel pajamas into the overnight bag with her toiletries. She put the strap over her head and across her body. She retrieved her purse from the car. The water bottle in the console was half empty—or half full, depending on one’s perspective. She tucked that into her other pocket, put on her knit hat and gloves, and beeped the car lock, shoving the keys into her purse. The purse was heavier than the overnight bag since it also held her small laptop. But she wasn’t going anywhere without that.

Her throat ached as she drew in a breath of cold air and exhaled in a cloud. Okay, you can do this.

~ * ~

Blake Hargrove looked at himself in the full-length mirror and laughed. The costume put at least ninety pounds on him, and the wig and mustache sufficiently aged him. The kids wouldn’t know the difference or care much. He would be Santa for a few hours and listen to their wishes. He thought of his father who usually played Santa for the Falls Village Christmas Pageant. Jacob Hargrove was a robust man who needed little padding or a wig to fit the part. Unfortunately, a ruptured appendix had him in the hospital for the holidays.

Blake looked outside and knew he wouldn’t be visiting Jacob any time soon. The winter storm arrived early, cutting off all access to the outside world. He was relieved that his sister had accompanied Jacob down the mountain in the ambulance, though she was now stuck there, too. And Blake was stuck babysitting her five-year-old daughter.

A tap sounded at the door. Uncle Blake? What are you doing?

I’m getting dressed. Give me a minute. He whipped off the hat and wig, then the red suit. It wouldn’t do for him to destroy a five-year-old’s belief in Santa. He ran his fingers through his hair and smoothed his shirt. He frowned, noticing the flecks of gray that had crept into his hair recently. His father was completely gray by the time he was fifty. Well, at least he wasn’t bald. Blake could be grateful for that much. He returned the suit to its bag and laid it on the bed.

He found Lacey on her bed snuggling with her new puppy the child had dubbed Pooh. He didn’t think it was the best name for a puppy, but she was still into Winnie the Pooh. Hey, kiddo, ready for dinner?

When’s my mommy coming back?

He sat and put an arm around her. What? You don’t like being with your uncle?

Yeah, but I miss Mommy. Her eyes began to tear up, and Blake panicked.

She’s with Grandad, helping him to get better. How about you and I have grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for dinner? Comfort food. Soup and sandwiches or omelets were about the extent of his culinary abilities.

Okay. Can I have chocolate milk?

Does your mom let you have chocolate milk with dinner?

Lacey frowned. No.

Grinning, Blake said, Then don’t tell her I let you have chocolate milk.

He got up and she followed, clutching the wriggling puppy. Pooh wants a sandwich and chocolate milk, too.

Pooh gets puppy food. And remember what I told you about chocolate not being good for dogs.

Oh, yeah.

He can have a treat while we have dessert.

He opened the front door to gaze out at the snow.

Lacey stood in front of him. Do you think they’ll still have the Christmas pageant? What if Santa can’t get here?

The pageant is still on, right after services. Everyone in town can walk to the church. And I’m very sure Santa is going to make it.

But how do you know? She gazed up at him with concern.

"I just know. I