Mistletoe Madness: Christmas Mountain RomComs

By Abby Everheart

Humor with heart. Get ready to laugh, cry, and have a happily ever after.

A high school sweetheart, an eccentric aunt, and a hobby farm full of quirky animals. What could possibly go right this Christmas?


High heels and farm animals don't exactly mesh.
Valerie has had a rough six months, so when her aunt invites her to come to her hobby farm in a small Alaskan town for Christmas, Valerie doesn't have much choice but to admit defeat and accept. As if six feet of snow and smelly animals with all sorts of attitude weren't enough, the love of her high school life shows up.

Damon has loved and lost and now he wants nothing but good friends and to continue to work the buffalo ranch that his father passed to him. Then his neighbor calls him over to help her, and he runs smack dab into the first woman who broke his heart. Old embers start to burn, but he's committed to his family ranch. She would never accept that life...would she?

Can Valerie overcome her past to accept the love and life in front of her? And can Damon find the courage to try again?



Mistletoe Madness is a complete Christmas romantic comedy standalone in the Christmas Mountain RomCom series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abby Everheart
• Release date: Oct 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201644598

Abby Everheart

Abby Everheart is the nom de plum for a woman who believes everyone should be able to go on adventures and experience sweet romance from their favorite reading chair. Her favorite part of the day is at night after work when she can sit down and put pen to paper crafting characters and stories she hopes you will love.   You can find her at abbyeverheart.com or follow her on Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/authorabby or Bookbub @abbyeverheartauthor.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Valerie stared at the smoldering embers of the small apartment building as if the last of her will had gone up in smoke, along with her earthly possessions.

What once had been part of a wreath floated down to the ground in front of her, charred and smoking.

Just like her life.

Firefighters had been working for hours to stamp out every last bit of fire. Here in this dry Colorado winter, they couldn’t afford to let a single spark fly away and land in a field full of brittle, dry grass.

This has not been my year. She tilted her head back and gazed at the sky as if it could rain answers to her mounting problems. She had thought it couldn’t get worse when, early this month, her boyfriend had broken up with her because she was, Way too intense, man, the wannabe rocker had said, and now a fire had taken everything else. Had she accidentally wandered over a Ouija board and had brought a demon to life to haunt her?

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the clothes she had on—a pair of Gucci heels, slim business pants, and a white T-shirt—weren’t enough to stave off the chill of the evening, and she hugged herself, walking toward her car.

Her phone rang. The only thing she’d made it out of the apartment complex with when the fire alarms had started blaring, the smell of smoke already thick in the air.

Yes.

Hello and good morning to you too. You sound mighty chipper.

Valerie frowned, her tired mind trying to place the amused and warm voice on the other end of the line. Oh! Hi, Martha. What’s up?

Valerie hadn’t spoken with her aunt in several weeks, and that was when Valerie had been guilted into going to an extended family reunion. Martha was the only one she could stand on that side of the family, given that she’d grown up around her. They’d promised to keep in touch, and Valerie bit her lip, remembering that…and the subsequent dearth of phone calls.

I have an idea… Martha started.

Valerie tensed, blowing out a slow breath that fogged the cold air. She remembered Martha presenting her ideas to Valerie’s family and they’d never seemed too keen on them. Like when she’d said they should travel the Yukon by boat, or when she wanted to start a hobby farm. Still, that had been nearly thirty years ago and, as far as Valerie knew, the farm was doing well. The Yukon trip had resulted in a very expensive rescue mission.

Martha continued, I saw your post on social media the other day, that things were rough, and was thinking that you might enjoy some time away from everything. How about you come here and spend Christmas with me?

Valerie closed her eyes and a soft breath escaped. Things had been rough lately and now she had no place to live on top of no job after being fired at the beginning of the month, thanks to her big mouth and an argument with her boss. Maybe the sky had rained down a solution. At the very least, things couldn’t get any worse. Still, the thought of going back to her hometown made her want to tear her hair out; it felt like taking so many steps backward. At eighteen, as soon as she could, she had left. As the plane took off, taking her thousands of miles away to college, and she stared out over the vast, cold, and generally uninhabited landscape, she had sworn that she would never go back.

Valerie, are you still there?

Sorry, yes, I was just thinking…anyway, it doesn’t matter. That would be wonderful. Is it okay if I come as soon as possible? Her mind went to her small sum of emergency cash and how much a hotel for the next couple of weeks would cost if Martha said no. She hoped the answer was yes.

I was hoping you would say something like that. The animals will be as excited as I am. Just text me the day and time you’ll land, and I’ll be there to pick you up.

Valerie didn’t have the energy to do more than arch her eyebrows, briefly wondering if she’d just signed up for the kookiest Christmas ever.

Okay.

They hung up and Valerie finished her trip to her car, relief flooding through her at the thought that she had a place to go until she could determine another plan of action. She’d liked her job in fashion and had worked hard to get where she was. Now that was stripped away and she felt as lost as she did when she’d first stepped foot on a college campus with over twice as many students as the total population in her hometown.

Inside the car was cold, but at least it was out of the wind. She reached for the start button and froze.

Ugh! she groaned. The keys were probably little melted piles by now. Resting her head back, she glared at nothing in particular ahead of her. Yeah, she’d definitely somehow summoned a demon to haunt her.

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The last bison was ushered through the chute, and the gate slammed shut with a final clang. Damon’s hands were raw and aching and, even in the twenty-degree weather, he was sweating under his thick Carhartt coat. He braced his hands against the gate and looked over at his friend, the veterinarian who’d helped him check and vaccinate over two hundred head of bison today. Jason stood, hands in pockets, with a tired smirk on his face as he looked over the tall fence at the animals.

What do you say, friend? Damon asked. Care to come in for a drink and some dinner? Patti is making a feast for us all.

Jason raised his brows with a tired smile. You have to ask?

Damon laughed, pushing himself away from the gate and clapping Jason on the shoulder. Nah. Man, you’re sure fit for how much you love food.

It was true. Jason was six feet, four inches of muscle and animal sweet-talk.

The man laughed and they walked over to Damon’s work truck.

Guys, when you finish here, come on up to the house for a meal, Damon yelled out, waving a hand toward his ranch workers, who were finishing up and cleaning the area.

Yes, sir!

The house was a couple of miles away, and Damon drove along a well-worn path around pastures and pens.

Hey.

Damon looked over and Jason jutted his chin toward one of the pens with a couple of cow bison that had given birth much later than normal. He’d separated them to make sure the females got the nutrition they needed through this cold winter and to keep an eye on the calves.

Inside the pen, a small dog darted around haphazardly, trying to stay a step ahead of the sharp hooves and horns of an angry bison.

Get outta there! Damon yelled out his window. He drove the truck up to the gate and jumped out, then ran around to the front to open the thick metal gate just wide enough for the stray dog to zip through before firmly closing and locking it again. A cow bison stopped just short of ramming the gate, two streams of steam coming from her nostrils every time she exhaled, making her look like a demonic monster of myth. She shook her shaggy head and grunted before turning away and trotting back toward the herd, still snorting agitatedly.

With the threat of one of his one-thousand-pounds-plus animals charging at the gate gone, Damon was able to turn his attention to the stray dog. Skinny and shivering, it peered at him from behind a tire. As much as it irked him that the animal had slipped into one of his pens and gotten his bison riled up, Damon felt sorry for the dog. Getting down on a knee, he held out a relaxed hand. Hey buddy, who do you belong to? The dog backed away from him and under the truck. As the dog moved back, Damon noticed an odd white strip of hair that wound around a back leg. Didn’t his neighbor, Martha, have a dog get stolen from her property that had such a unique marking?

Damon attempted to soften his voice as he spoke. Gus?

The dog’s nose and suspicious eyes came out from behind the tire.

Trying to be stealthy, and failing miserably thanks to his big frame, Jason eased far too loudly out of the other side of the truck, causing the dog to hide behind the tire again.

Now that your Goliath frame shook the entire truck and scared the dog, can you make sure he doesn’t run out that side? Damon asked, easing down onto his knees to get a better view under the truck.

He met Jason’s gaze. Your truck has crusted brown stuff all over the bottom.

Damon glared. It’s a ranch truck.

"Yeah, but the commercials never show them this dirty."

Just make sure the dog doesn’t get away.

I’m not sure I can move my mammoth frame fast enough to snatch him should he try to run out this way.

Damon wiped a hand over his face to hide the smile. He eased closer to the dog, holding out a fist a few feet away to allow the dog to come and sniff him. Hey Gus, come here, Gus. Gus.

The dog had perked his ears, but it was clear that he was skeptical and terrified. Damon couldn’t believe he didn’t look frostbitten.

If you’re planning on grabbing him, I suggest gloves, Jason warned. He’d been bitten enough in his tenure as a vet to be cautious.

Damon had left his thick work gloves in the truck and he worried that moving away now would cause the dog to run.

You’re an idiot, Jason muttered, apparently reading whatever thoughts were on Damon’s face.

It was quick. The dog shrieked like he was being murdered, but Damon had him by the scruff and was able to drag him out from under the vehicle and wrap him in his arms without getting bitten.

It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. Let’s get you warm and some food.

The little mutt went limp against his chest and he scooted back into the truck, blasting the heat so Gus’s shivering would calm.

As soon as Jason’s door slammed shut, Damon put the truck back in gear and they started down the path again before he glanced over at Jason with a grin. Like how good a listener I am, huh?

I can see why you got so many spankings as a kid, Jason grumbled.

Damon laughed.

That dog sure looks like the one who disappeared from Martha’s place about three weeks back, Jason commented.

That’s what I was wondering. Do you mind if we take a detour and run this little runt over to Martha’s before heading to the house?

Sure. Jason smirked.

Damon narrowed his eyes at him briefly before focusing back on the road. You look suspicious. Any reason?

Nope, just talked to Martha yesterday and heard some interesting stuff. He gave Damon a sly smile. I think you’ll find the new addition to the farm interesting.

Chapter 2

Valerie stared at the snowy, dismal landscape through Martha’s dirty windshield. Fat flakes floated lazily down around them as they made their way slowly along the road from the city back to the small Alaskan town that Valerie had grown up in. She’d landed in the city airport, hours away by road, and opted out of taking a small bush plane to the little town. The idea of being stuffed into one of those little flying cans was enough to make a person quake.

You look like someone ate your lunch and popped the bag.

Valerie nearly laughed at the silliness of the analogy, but she still felt bad enough about everything that it wasn’t hard to tamp down any humor.

Just thinking. She attempted a smile as she looked over at Martha. The woman had white along her temples, a compliment to the short gray curls that capped her head. Valerie was grateful for her and didn’t want her to feel that she didn’t appreciate the kind offer of staying with her for Christmas.

You’ve told me about the ex-boyfriend, though I doubt you told me everything. ‘He was just a jerk’ doesn’t give one much to go on. And you told me about your apartment burning, but you haven’t said a thing about any pets or job or anything else going on in your life. Are you staying healthy?

Yes, I am. My job… she trailed off. How humiliating would it be to tell her aunt she no longer had a job? The thought of telling Martha that she was not only homeless and without a significant other, but also jobless because she’d foolishly insulted her boss, was too much. Is great, just nothing super exciting. You know, same good stuff as usual.

Martha glanced at her, and Valerie got the feeling she didn’t fully believe her. Martha didn’t say anything about it, though, just changed the subject to that of her farm. I agreed to have some of my animals in the live Nativity scene for church, so while you’re here, I’d love it if you’d be able to help prepare and train the animals for it.

Valerie kept the grimace off her face. She’d lived a beautifully clean life with no animal fur, pristine white carpet, and decidedly no animal smells up until now. It would be hard to give that up, but she couldn’t deny this small act of help her aunt requested.

Sounds great. It’s not like there’s anything else to do in this middle-of-nowhere place, she thought. "How are you doing these days?"

Life is good. I keep busy, but lately sometimes, that house just seems too big, with only me there. Martha shrugged, but Valerie got the feeling that there was more to how she felt, and the woman was too stubborn and independent to admit it.

When it became clear that she wouldn’t expound any more, Valerie asked the dreaded question, wondering what she was about to get thrust into. What animals do you have these days?

A whole passel. I have goats, some mini horses, a few donkeys, Marlin the Mule, Randy the gelding, chickens, bunnies… While her aunt went on, Valerie tried not to think about jumping out of the truck, but the more Martha talked about her bustling farm, the more tempting it was.

That’s a ton of animals. How do you possibly do it all? Valerie stared at her, part in curiosity, part in horror. She couldn’t imagine being in charge of so many other lives.

I have a couple of teenage neighbor boys that come help after school during the week, but some days it is a bit much. Martha’s mouth turned down for an instant, and Valerie wondered if maybe it was becoming too much. Martha had always been active and a strong character, but she did most everything alone, and if she had a lot of animals to maintain, Valerie could imagine it would get more and more difficult.

Not sure how to touch on the subject, or even if it was her place, given how long it had been since they’d even spoken last, Valerie changed the subject.

Um, what’s a gelding?

Martha laughed. Girl, you grew up on a farm out here!

I know, I know. I’ve tried to wipe all remembrance of it out of my mind. She’d done everything possible to change herself and forget where she’d come from.

Well, it seems to have worked. A gelding is a male horse that can’t sire foals—baby horses.

That’s right, I remember. A mare is a female horse, and a stallion can sire foals, but is super dangerous because he has all that testosterone still.

Martha was nodding. Pretty accurate. Some stallions can be nice, but usually, they’re high strung and can be aggressive.

As they finally pulled up the long snowy drive to the house, snow crunching under the tires as they came to a stop, Valerie was surprised at how familiar it felt. With the exception of some weathering, everything looked strikingly the same as when she’d left at eighteen—the log cabin-style house, with the rectangular wood deck that would hold chairs in the summer for friends to talk and laugh, and the pretty and traditional-looking red barn with white shutters that stood a good several yards from the house.

They both got out of the truck and Valerie inhaled deeply the rich scent of the smoke ushered out of the chimney from the woodstove. She reached back inside and pulled out her backpack. It was stuffed with quickly purchased changes of clothing and necessities since she hadn’t had a great amount of time to shop. The jacket she had that worked so well in the Colorado cold wasn’t enough to stop the biting