Christmas Angels Read online

  “Pictures can hide a multitude of problems. Very expensive ones, and the fact that there are only three pictures total is a red flag, especially since only one shows the house. The other is an aerial. You have no idea what it looks like inside.”

  “It’s rustic. It’s a timber home, what could go wrong?”

  “Termites?”

  He had a point. “Well, the thing is still standing.”

  “You have no way of really knowing that without going and taking a professional with you to check it out.” Dan leaned against the counter. “Why are you so hell-bent on this idea? You’re good at what you do. You have a good life here. Why the heck would you want to move to the mountains?”

  “I loved spending time with my grandparents. The mountains are like an old friend to me. The nature. The quiet. I always thought I’d rent rooms out to people, and help them enjoy the area just like Gram and Pop. It was a good and pleasing way of life.”

  “You’d be bored out of your skull up there. No shopping. Probably no pizza delivery. You do love pizza.”

  “I can make my own pizza.”

  He cocked his head.

  “I could learn.”

  “You love your job.”

  “I wouldn’t say I love it. I’m good at it. But I could still do some projects if I get bored. I love that place. It’s why I’ve worked so hard and saved for so long. Every bonus, every raise—I’ve invested it all for this one dream.”

  Dan folded his arms. “So that’s why I couldn’t get you to look at a new house last year?”

  “Exactly. I told you. I have everything I need here. I’ve got money socked away for a new place.” She raised her eyebrows. “The right place. The one that I’ve had in my heart since as long as I can remember.”

  “But a person in your position should live in a much nicer house in a much better area of the city. Maybe you’d be happier here if—”

  “There’s nothing wrong with this house or my neighborhood. Or Angel’s Rest.”

  “I didn’t say there was. Your house will be an easy sell, but I just didn’t think you were really serious about a house in the mountains.”

  “You never listen to what I say.” Which was fine, really. It would be a different story if he were her boyfriend, but their relationship wasn’t like that.

  “I do listen. Kind of. I guess I just didn’t put two and two together.”

  “Well, call it four and help me, why don’t you?”

  He handed her a plate with more barbecue, slaw, baked beans, and corn bread on it. “Do you know how much work a place like that could take?”

  “I can take a leave of absence to do the renovation. It won’t be much different from what I do on a daily basis, but instead of opening a mega-retail site I’ll be opening an inn. I can do contract work from up there and do both for a while until I build up a clientele.”

  “You really have thought this through.”

  “I’ve been dreaming of it for years, Dan.” She walked into the living room with her plate and plopped down on the sofa. “You just don’t get it. My grandparents owned this inn on the mountainside of Antler Creek. What are the odds of me finding this out the night before it goes on sale?”

  He sat down in one of the chairs and balanced his plate on his knee. “One in a million, I’m sure.”

  “Right. Each summer,” Liz said, “people came not just to Antler Creek, but to my grandparents’ inn for the fishing and fireside cookouts, and every winter they came for the skiing and Christmas festivities. The inn was known for the best Christmas lights around. You could see them from down in the valley. People came from miles around.” In her mind she was back there, bundled up and excited as people began to join together. “There were carriage rides up the mountain to see the lights up close. Gram would make hot chocolate and her secret-recipe cookies for visitors. I helped. It was magical.”

  Dan took out his phone and started typing. “And today the population in Antler Creek is eleven hundred twenty-nine, and twenty-five years ago the population was twelve hundred thirty-four.”

  So there wasn’t much growth. That was just year-round population. “A steady population,” she reasoned.

  “A stagnant one.”

  “It’s not about the population. Or maybe it is. Antler Creek is quaint. It’s the perfect place to relax. I loved spending time there.”

  “That was a long time ago, Liz. And you haven’t been back in years. What’s that say about it?”

  She shut her mouth. That was a fair point. “It broke my heart a little that my grandparents left it behind. I’d always assumed I’d take it over from them.”

  “What will your guests do with their time when they stay with you?”

  “All the things they used to. Enjoy nature. Fly-fishing. Antiquing. Hike to the waterfall. Pop led hikes and fishing excursions nearly every week.” Am I really brave enough to do this?

  “I guess the waterfall would still be there,” he said. “Are you going to take strangers on hikes in the woods? That sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

  “Why not? And fly-fishing on the stream was amazing in the summer. I used to be quite good at it.”

  He sighed. “You know I’m not going to wade out in cold water and fish, right?”

  She shrugged. This wasn’t about the two of them. He knew that too. “You can visit. I promise to have Wi-Fi.”

  His mouth tugged to the side the way it did when he was disappointed.

  “Be happy for me,” she said. “Please?”

  He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m still not saying this is a good idea, but if you’re going to do it be careful. The sale is as-is, where-is, so if you win, you’re stuck with it even if it’s a hunk of termite-ridden rubbish.”

  “I hear you. You’ve made your point, but I’m also stuck with it if it’s exactly like I remember, and that would be awesome.” She grinned so wide her lashes tickled her cheeks.

  “I head to Denver late tomorrow night for my cousin’s wedding,” Dan said. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into coming with me instead? It’ll be a great party and a fun long weekend. Could save you six figures.”

  She’d declined the invitation weeks ago. “No thanks. I’ve got things to do around here that I’ve neglected the past couple of months while I was working in South Carolina.” She took in a long deep breath, crossed her fingers, and held them up. “Or I might own a new home.”

  He rolled his eyes, and shoved the last bit of barbecue into his mouth. “I’ll be back Tuesday. Keep me posted.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Liz had met with her banker, submitted her proof of funds, and finished her entries on the auction portal with little time to spare before the auction began.

  Like Dan, her banker had given her a speech about buying a property at auction sight unseen. He hadn’t seemed any less concerned when she mentioned that she used to spend every summer and winter there as a kid, and that she had a good feeling about this. It might have sounded like an impulse purchase to him, but she’d been wishing, hoping, and planning for this for years. It was surely meant to be. It didn’t really matter what his personal thoughts were. This was her decision, and her money, and she had the proof of funds letter in hand. She was set.

  The thought of spending Christmas at Angel’s Rest this year made her heart dance. She might even be able to convince Mom and Dad to come for a visit, rather than spending the holiday somewhere warm and tropical, the way they’d started doing a few years back.

  Five minutes before the bidding started, a timer displayed at the top of her screen, counting down the minutes and seconds until auction time.

  As time ticked down, her palms dampened. Her fingers left wet marks on her keyboard when she refreshed her screen again, just to be sure she was in sync. When Gram and Pop sold Angel’s Rest and took off in an RV to see the United States, she’d been crushed. She hadn’t had any control over what happened back then, but this was in her hands now. She had every intention o
f being the first bidder.

  When the bidding opened there must have been fifty bids all at once.

  Her hands twisted in her lap.

  The price climbed quickly. Her heart pounded with each increasing bid she made.

  Please. Please. Please.

  If the bids kept increasing at this rate, her dream would be over before it ever started.

  Finally, the bidding slowed when it got to seventy-five thousand. No doubt there were people who just perused every auction in hopes of winning a hidden gem at a bargain. She could see the appeal. This was fun. Almost aerobic.

  She took a sip of water, and watched carefully as more bids posted. Feeling more empowered with each bid, she calculated the time left, pacing her bids to increase her odds of being the final bidder.

  It was tempting to make a big leap and just get the bidding war over.

  More of Pop’s words of wisdom were still playing in her head. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. So, Liz forced herself to be patient.

  With twenty seconds to go she made one final bid, and then closed her eyes and silently prayed.

  In those final seconds, no one else countered her offer.

  Then WINNING BIDDER flashed across her screen in bright blue, along with a very, very long list of legalese and mandatory steps. On a bright note, even with the gavel fee and other associated costs she wouldn’t need a loan. Years of prudent saving had prepared her for this moment.

  A swirling combination of exuberance and dread assaulted her. What if, as Dan had warned, the house was a termite-ridden heap? This was her life savings. Every nerve in her body seemed to vibrate.

  But then she turned and caught a glimmer of sunlight bouncing from the glass of a picture frame sitting on the shelf of her bookcase, like a tiny angel reminding her that everything happens for a reason, and she knew that it would be okay.

  She bounced out of her chair and walked straight over to the bookcase and took the framed picture from its place of honor. In her shaking hands, she, Gram, and Pop smiled back at her from the front yard of Angel’s Rest. Wearing the cap Pop had given her, the one with the colorful hand-tied fishing flies on it, she grinned like a freckle-faced jack-o’-lantern with a sunburn.

  When they’d taken off for parts unknown in that big honkin’ motor home, she’d thought they’d gone crazy. It wasn’t until months later, when Pop died, that the whole story unveiled itself. The ugly truth that cancer had eaten away at his body and the year they’d been told he’d have wasn’t what God had in mind, and not two months after Pop passed Gram went to sleep and never woke up.

  She missed them so much. Angel’s Rest had been her happy place. She wanted nothing more than to honor her grandparents by sharing the beauty of Antler Creek again.

  She spun around, hugging the memory in her arms, dancing around the house, exuberant at the thought of what lay in front of her.

  She wished it were all hers today, but that wasn’t the case. There was the matter of fund transfers and deeds and taxes and such. It might be up to thirty days from now before she could call Angel’s Rest her own.

  Dan was probably getting ready to leave town. She tried to call her parents, but got their voice mail. She was dying to share the news with someone.

  She sat down, smiling and letting it all sink in.

  There’s no reason I can’t drive up to see it. The listing had clearly said the property was unoccupied. No one could stop her from peeking in a few windows to get the ball rolling. See how the town had changed. Meet a neighbor or two. There was plenty she could do to get ready to get a plan in place. There was so much to do.

  She looked at her watch, then picked up her phone and dialed Peggy.

  “You’re already bored to tears? It hasn’t even been a whole day yet,” Peggy teased.

  “Hello to you, too.” Her insides swirled. “And no. I’m not bored. Quite the opposite.”

  “Really? What’s up?”

  “I need the rest of the year off.”

  There was a long pause on Peggy’s end. “Okay, that was unexpected. But you have the time to take. As a friend, is everything okay?”

  “Oh yes. Everything is fine. Wonderful, in fact. Peggy, you’re not going to believe this. I don’t think I do yet. Remember when we were talking about B and Bs and my grandparents’ inn yesterday?”

  “Dreaming again. Yes. That would be so wonderful.”

  “It’s not just a dream anymore,” Liz said. “Angel’s Rest went on the auction block this morning. I bought it.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. I know. It’s all crazy, and unexpected, but I found it online last night, and everything has fallen right into place.”

  Liz heard the heavy sigh across the line.

  “I have a feeling you’re never coming back,” Peggy said. “And as your boss it breaks my heart, but as your friend I couldn’t be happier for you. You take all the time you need. We’ll work out details after the first of the year.”

  “Thank you so much, Peggy.”

  “You’ve earned it. Send pictures of that sunrise. I’ll be living vicariously through you.”

  “I promise I will.” She hung up the phone feeling like a hundred helium balloons were lifting her from the ground.

  Liz closed her eyes. “Thanks, Pop and Gram. I’m pretty sure you and a team of angels are looking over me today.” She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling closer to them than she had in a long time.

  She tossed a change of clothes and essentials in an overnight bag, grabbed a pair of boots from her closet, and prayed it wasn’t raining in Antler Creek as she headed out the door on an adrenaline high.

  Chapter Three

  Matt Hardy sat on his regular seat at the Creekside Café counter—third from the end—the same one he’d sat on when he and his parents would come here when he was just a kid.

  “Good afternoon, Matt.” Maizey set a glass of sweet tea in front of him. “Everyone is talking about the auction this morning. Speculating.”

  “No surprise there,” he said with a snicker. He didn’t have any intention of letting on that he’d bid on it too.

  Buck, who owned the Buck Holler Bar, announced, “I heard some Charlotte city slicker bought the place.”

  Someone else said, “I bet they bulldoze the old place and put up a big house, probably something modern that will stick out like a sore thumb up there.”

  “Or maybe it’s good news and they’ll reopen the inn,” Maizey said, trying to keep the locals from overreacting. “That would be good news, right? I mean look at all of the places that’ve sold only to fall into ruin. It’s crazy.”

  Maizey put a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “At least you’re smart enough not to rent yours out so it stays in good repair.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather break it in myself.” He’d quickly realized that having his house done and not living there year-round was worse than waiting to build it in the first place. “You really think someone might bulldoze the old inn?”

  “Who knows,” Maizey said. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “It’s a shame it was ever bought by that art gallery. They sure did ruin a good thing,” another local said. “If they’d have kept it an inn or a bed-and-breakfast I’m sure they’d have been able to keep the clientele coming back. The Westmorelands did a good business up there at Angel’s Rest.”

  “Angel’s Rest was a big act to follow. Good people.”

  “Sure were.”

  “The best.”

  “Well, maybe good people bought it this time. You old boys have sure turned into a judgey old bunch. That’s enough about that,” Maizey said, with a scolding wag of her finger. “Now who’s ready for pie?”

  Hands shot up in the air. “Coming right up,” she said.

  Maizey made the rounds with pie until there was only one slice left. “I can’t give this last piece away? How about you, Matt? You could use some extra meat on those bones. You work too hard.”

  “No thank you, but if
there’s any left I’ll get some to go with my dinner.”

  She winked. “I’ll make sure there’s a piece left for you if I have to bake another one special.”

  “You’re too good to me, Maizey.”

  “Your momma would haunt me silly if I weren’t.” Her laugh carried across the room.

  She grabbed his sandwich and slid the plate in front of him, then picked up a pitcher of tea and made a lap around the tables. How she single-handedly handled this crowd most days he had no idea, but she managed.

  The bell at the door jingled and a woman wearing khakis and a blazer walked in.

  He heard Maizey stop to chat with her as she took a seat at the table behind him.

  The woman’s voice had a Southern twang to it, but there was something gentle about it. Behind him he heard Maizey give her the rundown on the specials, and then they started talking about what there was to do in Antler Creek as if she’d be sticking around. He made a half spin on the stool.

  She was definitely a city type, but not like his ex, Robyn, who wore shoes that cost as much as his first truck payment, and had one of those pearly white smiles that nearly blinded you from across the street. You didn’t see smiles that white in this neck of the woods. That took more than your usual teeth-whitening toothpaste.

  He ran his tongue across his own teeth. He’d done the whitening thing once at the insistence of Robyn, who had made it seem barbaric that he’d never considered it before. The next thing he knew he was lying in a reclined position with his lips jacked open and a purple light shining on his mouth in the middle of the mall. He’d never do that again. His teeth had been sore for a week following the treatment. He should’ve known better than to trust a girl who spelled Robin with a “y.” It wasn’t that way on her birth certificate. Her mother had made a point of telling him that the first time they’d met. Apparently, Robyn-with-a-“y” liked to be different, and he was just one more thing to add to her list. Country boy. Check.

  City girls. A promise for problems. Check.

  Not that he really needed a reminder. But if that were true, why couldn’t he stop himself from turning around and taking one more look at her?