Page 49 of Mistletoe All the Way

That’s a good idea, to involve other shops and get them publicity too. I reply with a yes, then hop in the truck and take off, heading to Silver Bells Sleigh Rides. Once I arrive, a blur of cinnamon and four fast legs rushes my way.

It’s Rusty, bounding across the lawn, barking in excitement, then jumping up and giving me a dog kiss as I hop out of my truck.

“I missed you too, sweet boy,” I say, hugging him, then petting him as he whimpers.

But not for long. He trots across the sprawling front lawn, checking back to make sure I’m following him through the snow, escorting me around the big white farmhouse toward the red barn in the back, where my client adjusts a collar on a caramel-colored beauty with a majestic mane. The horse stands tall and proud, her tail twitching, like she’s showing off all those lush strands.

She’s patient as Noah slides the collar an inch farther back on her. I stare as my chest heats up.

Evidently, there’s just something about a man and a horse that gets me going.

But best to not let on since Noah’s grandfather is here too, buffing a gleaming red sleigh parked right inside the barn. He looks just as I remember from sleigh rides in the past. Rusty barks, then jumps up on the seat of the sleigh, parking his fluffy butt on the cushion. I laugh at his antics, and Noah swings his gaze to me, before calling out to his dog. “Rusty. Get down from there.”

“Hey there, Eloise,” his grandfather says, then turns to Noah. “He’s no bother, kiddo. Reminds me of Latte.”

“S’pose he does,” Noah says, a little wistfully, before giving me a tip of the cowboy hat. “Good to see you, Eloise.”

And my chest? It flutters. Along with other parts.

I set a hand on the side of the barn door to steady myself. Note to self: see if Webflix is carrying any Christmas cowboy movies. I might need to watch one or ten to get this strange cowboy fascination out of my system.

“Hi,” I say, a little breathy, since I can’t stop staring at him buckling the harness on that creature. Am I… gasp… a horse girl?

“How’s it going?”

I pause before answering, mostly because the thoughts in my head consist largely of imagining him on that horse, offering me a hand, and pulling me up to join him. I swallow roughly, staring at Noah, who’s looking back at me like I don’t make sense.

“You okay, Eloise?”

I blink off the fog of… cowboy porn. “Great!” I squeak out.

Hank—Noah’s grandfather—chuckles knowingly, stopping his work on the sleigh. “Horse getting to you, Eloise? It happens. You wouldn’t be the first.”

He must have seen visions of mustangs in my eyes. I swallow, then smile. “She’s a beauty.”

“Sure is. The name’s Honey,” Noah says, then reaches into a bucket, takes out a slice of apple, and feeds it to her. “And it’s perfect for her.”

Oh. My. God. Did he just baby-talk a horse?

“Nice to meet you, Honey,” I say to the beautiful beast, who lifts her head toward me, then offers it, like a cat asking to be petted.

“She loves attention,” Noah says, then rubs her shoulder. “You can pet her if you want.”

“Of course I do,” I say, stepping closer and giving her muzzle a stroke. The horse makes a soft whinny.

I lower my palm and step back, giving her some space.

“She’s the horse I learned to ride on,” Noah adds. “She’s as sweet as she is strong, but she’s starting to take it easy. She likes horseback rides and showing off her pretty face, but she’s down to just one sleigh ride a day,” he says, patting her muzzle. She turns into his hand, sticking out her big tongue and licking his palm.

A tingle shoots down my back. This is getting dangerous. I clear my thoughts as best I can.

“And it’s nice to see you, Hank.” I laser all my attention on Noah’s grandfather, gesturing to the horse and the sleigh. “Call me a detective, but I’m guessing someone’s taking a sleigh ride soon. Do you have one scheduled before the kickoff?”

“We do,” Hank says, then comes around and pats Honey’s haunches. “A hockey player and his fiancée are in town. They like sleigh rides, so they wanted to squeeze one in before the contest.”

“Rowan and Isla? The defenseman and the matchmaker who won his cold, black heart when she was hired to find him a match for the Christmas Eve gala a couple years back?”

“Yup.” Hank turns to Noah. “When she said cold, black heart did your ears perk up and think we meant you?”