Curvy Christmas Magic for the Mountain Man (Mountain Man Brides For Christmas #4)
Chapter 1
Celia
Laughter fills my mountain cabin home as I host our monthly book club.
Jen, Trudy, Alice, Artina, and Noelle sit around my living room discussing our latest read while I refill their wineglasses with the rosé that Alice brought.
My windows are open, letting in the cool October mountain breezes, and everything feels cozy and homey.
"Sit back down, Celia," says Trudy. "Stop being such a hostess."
"I am the hostess."
"I do love it when Celia hosts. Her house is so cool," says Artina, leaning back in her chair with a sigh as she waves her hand around at my various trinkets.
I have filled my home with crystals, candles, and other witchy little things over the past years. As a practicing witch, I like to keep my home connected with the spirit realm as much as possible. I have a room upstairs dedicated to my altar, though my entire house can serve as my altar at times.
"Oh, you just reminded me," says Jen, sitting up and grabbing her purse. "Celia, I have a little gift for you. When Anthony and I were in San Francisco last weekend, I found this in a psychic bookshop and thought you would like it."
My friend lifts out a velvet bag from her purse. Opening it, a stone the size of my thumb rolls out, colored like the sunset.
I gasp when I realize what she's holding. "Is that a fire opal?" I ask.
"Yes!" Jen says with excitement. "Isn't it gorgeous? When I saw it, I had to get it for you."
Jumping up, I hug my friend. "Thank you! I absolutely love it. It's going on my altar."
The fire opal catches the light from the candles, and I can feel its energy radiating warmth through my palm.
There's something special about this stone, something that makes my witchy instincts tingle with anticipation.
I can already envision it sitting on my altar upstairs, amplifying my spell-work with its fiery energy.
Our book club continues, although we have difficulty getting back to the topic at hand. I am too distracted staring at my new trinket and sipping my wine.
"Celia," Artina says, giving my foot a playful kick. "So what do you think about the stranger who showed up at the end?"
Looking over at her, I take a moment to remember what book we're talking about. "Oh, I think that was definitely her father," I say.
Noelle shoots her fist into the air in triumph. "I finally have someone on my side!" she yells with a laugh.
Ten minutes later, I stand in my kitchen with Alice and Trudy loading the dishwasher.
"Hey, I need some things done around the cabin. Do either of you know a handyman up here on the mountain? The only ones I found are in Branwen Beach or Corvid Valley, but that seems awfully far to hire someone," I say.
"Oh, I do," says Trudy. "We just had someone work over at the Foxhole. Calvin was super happy with how things turned out. I'll text you his info, okay?"
"Thanks, Trudy. I appreciate it."
Just then, my phone rings on the table. Picking it up, I hit ignore as I roll my eyes.
"Who was that?" asks Jen.
"Just my Aunt Griselda," I say with a sigh.
"Oh, is she still bothering you about being engaged or married before you get your inheritance? The grimoire?"
"Yep. And honestly, I think I'm at the point where I might just lie and tell her I am engaged in hopes that she gets off my freaking back."
My friends laugh at the idea while they grab their jackets and say their goodbyes, leaving my cabin quiet after their departure.
I walk around my living room, blowing out candles and tidying up the remnants of our evening. The fire opal sits on my coffee table, and I pick it up again, feeling its smooth surface. Maybe this stone will bring me some luck with my aunt-situation.
Lord knows I need all the help I can get.
A couple of days later, my phone rings from an unknown number. Since I left a message for the handyman Trudy recommended, I answer, hoping it's him.
As soon as I say hello, a familiar aging voice demands, "Celia Weaver, are you avoiding your aunt?"
"No, Auntie, of course not," I say, internally groaning as I plop down on the couch. "Hello, how are you?"
My black tuxedo cat, Trouble, curls up on my lap as my aunt tortures me on the other line.
After a brief minute exchanging pleasantries, my aunt dives right in.
"Have you met a man yet, Celia?"
My shoulders tense at the question, and I decide to just go for it.
"Why, yes, Aunt Griselda, I have. That's why I've been AWOL. I'm in love, and we're engaged to be married."
Hearing my aunt's pleasure on the other end doesn't stop my neck from burning with guilt over the lie.
"That's wonderful. I knew you would find someone if you just put yourself out there. What is this young man's name?"
My stomach tightens with fear. I hadn't thought that part through.
Looking around desperately, I spot a small glass vase on the side table next to me and impulsively slam it to the floor, sending shards everywhere.
"Oh, Aunt Griselda, I have to run! Trouble just broke a vase. I'll call you back," I say and hang up before she responds.
My cat peers up at me with a look of judgment.
"What?"
Trouble just flicks his tail and settles deeper into the couch cushions, clearly unimpressed with my performance.
I stare down at the broken glass scattered across my hardwood floor and realize I've just created a bigger problem for myself.
Now I actually have to come up with a fiancé's name for when she calls back.
And knowing Aunt Griselda, she will definitely call back.