Chapter 2
Holly
I hate Christmas. There, I said it. So, when the holiday-themed ringtone starts playing from my phone, I’m tempted to throw it out the window.
I want a break from the endless cheer of the season. I should be allowed that. But, as the oldest daughter of the family, I am not allowed to hate Christmas. At least, not in any way that shows on my face.
Inside, I am a seething grump. I finally answer on the third ring, but only when I see that it’s a call from my sister.
“Where are you?” Joy hisses.
Frosty makes a soft sound, and I glance into the backseat that holds the pet carrier for my Pomeranian puppy. He’s active and playful on the best of days so the long drive is frustrating for him.
“Soon,” I promise him quietly.
“I’m here at the hospital,” Joy says when I don’t answer her immediately.
Our family hosts an annual charity event for the hospital in Sweetgrass River. It’s why I’m dressed in a ridiculous elf costume as I drive to…well, I’m not sure where I am anymore. I suspect my GPS turned me around on the last exit. But I don’t tell my sister that. She would freak out.
“I’m on my way,” I answer in my reassuring big sister voice.
This mountain I’m on is absolutely beautiful, but the snow flurries dancing in the air are making me nervous.
There’s supposed to be a snowstorm hitting parts of North Carolina today.
But not near Sweetgrass, which is where I should be right about now.
“You should have been here already,” she says. I can imagine her dressed up in an over-the-top costume complete with shoes that are killing her feet.
“I’ll be there soon. What’s going on anyway?” I lower my voice with the question. The event doesn’t start until tonight. She shouldn’t be looking for me.
She’s quiet for a long time, and I can imagine her pacing up and down one of the hospital’s long corridors in the wing of the hospital that my family has financed.
Yes, we’re those Jollys. The Jolly Family that also happens to run a media and entertainment company by the same name.
The bulk of our revenue comes from the holiday movie extravaganza that we host every year.
Dozens of new movies all release within a few weeks in the hopes that we can remind families what the holidays are really about. Gag me.
She’s quiet but around her, I can hear the hustle and bustle of people setting things up for the charity event. It’s going to be the highlight of the city for at least a month, and my mom won’t have it any other way.
But Joy is quiet for so long that my holiday senses start tingling. This cannot be anything good.
“What is it?” I finally demand, picturing her biting down on her red lip. She only does that when she has something she doesn’t want to tell me or when she’s thinking of her boss. He’s some mountain man that she won’t tell me the name of because she signed an NDA when she went to work.
“Bobby is going to be here tonight,” she admits in a small tone.
He’s my ex-boyfriend, but when I say I don’t care, I really mean it.
Bobby wasn’t a bad boyfriend, but there was no spark or chemistry between us.
The only reason we dated was because my mom and his mom were in love with the idea.
We broke up two weeks ago. It was my day, but Bobby seemed relieved when I called it quits.
“I figured he would be. Why does that matter?” I ask. Even if Bobby brought a date, I wouldn’t be jealous. We only make sense as a couple in the holiday movies we star in together.
“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this,” she says, and her voice gets quieter, the sounds behind her muffled now. “He’s going to propose.”
I gasp, the idea both repulsive and unbelievable. “He isn’t!”
“Well, mom is all for it,” she says.
“And she’s OK with me just being ambushed in public?” I ask and instantly wonder why I even brought it up. Of course, she is. She would love nothing more than for her oldest daughter to get engaged in front of half of North Carolina’s most elite.
Hmm, I wonder if it’s too late to stage a big scene. Two years ago, there was a bit of an uproar because the much older, silver fox who played Santa Claus went outside for a breath of fresh air and kidnapped one of the elves.
He threw the curvy girl onto the back of his bike and took off into the night. Is it crazy that I want that kind of passion when I meet someone?
“I thought you should know,” she says quietly. I don’t miss the sadness in her voice.
I can’t figure out which one of us she’s sadder for. Me who’s about to be proposed to in front of everyone or herself whose boss doesn’t seem to acknowledge that she exists despite the fact that she’s wildly in love with him. Ugh, why are guys like this?
“Thanks for the heads up,” I manage even though the too-tiny-for-my-curvy-frame elf costume suddenly feels much tighter.
How can this be happening to me? Am I too young to have a heart attack?
Would having a heart attack get me out of this?
Or would my mother slip the ring on my finger even as the surgeon performed a triple bypass?
“Are you still coming? I can tell everyone you’re sick.”
It’s an appealing option. But I’m not leaving Joy to fight my battles. It’s always been the two of us together ever since we were kids. “I’ll be there.”
We say our goodbyes, and I sigh heavily. By the end of the night, I might just be an engaged woman if I don’t figure something out. Sure, I could tell him no. But news of my public rejection will make the rounds in a matter of minutes thanks to social networks.
Next, there will be interview requests from the media, countless videos from fans analyzing the “tell-tale signs” in our movies, and of course, the worst thing of all–a devaluation of company stock.
The dash for the car dings, interrupting my spiral. I’m not sure what that little symbol is. It’s definitely not gas since this is an electric car, a rental because my own convertible is in the shop.
“You should still be good for a while,” I say out loud. The guy at the rental place insisted the tiny vehicle was fully charged and capable of going for three hundred miles, far less than I actually needed.
The car retaliates by sputtering to a slow stop. I guide it to the side of the mountain. For a moment, I sit in silence. I watch the snow flurries and wonder what would happen if I walked away from it all. Will the world collapse if I’m not there to keep it spinning?
Frosty makes another impatient noise, and I know his little bladder has to be getting close to maximum capacity.
“You can potty then I’ll get on the phone. We’ll be out of here in no time,” I tell him with more confidence than I feel. I’m not sure where I am…or if I want to be found.
After Frosty has relieved his bladder and I’ve given him extra snuggles, I reach for my phone. It had plenty of bars and connection a few minutes ago, but now, there’s nothing.
Despite the fact I know it won’t work, I still try to call my sister twice before admitting defeat. I debate using emergency services then decide this isn’t an emergency. There are real people who need help. I just need to walk back down this mountain and find someone to give me a ride.
I’ve only passed one other vehicle on this mountain road. It was a pickup truck.
“Well, if there’s a truck, then someone lives on this road. We can hike to their house and ask to use a phone,” I say to Frosty, trying to think through my plan out loud.
He makes a growl, and I sigh. “Yes, I know that’s how urban legends start, but I don’t have any better ideas. Do you?”
He puts his head down on his paws, which I take to mean no.
“All right then, it looks like we are going on foot.” As soon as I say that, I glance down at my feet. I’m wearing green slippers with jingle bells glued to them.
My poor toes are going to be cold and wet before this is over. But I don’t see that we have much of a choice. Hopefully, if I’m lucky, we’re close to the house where the driver lives.
I put Frosty back in his little booties to protect his paws then the two of us start down the road. My shoes jingle with every step, mocking me and making me hate Christmas a little bit more.
We’ve been walking for close to three hours, and I’m not sure that we’re any closer to the imaginary cabin than when we started. It feels like I’ve walked fifty miles, but I know in reality it hasn’t been that far.
“Who decided that mountains should be so steep?” I pant.
The snow flurries are coming down faster, sticking together and forming slight snow accumulations. Right now, I’m regretting my decision to leave the warmth of the rental car.
I wonder if I died on the side of this mountain, if my mother would mourn me or the loss of my wedding more. Just the thought of a wedding planned by my mother is making me break out in hives.
“Let’s catch our breath,” I tell Frosty as I dust off a cold guardrail on the side of the road.
My breath hangs in little puffs of the air, and my best friend shivers. I feel a stab of guilt for the fact that we’re out here. I shouldn’t have trusted the stupid GPS on my phone. I shouldn’t have planned a day trip to get away from everything for a few hours. I shouldn’t have started walking.
“This was all such a dumb idea,” I mutter.
Frosty tips his head as if he’s agreeing.
I’m not sure if we should continue walking or try to find our way back to the car. Given how quickly the snow is falling, I worry that either choice is the wrong one.
With numb fingers, I tap at my phone screen, but nothing has changed. I still don’t have service no matter how many times I try to dial. The reality of the situation finally starts to sink in as I realize I’m trapped on the side of a mountain, and I have no idea what to do next.
Panicking is the natural next step, and I’m well on my way to that when I hear the distinct sound of a rumbling engine.
Frosty whimpers.
I square my shoulders and take a breath, pulling deep within for courage. “You’re right. We don’t know if he’s a deranged lunatic. But we don’t know he’s not one either. So, let’s just pretend to be tough. We can be tough.”
The truck slows to a stop as I finish my pep talk. The window rolls down slowly and then I’m staring into blue eyes the color of a summer day framed by long lashes. His face is all harsh angles softened by a dark, bushy beard that I want to feel underneath my fingertips.
My stomach swoops and despite the cold, snowy weather, my palms grow damp. I wipe them on the edge of my striped skirt and try to remember how to do normal stuff like talk to other human beings.
“Let me guess. You were the one driving the little wind-up car earlier,” he mutters.
“Electric car,” I quickly correct, already deciding I don’t like this guy.
He has that whole backwoods country boy charm that suggests city slickers don’t belong on his mountain. Ugh, I can already hear the executives planning a movie about a bearded lumberjack who looks exactly like this guy.
“Well, where is this fine piece of machinery?” he asks with a lifted brow as if he already knows the answer.
I want to hold onto my pride and tell him to stuff it like a Thanksgiving turkey. But I don’t love the idea of walking for another three hours with no guarantee that I’ll find anyone else to give me a ride. With a tinge of defeat to my tone, I finally admit, “On the side of the road.”
He smirks, and it does something funny to my insides. It makes me feel like I’m floating. “Do you and your…cotton ball…want a ride?”
“His name is Killer, and he is a savage beast that can rip a man limb from limb. He’s very protective, more of an attack dog than a companion.” I’m sure I look very menacing as the wind howls, and I shiver. I am never taking another trip by myself again.
His smirk grows into a grin. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
I follow his gaze to see Frosty cowering behind my jingly shoes. So much for making both of us look tough and strong in front of the potential lunatic. Now he knows it’s him versus me and…yeah, I guess he does kind of look like a cotton ball.
“It’s warm in my truck,” The stranger says though he still hasn’t stopped grinning like he finds this whole situation funny.
I sigh, knowing I have to get back for the holiday party. If I leave in time, maybe I can stop Bobby from dooming both of us by proposing. “Can you get me off this stupid mountain?”