The Christmas Catch

door. “Come on, let’s grab our coats. The Pancake Palace awaits!”

    Christine sat in Ellen’s office in a glitzy skyscraper, a hazy view of the river just visible through the pounding snow.
    “I’m glad you’re taking me up on this,” Ellen said, handing the plane tickets and a house key across her desk.
    “It’s not exactly like I had a choice,” Christine said, accepting them.
    Ellen shifted in her expensive leather chair. She was good at what she did and ran this department without a hitch. Christine only wished Ellen would give her a chance to prove herself as something more than a copywriter. Apart from having a knack for turning a phrase, Christine had artistic talent, too. She was certain she could put her own line together, given the opportunity. She’d fleshed out several concepts already, but Ellen wouldn’t even take a look. Ellen said she was burning out, that she needed to get away and recharge her batteries. No sense branching off into something new when Christine could barely keep up with the day-to-day, as it was.
    Ellen centered her snazzy red frames on her nose, then said with assurance, “You’ll love it up there. Nice and peaceful, the perfect getaway for you and your boy. Give you two a chance to reconnect.”
    “Plus, I’m doing you a favor,” Christine reminded her.
    Ellen laughed heartily, tossing her chin-length auburn hair. “All right, already. You’re doing me a favor.”
    Ellen’s book editor cousin was vacationing in Europe and needed a house sitter. Ellen, who generally accepted the holiday task, was jetting down to Mexico with some hot new number. Christine admired Ellen’s chutzpah in sticking with the dating scene year after year. Disappointments never seemed to faze her, and she remained hopeful—one boyfriend after the next—that this guy was finally the one.
    “So, when do you go on vacation?” Christine asked.
    “Day after tomorrow. Same day as you.”
    “Guess you’ll be packing more lightly.”
    “If you’re asking whether I’m taking the string bikini, the answer is yes.”
    Christine was impressed with her older friend. Ellen was fifty but still had the figure of a woman in her thirties. Of course, Ellen and her Stairmaster worked at it. Christine got her workouts chasing after Tyler.
    “How old is this guy?” Christine asked, betting he was several years younger.
    Ellen furiously fanned her face with some desk papers. “Of age,” she said slyly. Suddenly, her face lit up. “Say! Maybe you’ll meet someone in New England?”
    Christine stood, gathering her things. “You’re forgetting one very important fact. I’m not looking.”
    “Pays to keep your eyes open,” Ellen said with a smile.

Chapter Two

    “Mommy! Look out!” Tyler yelped from the backseat. Christine gripped the steering wheel of the huge SUV, wrenching them off to the side of the road and out of the path of the oncoming pickup. Her heart beat furiously as she brought the car to a halt and cursed the driving snow. This wasn’t some idyllic New England snowfall; they were caught up in a blizzard, one as blinding as they come.
    “Tyler, baby,” she asked, reaching back and laying a hand on his leg. “Are you all right?”
    She caught his big-eyed gaze in the rearview mirror. “That was cool! Can we do it again?”
    “No,” Christine answered, breathing heavily. “We most certainly can’t do it again.”
    Just then something knocked at her driver’s side window. Christine glanced quickly at Tyler, then cautiously lowered the glass.
    A handsome man with a rugged face and stunning blue eyes peered into her vehicle.
    “Everyone okay in there?” He wore a deep blue parka, jeans, and sturdy boots. A large golden retriever bounded up behind him, leaping against the side of the SUV and perching its paws on Christine’s windowsill.
    “Doggie!” Tyler cried happily.
    “Well hey there, little fellow,” the man said kindly before sternly commanding his dog. “Mason, get back in the truck.”
    The dog immediately obeyed, springing inside the truck that sat across the road with its driver’s door ajar. The man turned his gaze on Christine and she unexpectedly felt her heart skip a beat. She judged him to be in his thirties, maybe five or six years older than she was.
    “Yes, yes. We’re fine.”
    “Good to hear,” the man said. “You nearly ran me off the road back there.”
    “I nearly—?”
    He shared a warming smile. “It’s not that I mind. It’s