Mistletoe Magic Page 3

  “Madam, that is why most people call us.”

  Madam?

  “Oh, well, of course.” Now that she had the agency on the phone, she was suddenly at a loss for words.

  “Miss,” the woman with the accent said. “I am a very busy woman. You called the agency, I am to assume that there was a reason.”

  It took Melanie a second to recover. “Yes, I would like to know what the procedure is for adopting a child.”

  There, she’d said it; she couldn’t take it back now!

  Melanie heard the woman’s sharp intake of breath. “This is not the way we practice. You must schedule an appointment with the office first. If we decide to consider your application, then you will be given the proper instructions.”

  Melanie visualized the woman on the phone. Tall, stern, with waist-length hair pulled back in a tight bun. She thought of the children in her care. She decided to act quickly.

  “Then I would like to make an appointment as soon as possible.”

  Another deep sigh, then the fluttering of paper. Melanie wondered if the woman was actually looking at an old-fashioned appointment book. Had computers not made their way to the adoption agency?

  “You are in luck,” the woman said. “We have an opening in the morning on Monday. Nine o’clock sharp. We do not tolerate tardiness.”

  Melanie’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. She couldn’t believe the way the woman spoke to her. She wasn’t a two-year-old. She wanted to tell her that, but bit her tongue. Now wasn’t the time to be a smart aleck. Briefly, she had the passing thought—if she was so punctual, why didn’t she answer the phone at eight o’clock sharp?

  “Of course not. I will be there promptly at nine.”

  “Of course you will,” the woman admonished. “I will need some information from you first.”

  Melanie was on the phone for the next few minutes, giving the woman, who hadn’t bothered to give her name, all the pertinent information one would need to run for president of the United States. When she hung up, it took a couple of minutes for Melanie to reacquaint herself with her surroundings. She was home in Placerville, in her kitchen. Images of prison camps kept flashing before her eyes. Those poor children!

  The woman reminded her of a female version of Scrooge. Wired from too much caffeine, Melanie decided it was a good time to take Odie for that promised extra-long walk. The cold morning air would clear her head, plus she could burn off all her excess energy.

  “Odie, let’s go take that walk I promised you,” she said as she grabbed her jacket from the front closet and removed his leash from a hook on the back of the front door. Upon hearing his name, Odie came running from his spot underneath the kitchen table before sliding to a stop in order for her to attach the leash to his collar. When all was in order, he jumped in circles, practically dragging her out the front door. Clovis remained perched on the windowsill in the living room, his nose in the air, apparently content to watch.

  Melanie pushed the door aside and was greeted by an icy gust of frosty air. She drew in a sharp breath. It was much colder than yesterday. Even colder than it had been a few hours ago. Single-digit temperatures were predicted for the day’s high.

  The condo’s greenway provided twelve miles of biking trails and hiking paths to satisfy all of the residents living at Pine Ridge Condominiums. As Melanie carefully wound her way down the main trail, she saw that the picnic tables were covered with a thin sheet of ice, and the dog pond that Odie loved to visit in the summer months was completely frozen over.

  Once inside the off-leash area, Melanie unhooked Odie’s leash, and he ran freely. Often they would see coyotes and the occasional fox, and Odie would go berserk upon catching their scent. Apparently the cold weather hadn’t kept the wild animals away from the area, because Odie had his nose to the frozen ground, sniffing ninety miles a minute.

  Melanie allowed Odie a few more minutes to do his business before calling to him. “Okay, bud, let’s take that walk I promised.” The dog would’ve been content to stay in the off-leash area, but Melanie knew from experience that if she let him stay too long, it would take forever to guide him back to the hiking path.

  Several inches of thick-crusted snow flanked the path leading to her preferred route. Expertly, Melanie and Odie ascended the icy mound leading to her favorite trail, where in the fall one could view a pumpkin farm along the hillside. Spring green vines dotted the mountain in late summer, after which the hillside became infused with varying shades of orange in the fall. It never failed to take her breath away. Even in the stark bareness of late fall, Melanie could appreciate the Colorado beauty. Tall pines scented the chilled air, and she detected a faint hint of wood smoke. Briefly, she had a flash of herself running through the pumpkin fields with two small children at her side.

  Two?

  Not wanting to get her hopes up, she’d tried to close her mind to this morning’s earlier conversation with the woman from the adoption agency. The possibility of one child more than excited her, but two? She allowed herself to imagine her life with two children. If the opportunity arose, she wouldn’t deny herself or the children. She’d taken care of Amanda and Ashley quite well if you excluded their getting lost on the mountain last year. The image cut off further thought. What if the woman from the adoption agency asked for a reference? What if Stephanie told the woman that she wasn’t ready for a child of her own? What if . . . what if . . . what if? Melanie knew her life would be closely scrutinized, she’d learned that much on her Web search.

  Could one innocent mistake ruin her future chances at adoption?

  Resigned that she might have to give up her dream of adopting a child, Melanie led Odie toward the condo. Maybe she’d just call and cancel Monday’s appointment.

  Maybe.

  No!

  Melanie was not a quitter.

  She’d cross that bridge Monday morning. Nine o’clock sharp.

  Chapter 4

  Melanie spent most of Sunday morning scrubbing her condo from top to bottom. With two animals in the house, she was constantly vacuuming and dusting. She planned to spend the day curled up with a book and a pot of tea. It was minus three, too cold to venture outdoors. She wanted to get to bed early. Rather than drive six hours to Denver the next morning, she’d hired a private jet to fly her there. She was meeting the pilot and copilot at 6:00 A.M. She’d arranged for a rental car to make the drive from the airport to the adoption agency. She’d scheduled her return flight for two forty-five, so she would be home by early evening.

  She phoned her mother asking if she could stop over around lunchtime to let Odie out. As always, her mother was glad to help. When she’d asked why she was flying to Denver, Melanie had clammed up. She didn’t want to tell anyone what her plans were just yet, but she didn’t want to lie to her mother, so she explained that she was taking a personal day to do something she’d been planning on for a while. A generic answer, but it was all she could come up with. Her mother didn’t pry, and, for that, she was glad.

  Melanie located her briefcase in her office, then added most of the important documents she would need to prove she was who she said she was and a dozen other papers she might need. She added her passport, just in case. She wanted to be prepared. It wasn’t like they were going to look at her bank statement, and say, “Pick a child.” No, the adoption process was much more detailed than even she could imagine.

  Mandatory legal criteria had to be met, plus each individual agency had its own criteria as well. Melanie was amazed at the amount of paperwork required, but something as important as adopting a child should take a lot of paperwork. Once her application was accepted, if it was accepted, then the lengthy process would begin. She wasn’t in a mad rush, but she knew in her heart that it was right for her. Felt it in her bones. Patience was required, and she was a very patient woman. Melanie knew one of the first requirements would be a home study, and if she was lucky enough, she would be able to bring a child home, where she would then be allo
wed to help the child make the transition from the orphanage to the new home.

  Odie and Clovis had positioned themselves beneath the kitchen table. Melanie removed the teakettle from the stove-top, filled it with tap water, then placed it back on the burner. She took three chamomile tea bags from a bright yellow canister on the counter and dropped them in the small china teapot given to her by her grandmother when she was a little girl. In order to keep the tea warm, Melanie placed a cosy, one she had knitted years ago, around the teapot.

  Maybe when Amanda and Ashley finished their pot holders, she would teach them how to make tea cosies. She knew that Stephanie loved to drink tea and would appreciate such a gift from her girls.

  Melanie’s tea ritual was old-fashioned, but she loved it. Her grandmother had taught her the proper way to steep loose leaf tea, how to pour properly, and also how to hold a delicate teacup. Though she didn’t practice this all the time, whenever she had company, or the occasion called for it, she returned to the ways taught by her grandmother. The kettle whistled, and Melanie filled the delicate china pot with boiling water. She placed the teapot along with a bright red mug on a tray and carried them into the living room. Odie and Clovis followed.

  As soon as she settled herself on the sofa with her tea and favorite author, the telephone rang.

  “Why did I know this would happen the minute I got comfortable?” Melanie asked her boon companions. As usual, Odie and Clovis answered her question by trailing behind her as she returned to the kitchen to answer the telephone.

  “Hello,” she said into the receiver.

  “Oh good, you’re there,” Stephanie said.

  Melanie smiled upon hearing her friend’s voice. “What’s up?”

  “I wasn’t sure I’d find you at home,” Stephanie explained.

  Melanie leaned against the island in the center of the kitchen. “Where else would I be?” She looked at the clock and realized she was usually in church at this time. Because of bad weather, Melanie had decided to stay home today. She said this to Stephanie.

  “Same here. Patrick and I both took the weekend off. We wanted to take the girls skiing again, but it’s really too cold. You’re never going to believe who’s coming to visit this afternoon.”

  “Why don’t you tell me?” Melanie teased.

  “Grace and Max are bringing baby Ella. The girls are so excited.”

  “Cool,” Melanie said without much emotion. She’d just seen Grace, Max, and Ella a couple of weeks ago.

  “Bryce is coming with them. Apparently, he’s taking a month off from teaching, and he’s planning to spend his time helping Grace and Max at Hope House,” Stephanie said.

  Melanie knew where this was leading. She had met Bryce, Grace’s younger brother, a few times. He was a professor of history at the University of Colorado in Boulder. He was a couple of years older than she, and very easy on the eyes. With his raven black hair, and sea green eyes identical to his older sister’s, Bryce Landry personified hunkiness if there was such a thing. If she’d met him without knowing his academic background, never in a million years would she have pegged him for a history professor. He looked more like the ski bums that hung out at the ski resorts. Melanie knew he was an avid skier; he’d been a big fan of Max’s when he won the Olympic gold medal. Grace told Melanie how excited Bryce had been when he discovered his older sister was dating such a legend in the ski world.

  “That’s nice,” was the only comment Melanie could come up with. She must sound like an idiot, she thought, as she eyed her pot of tea in the living room.

  “I’m having an impromptu Christmas party this afternoon. Do you think you can make it? I know it’s short notice,” Stephanie added.

  Melanie didn’t really have any plans other than reading and getting ready for tomorrow’s flight to Denver. Why not? Stephanie lived right down the road from her; it wasn’t like she had to travel on I-70, which was treacherous during the winter months. It would take her mind off the adoption and help pass the time.

  “Sounds like fun. What can I bring?” Melanie asked, looking around the kitchen for something to bring, a store-bought pie, anything that didn’t require cooking or baking. Seeing nothing, she remembered she had a frozen black forest cake in the freezer, courtesy of a happy client.

  “You don’t have to bring anything, just yourself,” Stephanie assured her.

  Melanie would bring the cake anyway; she could not eat the entire chocolate concoction herself. It would take hours of skiing to burn off the calories. “I’d love to see the girls. What time are the festivities?”

  “Any time after noon,” Stephanie said. “The girls are bursting with energy at the mere thought of a Christmas party,” Stephanie continued. “We’ve never hosted a Christmas party, so I figured the earlier, the better. Amanda is already mixing the ingredients for sugar cookies. If the kitchen’s a disaster when you get here, you’ll know why.”

  Just thinking of the visual, Melanie grinned. Stephanie was very neat and tidy, yet when it came to Amanda and Ashley, she was more than willing to allow whatever made them happy. Both girls loved to tinker in the kitchen, just like their mother. In time, they would learn how to clean up as they worked.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a few,” Melanie said, and hung up the phone. She gazed longingly at her now-cooled pot of tea and the new book she’d been dying to sink her teeth into. There was always another day to do nothing but lounge around and read.

  But maybe not, she thought as she scooped up the tray carefully and placed the treasured old teapot and her mug in the sink.

  If she were lucky, soon she’d be too busy to lounge around. Hopefully, by this time next year, she’d have a family of her own to take care of.

  She crossed her fingers and said a quick prayer.

  A child of her own. Could life get any better? she thought as she raced through the condo like a kid at Christmas.

  Chapter 5

  Cars and four-wheel-drive vehicles were filling the driveway as Melanie parked her Navigator on the street at the edge of the snow-and-ice-covered lawn. Balancing a plastic-covered cake container in one hand and her purse and car keys in the other, she lifted an Ugg-booted foot to close the car door.

  The small sidewalk leading to the front porch steps had been cleared of all snow and ice, courtesy of Patrick. Before Melanie had a chance to figure out how to press the doorbell, Ashley opened the front door.

  “Auntie M, you came! Ella is here and so are her mom and dad,” she said excitedly, as Melanie stepped inside the warm, festively decorated house.

  Melanie laid her purse on an antique bench, careful to keep a tight grip on the cake container. She stooped down to Ashley’s eye level and gave her a one-armed hug. “Of course I did. I wouldn’t miss your Christmas party for all the money in the world,” Melanie said. Ashley grabbed her free hand and led her to the kitchen, where Stephanie was standing in front of the sink.

  “Look, Mom, Auntie M brought a cake.”

  Stephanie rinsed her hands off, and dried them with a paper towel. She took the cake container out of Melanie’s hands and placed it on the counter next to three other cakes.

  “Should’ve kept it, huh?” Melanie said as she spied the desserts.

  Stephanie leaned in for a quick hug, then stood back, grinning at her friend. “Nah, Patrick’s here. He’ll take care of whatever leftovers we have,” Stephanie assured her. “Bryce has been asking about you.”

  Blushing, Melanie shook her head. “He’s just being polite, Steph.” She wished everyone would stop trying to throw her and Bryce in one another’s path. She’d met him more than once, and, yes, he was attractive, and, yes, she liked him, but she had a feeling Bryce wasn’t into the “healthy, outdoor type” such as her. No, he probably preferred tall, skinny blondes with little or no brains. He was just too good-looking, she kept thinking. Men like him didn’t date women with brains. She looked at her faded jeans and snow-covered Uggs. Definitely a Colorado kind of girl. It didn’t matter that
she wore a Stella McCartney sweater, or that her blond hair was really her blond hair. Guys like Bryce went for the glamour girls.

  “Melanie, how are you? It’s been too long,” Bryce Landry said as he entered the kitchen.

  Melanie’s heart did a double beat when she felt him come up behind her. She took a deep breath. She could actually smell him. He smelled like winter. Pine and something else she couldn’t identify. She felt her face turning ten shades of red. Thankful he couldn’t read her mind, she turned to face him, and said, “Thanks, it’s nice to see you, too, Bryce. You’re right, it’s been too long.” She cringed at her words. What if he thought she’d been fantasizing about him?

  Melanie couldn’t help but admire Bryce’s good looks. He certainly wore them well, she’d give him that. Dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and black jeans, his ebony hair hanging over his ears and down the back of his neck, he was extremely sexy, certainly not the look of a history professor, or at least any that she’d had in college. He stepped away from her as though he just realized he’d been standing in her personal space a bit too long. He had both hands out in front of him, fingertips upward, palms splayed up and out, as though he were trying to physically push himself away from her.

  Melanie felt his gaze. She glanced at him before turning back to Stephanie. She could still feel his eyes boring a hole into her back. Without thinking, she whirled around and turned to face him.

  “Is there something else?” The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

  Bryce smiled at her. “Yes, actually there is. I want a piece of that cake you brought. I didn’t know you were a baker. Thought it might be nice to sample the wares.”

  Melanie felt sucker punched, right in the middle of her stomach. Was he implying what she thought he was implying?

  Sample the wares . . .

  Apparently he caught his faux pas. He nodded at the row of cake dishes on the countertop. “There are four cakes to choose from. I wanted to try yours first.”