Holiday Magic. Fern Michaels
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him, had been friends since they were in their early twenties. While Max was busying making Olympic history, Patrick had immersed himself in college at the University of Colorado, where he’d also received his master’s degree in political science, thinking someday he would change the world. Like all young men, he’d had an idealistic view of the world’s potential for change, and felt it was up to him to contribute to that change. So after he’d graduated, he went to work for the State Senate. Eight years of dirty politics destroyed his idealistic vision of making a difference. He’d had his fill of self-interested liars, cheaters, and backstabbers who had anything but the interests of their constituents at heart. Leaving a successful career, Patrick spent that first winter out of politics doing absolutely nothing except hitting the slopes. He reconnected with Max. They’d bummed around for a while, then Max married Kayla and hired him to run the resort. For two years after Kayla’s tragic death, his good friend had sat on the sidelines, but now he was happily married to Grace, who Patrick thought was the best of the best. A good egg.
Coming from a large Irish family, with four older brothers and three younger sisters, had made him extra protective of women but guarded, too. He knew what little sneaks they were most of the time. Growing up, he’d been the best big brother he knew how to be. Which in his family meant he’d been to six proms, three of them with his youngest sister, Claire, who’d explained she simply needed him to act as her date because the guys in high school were just “totally immature.” Which was a crock of crap. Claire had been trying to hook him up with her best friend Lisa Grimes since the first time Claire brought her home to meet the family her freshman year of high school. Patrick was flattered, but she was too young, and she was like a kid sister to him.
Then there was Megan, a year older than Claire. Megan was the family dreamer. She sailed through school without any problems but didn’t have much of a social life. Patrick worried about her and told her so. Shocked that he’d felt that way, she revealed that she’d been dating a college man since her sophomore year. When he’d asked why she hadn’t brought him home, Megan had clammed up. After much screaming and many threats, Megan had finally told Patrick why she hadn’t brought her boyfriend home to meet the rest of the brood. He was married. Patrick wanted to find the son of a bitch and kick his butt, but Megan refused to reveal his name. She’d made Patrick swear he wouldn’t tell their parents. He’d reluctantly agreed. Megan reminded him that she didn’t pry into his love life, and he should grant her the same respect. She’d had him on that one, but he’d always kept an extra close eye on her.
Three years after Megan graduated from high school, her married lover divorced his wife and made an honest woman out of her. Patrick didn’t care much for the guy, now a high school math teacher. He treated his sister and their three boys, Joseph, eight, Ryan, six, and Eric, who’d just celebrated his fourth birthday, extremely well. As long as Nathan continued to do so, Patrick would accept him as his brother-in-law, though not without reservations. Patrick took Megan aside once and told her if Nathan cheated on his first wife, the odds were good he’d cheat on her. They’d been married for twelve years. As far as Patrick knew, Nathan hadn’t strayed.
Finally, there was Colleen, only a year younger than Patrick. Married to her high school sweetheart as soon as she’d graduated high school, she didn’t bother with college. She’d always made it very clear to the entire family that becoming a mother was her life’s desire. And she had. Almost one year to the day after she’d married Mark Cunningham, she delivered a healthy baby girl, Shannon Margaret. Eighteen months later, Abigail Caitlin came along. Colleen couldn’t have been happier. Mark had accepted a job with Apple, and they had moved to Seattle. Their life together had been almost perfect until Shannon Margaret became ill. At seventeen, Shannon was in her senior year of high school doing all the exciting things seniors do. Mark and Colleen planned to surprise her with a bright red Hummer as a graduation gift. Shannon had been as much in love with Hummers as he was. A week before graduation, Shannon had complained about being extremely tired and short of breath. Colleen had laughed, telling Shannon her endless pre-graduation activities would wear out a triathlete. Shannon continued to complain over the next few days, but no one really paid much attention. Three nights before Shannon was due to graduate, Colleen found her in a heap on the bathroom floor, almost comatose. She’d called 911, and they’d rushed her to the hospital, where doctors were mystified until the results of her blood work came back from the lab. Shannon suffered from a rare and oftentimes deadly blood disorder, Thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura. The doctors shortened it to TTP. Her platelet count had dropped to eight thousand, and her red blood count was so low, they’d had to give her red blood cells intravenously. A hematologist was called in. He’d explained to Colleen and Mark exactly what was happening inside Shannon’s body. Something had gone wrong with her blood’s ability to clot. Patrick was so shocked when he heard she was in the ICU, he didn’t really remember the details. Suffice it to say, Shannon died on the very day she should have graduated from high school.
Patrick went through hell for several months, but it was nothing compared to what Colleen, Mark, and Abigail were still going through. No way could he ever withstand that kind of personal loss, hence his desire to stay single and kid-free. He knuckled away an unshed tear and parked the Hummer in his assigned parking place. He slid out of the driver’s seat into the bitter early-morning air and jammed his hands in his pockets. His heavy boots crunched against the slush and ice as he walked across the parking lot to the employee entrance of Snow Zone. Damn it’s cold!
Heavy snow was in the forecast for the weekend. He smiled. Fresh white powder would have skiers waiting in the lift lines for hours. The resort would be especially jam-packed that night as well. It was the night for the Christmas tree-lighting extravaganza. Patrick usually got a big kick out of it, but this year his heart wasn’t really into the holiday spirit. His thoughts always returned to Colleen and Shannon. This would be the second year without her.
His parents had retired to Florida after Shannon’s death. Claire remained in California, unmarried, a workaholic. She had a successful law firm that took up her every waking moment. She’d flown in for Shannon’s memorial service and left immediately after. The rest of the family living in Colorado had gathered at the oldest sibling’s house. Last Christmas, his four brothers, Connor, Aidan, Ronan, and Michael, all of whom had married only within the last ten years, and their wives and kids had made a half-hearted attempt at a celebration, for the sake of the kids, but none of their hearts were into the holidays either. Since they were an extremely close-knit Irish family, Shannon’s loss had devastated them all. Shannon had been the first grandchild, the first niece. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Patrick pushed all thoughts of sadness aside. There would be time for those memories later. Before opening the employee door, he scraped the ice and brown slush from his boots on the boot scraper beside the door. He could have gone in through the store’s public entrance; he had keys and knew the security code, but he wanted to make a surprise visit. It was his way of checking up on his employees. They never knew when to expect him, kept them on their toes. Max didn’t approve of this tactic but allowed it since Patrick ran the entire operation. He’d already spied dozens of early birds waiting patiently in their heated vehicles in the parking lot. Patrick hoped Candy Lee and Stephanie were prepared for the rush.
Entering through the back door, he was greeted by the pleasing scent of coffee and a hint of cinnamon. Before Stephanie or Candy Lee saw him, he made his way up and down the aisles, inspecting the shelves piled high with sweaters, hats, scarves, and a dozen other varieties of clothing that promised to keep their wearers warm. Personally, he never hit the slopes without wearing his Hot Chillys, long johns that truly stood up to the test. He saw that the Hot Chillys display was stocked in all colors and sizes for men, women, and children. Satisfied that there was enough stock to keep the shoppers shopping, Patrick weaved his way through the narrow aisles to the front of the shop. Stephanie and Candy Lee were both sipping from forest green mugs and munching on donuts. Damn, what did they think this was? Snack time? They should be…working, not smiling and eating.
C’mon, Patrick, they have to eat!
He shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts of any negativity. Today called for a positive attitude. Optimism, his mother always advised, when faced with negativity. Growing up, she’d taught him and his brothers and sisters that they