A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(52)

       To Beth Broday and Joel Gotler, who inspired the story

   And to their beautiful daughter,

   Liberty Lee





BALLANTINE BOOKS FROM DEBBIE MACOMBER


Window on the Bay

Cottage by the Sea Any Dream Will Do

If Not for You

A Girl’s Guide to Moving On Last One Home





ROSE HARBOR INN


Sweet Tomorrows

Silver Linings

Love Letters

Rose Harbor in Bloom The Inn at Rose Harbor





BLOSSOM STREET


Blossom Street Brides Starting Now





CHRISTMAS NOVELS


A Mrs. Miracle Christmas Alaskan Holiday

Merry and Bright

Twelve Days of Christmas Dashing Through the Snow Mr. Miracle

Starry Night

Angels at the Table





ABOUT THE AUTHOR


DEBBIE MACOMBER, the author of Window on the Bay, Cottage by the Sea, Any Dream Will Do, If Not for You, and the Rose Harbor Inn series, is a leading voice in women’s fiction. Thirteen of her novels have reached #1 on the New York Times bestseller list, and five of her beloved Christmas novels have been hit movies on the Hallmark Channel, including Mrs. Miracle and Mr. Miracle. Hallmark Channel also produced the original series Debbie Macomber’s Cedar Cove, based on Macomber’s Cedar Cove books. She is also the author of the cookbook Debbie Macomber’s Table. There are more than 200 million copies of her books in print worldwide.

debbiemacomber.com

Facebook.com/?debbiemacomberworld

Twitter: @debbiemacomber

Instagram: @debbiemacomber

Pinterest.com/?macomberbooks





Debbie Macomber brings us to the Alaskan wilderness


   for a magical Christmas tale about finding love


   where it’s least expected.


   Alaskan Holiday


   A beautiful holiday story about the far journeys


   we travel to find a place to call home.


   Continue reading for a preview.





CHAPTER ONE





Palmer


“Are you gonna propose to Josie or not?” Alicia demanded.

I closed my eyes. It felt as if my heart was doing cartwheels inside my tightening chest.

“Palmer, did you hear me?”

“I heard you just fine.” I knew it was a mistake to call my sister. Alicia wasn’t one to hold back on sharing her opinion. She knew how I felt about Josie, and as my big sister, she was determined that I not let Josie leave town without letting her know how I felt about her.

“Then answer the question. Are you going to tell Josie you’re in love with her?”

My sister and I had been raised in Alaska in a tiny town above the Arctic Circle. We were homeschooled, so I didn’t have a lot of the exposure and experiences most kids get for social interaction. I wouldn’t give it up for anything, though, except for my lack of certain skills. Alicia made it sound easy to lay one’s heart out on the chopping block with the big chance of it getting axed.

    The problem is, I’ve never been anything even close to what one would consider romantic. I leave that to those city boys. I am a man, an Alaskan man; fancy, romantic words are as unfamiliar to me as a pumpkin-spice latte. I’ll admit, when it comes to sweeping a woman off her feet, I’m about as dense as a guy can get, and I’ll certainly never be the kind of man who recites poetry. Living up here in the Alaskan wilderness doesn’t help. Ponder is miles from what most people would consider civilization. Northeast of Fairbanks and close to the Far North region of Alaska, Ponder has a population that swells to three hundred in season, when the lodge is in operation. In the wintertime, these numbers drop to a few hearty men and women, and only a handful of families.

Alicia reminded me that it was now or never. I could do without the clichés, especially when my gut was in knots. Even the thought of telling Josie that I loved her and wanted her to stay in Ponder had me breaking into a cold sweat. This felt worse than the case of flu I had last year.

Although the fishing and hunting lodge brought in a fair amount of traffic in-season, single women were few and far between here in Ponder. The only women I’d happened to meet in the last several years were those employed by the lodge, or those I met on my infrequent trips into Fairbanks. Most of the lodge employees were college students and so flighty and immature that I didn’t pay any attention to them.

    All that changed when Josie Avery arrived.

She was in her mid-twenties and had been hired on at the lodge as the chef for the season, which ran from May through the end of October. The minute I saw her, I knew she was different. The first thing I noticed was that her phone didn’t come attached to her hand. The next time I saw her, she was reading a book. She stopped me cold when she happened to glance up and smile at me. Her eyes brightened, and I swear I could have drowned in her warmth. The sunlight had broken through the trees and landed on her like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Her hair was long and dark and flowed over her shoulders. She wore jeans and boots. I hardly know how to explain what happened in that very moment. I know it sounds nuts, but I felt something physical, like someone had hit me. The impact was so hard and strong that I stumbled back a step.