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Amanda Wright hummed the tune of “Let It Snow” under her breath as she stamped her feet in an effort to get warm.
The short red Mrs. Santa costume she wore with the white faux fur around the bottom, the neckline and at the cuffs looked cute but did little to provide any real warmth. Wearing flesh-colored tights was almost like being bare-legged, and the short black leather boots on her feet were fashion-forward, but definitely not keeping her toes warm.
She could always step into the small wooden booth’s tiny back room, where an oil heater spewed out a bit of warmth, but it was almost time for her to pack it in for the day and she didn’t want to miss her last chance to help make a difference.
Darkness had fallen an hour before, and yet the streets of Bitterroot were aglow with the merry lights of the Christmas season. Illuminated red-and-white candy canes hung from every light pole and shoppers still scurried along the sidewalks, trying to get in last-minute supplies before a predicted big snowstorm struck.
Mandy loved this time of year, when the air smelled of evergreen wreaths and cinnamon sticks, and Christmas carols spilled out of every store doorway. Even though the holiday was still a little over two weeks away, Bitterroot was already in the spirit.
She smiled as she saw Butch Cooper approaching the booth. She had dated Butch for about a month and had only recently broken up with him. Thankfully, despite the breakup they had remained good friends.
“Buy a kiss for a dollar,” she said. “All proceeds go to the youth program.”
Butch pulled his wallet out of his pocket and withdrew a five-dollar bill. “I’ll just donate this to the cause,” he said and handed her the money.
“Thanks, Butch,” she replied. He was such a nice guy, but it hadn’t taken her long to realize he wasn’t the Prince Charming she was waiting for. Although she’d enjoyed his company, there just hadn’t been any real romantic spark with him. “How are you doing?”
“I’m getting by. What about you?”
“The same. I’m keeping busy between the café and this booth,” she replied.
“You’d better think about getting yourself home soon,” he said. “There’s freezing rain moving in and then it’s supposed to snow like the devil.”
“I’m planning on packing it up in just a little while. I’m hoping to make a little more money before I close down for the night.”
“Just don’t wait too long. You know Seth wouldn’t want you to put yourself at risk for a couple more dollars.”
“I know. Thanks, Butch.” She watched as the tall, nice-looking cowboy walked away. She released a deep sigh, her breath coming out in a big, frosty puff.
The old saying was that you had to kiss a lot of toads before finally finding a prince. She’d dated most of the single men in town but had yet to find that special toad.
When Seth Richardson had asked her to donate her spare time in a kissing booth for charity, she’d instantly agreed. She knew how important the youth program was in town. She only wished there had been some kind of a youth program when she’d been growing up.
For the past couple of days, when she wasn’t working as a waitress at the café, she’d been in this booth. There were two other young women who worked the booth, as well. At least the red-and-white-painted booth was located between the feed store and the mercantile, which meant it got a fair amount of foot traffic.
She stamped her feet once again and mentally cursed the cold. Yes, she loved this time of year and she especially loved to watch it snow, but at the moment, with her fingers and toes half-frozen, she wished it was seventy degrees.
Thoughts of the cold faded away as she saw another handsome cowboy approaching her. The Christmas lights on the buildings flickered and highlighted his strong, bold features in shades of green and red. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders, and wore his black cowboy hat pulled down as if to warn people away.
Brody Booth.
Just seeing him warmed her a little bit even though they’d scarcely ever exchanged more than a handful of words. He was definitely one sexy cowboy.
“Hey, Brody. How about a kiss for a dollar?” she called out to him. “It’s for charity.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “No, thanks, Mandy. I kind of like being the only man in town you haven’t kissed.” He turned and continued on his way.
She stared after him in stunned surprise. “You’re a jerk, Brody Booth,” she called.
His words stung with their implication. She knew her reputation in town was for being fast and loose, a reputation that had begun in high school and had haunted her ever since. Of course, she hadn’t helped matters by kissing so many toads.
Brody was one of the best-looking jerks she’d ever seen, but she told herself now that she didn’t give two hoots about what he thought of her.
What she’d better start thinking about was getting home. The ping of sleet against the wooden booth was a definite warning that it was time to get out of Dodge.
She closed the awning, stepped into the back space and turned off the heater and the battery-operated light that cast a dim glow. Her coat hung on a small hook next to the back door, and she quickly pulled it on. Then she shoved the small metal money box into her purse, locked up for the night and left the booth.
The sleet stung her face as she hurried to her car. The icy mixture was piling up fast. She probably should have left half an hour before.
The scent of snow whirled on the wind that had picked up, and she was suddenly aware that the streets were virtually deserted.
She hurried to her car and got inside, rubbing her hands together as she waited for the heater to blow hot air. Ice already glazed her windshield, making it impossible for her to see out and drive. Hopefully, between the wipers and the defrost, she could get it cleared off as soon as possible.
Still, by the time she finally crept out of her parking space, the sleet had turned to snow. It wasn’t a fluffy, pretty event. Rather, the snowflakes were small and icy and wind-driven.
Visibility was almost nonexistent and the back tires slid each time she tried to accelerate. She was going to be far later getting home than she’d told her father.
Although she lived in a small apartment above the detached garage on the property, when she could she cooked and cleaned for her father.
Of course, he had probably prepared for the snowstorm by buying plenty of liquor. If she was lucky he’d already be passed out by the time she got home. At least she’d thought ahead and had brought home a meatloaf dinner from the café. It sat on the passenger seat in a foam container inside a white bag. When she did get home, if her dad was waiting for her she could have his dinner ready in mere microwave magic minutes.
At the moment his meal wasn’t her concern. Just
