Oklahoma Christmas Blues Read online



  Copyright 2015 by Margaret S. Lewis

  https://www.MaggieShayne.com

  Cover art and formatting by Jessica Lewis

  https://authorslifesaver.com

  Editing by Jena O’Connor

  https://practicalproofing.com

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They arc not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Oklahoma Moonshine

  Oklahoma Starshine

  Also Available

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  The Long Branch Saloon didn’t open for another hour, but how could anyone resist Santa Claus peering through the window, tapping on the glass?

  Sophia wiped her hands on a bar towel and went to let him in, and he beamed a smile at her. His dimples were very real, and so, she thought, was his snowy white beard. “Chilly out there today,” he said. “I brought my lunch, but I’m craving a hot cocoa to go with it.”

  “Hot cocoa it is.”

  “I’ll take it to go,” he said, looking around. “You’re not open yet, are you?”

  
“Not quite. I’m just getting familiar with the layout. My first day on the job and all.”

  “Ah, and here I thought I recognized you. You’re new in town?”

  “Sure am,” she said. “I grew up in a small town a lot like this one, though.” At seventeen, she’d thought she couldn’t shake the dust of her hometown off her boots fast enough. At twenty-nine and counting (loudly, inside her head), she’d come running to Big Falls, Oklahoma like her tail was on fire. Her dream life had crumbled. This small town was the only place where she had family these days. Coming here had been a knee-jerk reaction, an impulse. Whether it had been a good one remained to be seen.

  “Sophia McIntyre,” she said, extending a hand. Santa pulled off his thin white gloves and clasped her hand in his. It was warm and strong. “You just find a comfortable stool, Santa. You can eat your lunch right here where it’s warm. I’ll get that cocoa.”

  She went behind the bar and took down one of the heavy stoneware mugs. “Marshmallows?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Smiling, Sophia mixed and stirred and dropped some marshmallows on top, then set the mug full of chocolate in front of her first customer. Santa pressed his palms to the mug and, closing his eyes, inhaled the steam. “Mmm. Simple pleasures.”

  She couldn’t reply, not having had many of those lately.

  “Are you a bartender by trade, Sophie?”

  
“Sophia,” she corrected. “Time will tell, I guess.” He frowned at her, but waited for more, and she found herself talking though she didn’t know why. “I worked my way through college and med school slinging drinks. It’s like riding a bike. You never forget.”

  “So you’re a doctor then? My, my. Small-town girl makes good.” She didn’t reply, but he went on. “What brings you to Big Falls?”

  She shrugged. “I have family here. I don’t know, it seemed like the best place to be while waiting to hear whether my license will be pulled for the creative way my ex-fiancé was using my prescription pad.”

  “Oh dear.” He reached across the bar to pat her hand. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sophie.”

  She glanced up at him, shook her head. “Maybe it’s not like riding a bike. I think you’re supposed to be telling me your problems, aren’t you, Santa?”

  
“Oh, I don’t have problems. There are no such things, you know.”

  “No such things as problems?” She lifted her head, met his impossibly blue eyes.

  “Absolutely not. Nothing happens to you. Everything happens for you. That’s what I always say. Everything that comes along is designed to help you get where you’re supposed to be. If you ask me, you’re supposed to be right here. You didn’t know it, so life gave you a little nudge.”

  He sipped his cocoa, his elbow on the bar. She’d seen him from a distance yesterday, when she’d first arrived. She’d been driving her Subaru real slow through downtown Big Falls. He’d been in the park that Main Street encircled, holding court in the pavilion on a red velvet throne. Now that he was up close, her memory tried to tell her he was the same Santa who’d been in her own small town when she’d been a little girl. For just a second, she was eight years old again, sitting on his knee, looking up at him with wonder in her eyes.

  But that wasn’t very likely, was it? No. Not even possible, really.

  “Maybe, Sophie, everything you really want is right here in Big Falls, waiting for you. Maybe you don’t belong in New York City after all.”

  “It’s Sophia,” she corrected again. Sophia was successful, respected and wealthy. Sophie was just a country girl with big dreams. And then she said, “You really believe that? A fiancé who’s dealing drugs on the side? A criminal investigation and my medical license in jeopardy? All that’s happening for me?”

  He shrugged, sipped, studied her. “What if it was?”

  She frowned, starting to think this Santa Claus was, perhaps, suffering from the onset of dementia. Poor thing.

  “No, no, hear me out now,” he said, just as if he’d heard her thoughts. “Santa knows these things. What if all those recent events happened because your true calling, your true happiness, the life of your dreams, is right here in Big Falls?”

  She frowned, tilting her head to one side and looking into his eyes. “I wish that was true.”

  “Don’t wish it.” He leaned back a little, sipped his cocoa and put his mug down. There was chocolate decorating the edges of his whiskers. “I think for right now you ought to try hoping it. Just hope, even if only for the next few days, that everything in your life is happening exactly the way it’s supposed to. You might be surprised.” He smiled, and chugged the rest of his cocoa. “Gotta run, Sophie. Children are waiting.” Then he slid off his stool and reached into the pocket of his red velvet coat.

  Sophia held up her hands. “No. Your money’s no good here, Santa.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled at her and something flashed in his eyes, a full blown twinkle so unexpected she took a step backwards in shock. “Believe the way you believed when you were a little girl, and watch the magic happen. Lots of magic around, especially this time of year.” Then he winked, turned and walked away.

  Sophie—Sophia—stared at the batwing doors long after he’d gone through them. She didn’t quite know what to make of the Santa who maybe believed a little too much. And yet she couldn’t get what he’d said out of her mind.

  What if her life hadn’t just disintegrated by chance, or bad luck, or because fate had it in for her? What if there was a reason? And how the heck did he know she was from New York?

  Small town grapevine. Had to be.

  Her three cousins, the hunks she referred to as the McIntyre men, showed up to open the Long Branch for the evening, and she fell i
nto the rhythm of pouring, stirring, blending. She used to be very good at this job, and in no time, it was all coming back to her. She could flip a bottle in the air, spin around, catch it and pour it, all in one move. She started having fun. People were fond of her uncle Bobby Joe, who’d built this saloon, and the family he’d married into, the Brands. He and his wife since last Christmas, Vidalia, came in to watch her work and made a big fuss about how good she was at the job. They’d insisted she stay in their guest room while she was in town. They made her feel welcome. Wanted. They acted like hosting her for the holidays was a gift to them.

  A warm feeling started to settle over her. A comfortable feeling. A feeling of…home. She hadn’t had that feeling since she’d left her own small town all those years ago, after her mom had died. She hadn’t even known how much she’d missed that feeling of home, of family.

  Maybe that crazy old Santa had a point. Maybe she needed to keep an open mind.