CHAPTER ONE
“What about this one?” Mia held a watercolor canvas against the wall.
Claire shook her head. “It doesn’t look right. You need something more vibrant beside the other paintings.” She walked across to the table in the middle of the room. “Here. Try this one.”
Mia swapped the canvases over. “Tell me quickly if it works. This one’s heavy.” After choosing where more than thirty paintings would be hung for their exhibition, her arms were aching. “Is it okay?”
“It’s perfect.”
“Thank goodness for that.” Mia carefully placed the oil painting on the floor, leaning the top edge against the wall. She looked around her grandfather’s art gallery and smiled. “This will be our biggest exhibition yet.”
Claire picked up her clipboard and frowned. “Everyone from the Bozeman Art Collective has dropped off their work except Elizabeth. I hope she’s okay.”
“I’ll give her a call.” Mia rolled her shoulders, trying to relax her sore muscles. At five-foot-three she wasn’t tall by anyone’s standard. Holding the paintings while they decided where to hang them wouldn’t have been difficult if she’d been Claire’s height.
The side door to the exhibition space opened and Claire’s sister, Hannah, walked inside. “Wow. You’ve done so much.”
“Granddad has organized his usual team to hang the paintings this afternoon. All we had to do was decide where they would go.” Mia tilted her head. “You look worried. What’s happened?”
Hannah dropped her bag on a chair. “Do you remember when I told you about the Jenkins’ wedding?”
“The one that would be Montana’s wedding of the year?”
“That’s the one.”
Claire’s mouth dropped open. “Did we get the contract to stage their reception?”
“Not exactly.”
For someone who had been talking nonstop about the wedding, Hannah didn’t seem very excited.
“What did they say?” Claire asked.
Hannah crossed her arms. “Mrs. Jenkins wants us to organize the whole wedding.”
“Everything? But we’re not wedding planners.”
“I know. But Mrs. Jenkins and her daughter saw what we did for the Trembaths’ wedding. They want something similar, only bigger.”
Claire frowned. “But the Trembaths only had fifty guests. At last count, Beverly and Craig’s guest list was up to 258.”
“I tried telling Mrs. Jenkins that this would be the first wedding we’d ever managed, but she wasn’t worried.”
Mia watched the two sisters digest what an event of that size would mean. As well as being talented artists, Claire and Hannah ran their own event staging company. It had taken a lot of hard work, long hours, and a folder of glowing referrals to get them to where they were today.
Claire bit her bottom lip. “The Jenkins family own one of the largest ranches in Montana. There will be people coming from across America for Beverly’s wedding. We can’t say no.”
Hannah opened her laptop. “I’ve looked at our schedule. We already have a lot of pre-Christmas events to stage. And we know what Mrs. Jenkins and her daughter are like from the engagement party. They might say they want something similar to the Trembaths, but they’re just as likely to change their minds.”
Mia was so glad that all she had to worry about was the art exhibition. “I don’t mean to state the obvious, but why don’t you ask someone to help you?”
“We won’t be able to find anyone on such short notice, especially this close to Christmas,” Claire said with a sigh. “The part-time staff we hired aren’t ready for the responsibility of organizing a huge wedding.”
“Not the wedding,” Mia said. “The other events you’re staging. If the Jenkins’ contract attracts more clients, maybe you should concentrate on their wedding.”
Claire looked at her sister. “Mia’s right. We need to prioritize.”
Nick Costas, Mia’s grandfather, walked into the exhibition space. “How are my girls doing?” His eyebrows rose. “It cannot be as bad as that.”
Mia handed her grandfather a brown paper bag. “This is from Tess. She made huckleberry muffins this morning.”
Nick’s smile was instant. “She is a woman after my own heart.”
Her grandfather’s thick, Greek accent made Mia chuckle. “You’re nearly seventy-five years old, granddad. Tess is married and too young for you.”
“I am young at heart. Now, Claire. Tell me what is worrying you. It is not like you and Hannah to be sad.”
“We’ve been asked to plan a huge wedding, but we can’t fit it into our schedule.”
“Show me this schedule.” Nick perched his reading glasses on the end of his nose and peered at the computer screen.
Claire stood beside her sister. “Most of the work has already been done for the local high school and mall contracts. I could still do the corporate Christmas party.”
“And these?” Nick pointed to something on the screen.
“They’re our regular events,” Hannah said. “Our part-time staff could look after them.”
Mia moved closer. Even though she knew Claire and Hannah were busy, she was surprised at the number of events they were juggling.
“This is the one that worries me the most.” Hannah tapped her finger against the screen.
Nick leaned closer. “A charity gala for the hospital?”
“They booked us six months ago. We can’t let them down.”
“What does this charity gala involve?”
Hannah opened another file. “It will be a Christmas-themed event. There’ll be a buffet dinner and dancing. As soon as the hospital director approves the concept plans and budget we’ll start booking what we need.”
Mia studied the photos on Hannah’s laptop. It looked like your typical North Pole Christmas scene, complete with snowmen, candy canes, and Santa’s reindeer.
Nick pursed his lips. “I have an idea. Mia can work on the hospital gala for you.”
Mia shook her head. “I’ve never done anything like that in my life, granddad. It would be a disaster.”
“Your friends need help.”
“It’s okay,” Claire said. “You don’t have to help us. You’re busy teaching, and your next exhibition isn’t far away. We’ll tell Mrs. Jenkins that we can’t organize her daughter’s wedding.”
Mia pulled out a stool and sat down. “When are Beverly and Craig getting married?”
“The second Saturday in January. They didn’t want a long engagement and that was the only date the caterer could manage.” Hannah closed the Jenkins’ file. “Organizing a wedding of that size in four months would be difficult for any company.”
Mia glanced at her granddad. Big mistake. His pale blue eyes bored into her soul, making her feel guilty for not saying yes straight away. “You know how busy I am.”
“You are a good girl, Mia. You will do the right thing.”
She sighed, wondering how on earth she could say no to her granddad and two of her closest friends. “I’ll let you know tomorrow morning if I can help.”
Claire and Hannah’s relieved smiles made her feel worse.
Nick patted her hand. “Your pappouli has complete faith in you.”
And those words, thought Mia, would ultimately seal her fate.
***
Stan Lewis bent his head. He didn’t need to read the words on his wife’s headstone to trigger the wave of grief rolling through him.
Over the last nine years, he’d visited Sandra’s grave more times than he could remember. He knew the names of the people buried around her. He’d even met most of their relatives.
“Happy birthday, mom.” Annabelle, his eleven-year-old daughter, walked toward Sandra’s grave. With infinite care, she placed six pink roses on each side of the headstone.
Her small hand brushed across the silver letters. Stan swallowed, knowing it was her only physical connection to the woman who had loved her for two short years.
When she walked back to him, he wrapped his arm around her thin shoulders.
“Do you think mom’s happy in heaven?”
Tears filled his eyes. “I hope she’s very happy. Did you know that she loved celebrating birthdays? One year, she put so many candles on Grandma Jemma’s birthday cake that it exploded into flames.”
Annabelle’s eyes shot open. “Really? What happened next?”
“Grandpa Joe was going to use the fire extinguisher to put out the flames. But your mom had spent hours making the cake and she didn’t want it ruined. Before Grandpa Joe got back, she dropped a saucepan lid over the flames.”
“Did you eat the cake?”
Stan smiled. “We did. Your mom scraped off the frosting and cut it into big slices. It still tasted great.” A cold wind made him shiver. “We should go home soon.”
“Before we go, can you tell me about the day you met mom?”
Stan had told Annabelle that story so many times she must have known it by heart. “Okay, but you need to wear your jacket.”
She took her red padded jacket out of his hands. With an impish grin, she rolled up the zipper to her chin. “Better?”
“Much better.” He stood behind her and draped his hands over her shoulders. “Let’s see…where should I begin?”
“At the dance,” she said softly. “Tell me what mom was wearing when you first saw her.”
He kissed the top of Annabelle’s head. With his eyes closed, he remembered the tall redhead who had taken his breath away. For thirteen years they’d been inseparable, until one day, she left him forever.
He wiped his eyes and described Sandra’s blue dress, the one she’d borrowed from her cousin.
Annabelle sighed and leaned against him, sharing with him a long-ago memory.
Fall leaves tumbled to the ground, the wind whispered through the trees, and another year passed without the woman who made him complete.
***
A light tap on Stan’s office door didn’t stop him from typing. He needed to finish the report he was writing by the end of the day. Nothing, barring a bomb threat or an outbreak of the plague, would stop him.
“How can I help, Gina?”
“Sorry to interrupt, but have you had a chance to look at the proposal for the charity gala?”
He glanced at the folder in his in-tray. It had been sitting there for a week. “Not yet. Is Deirdre desperate for an answer?”
“She needs to let the caterers and staging company know whether they can go ahead.”
“I’m busy at the moment. Can it wait until tomorrow?” He opened another document, copied some text, then returned to the report he was writing.
“If you don’t look at it today, your major fundraiser for the neonatal unit might not happen.”
Stan glanced at his secretary. “The gala is three months away.”
“The only two contractors that Deirdre has booked are the caterers and the staging company. If you don’t make a decision soon, they won’t be able to finalize their plans.”
He rubbed his forehead, wondering how he ever thought being the director of a Level III Trauma Center could be easier than his job in Chicago.
“I’ll look at the report as soon as I’ve finished what I’m doing.”
Gina walked across the room and placed the folder in front of him. “When you’ve made your decision, let me know.”
Stan leaned back in his chair. “Tell me again why I employed you?”
“Because I’m bossy and keep you on your toes.”
He picked up the folder and started reading. By the time he made it to the second page, he knew their major fundraiser was in danger of becoming a major flop.
“Whose idea was it to do a Christmas theme?”
“You’ll have to ask Deirdre, but it is Christmas.”
“And everyone who buys tickets for the gala would have been to at least three Christmas events before they walk through our doors. There’s only so much Christmas spirit to go around.”
Gina’s eyebrows rose. “You sound like the Grinch.”
Stan closed the folder. He’d seen enough to know what his answer would be. “I’m a realist, and my answer is no.”
“No?”
He held out the folder. “Tell Deirdre to make an appointment to see me, but not today. If she brings two or three new ideas to the meeting, it will make the whole process a lot quicker.”
Gina took the folder. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Trust me. Santa won’t have enough pulling power to sell all the tickets. We need something unique that no one else has done.”
“I’ll let Deirdre know. You’ve got fifteen minutes until your next appointment arrives.”
Stan looked at the time and groaned. As much as he wanted to delay the meeting, he needed to see his chief financial officer. The future of the neonatal unit could depend on it.
***
Mia always enjoyed going to Angel Wings Café. It wasn’t the delicious food or seeing her friend Tess, the café’s owner, that made it special. It was the atmosphere that snuck up on you, cocooning you in its warmth and making you glad you stepped through the door.
She smiled and breathed in the heavenly scent of cinnamon and spice.
“You look as though you could stay here all day.” Tess left a carafe of water on a table and wiped her hands on her apron. “We’re working on our Christmas menu.”
Mia looked around the café for Claire and Hannah. “If you want someone to test your baking, I’m all yours.”
“You’ll have to stand behind Logan. My darling husband told me he’s losing too much weight. Training with Dylan is taking a toll on his body.”
“When is the Ironman competition?”
“In three weeks. He’s getting up at five o’clock and going for a run, then swimming for forty minutes, before driving here for breakfast.”
“I feel tired just thinking about that amount of exercise.”
“You and me both. But listening to what Logan’s doing isn’t why you came here. Would you like a table or do you want to take something away with you?”
“A table, please. I’m meeting Hannah and Claire.”
Tess walked toward a table under the front window. “You’ll be able to see them arrive from here. You’ve all been so busy, it’s a wonder you have time to stop for coffee.”
“That’s what our meeting is about. They’ve asked me to stage one of their events.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I haven’t done anything like this before.”
“But you’re going to do it?”
Mia nodded. “I just hope I do a good job.”
Tess glanced at the front counter. “I need to serve some customers, but don’t worry. You’re creative and have a great sense of style. I can’t think of a better person to help Claire and Hannah.”
“You’ve made me feel better already. I knew there was a reason we decided to meet here.”
“I know another one. Come and see me before you go—I have a tray of cinnamon rolls in the kitchen. Good luck with your meeting.” Tess hurried across the café, smiling at the people waiting to pay their bill.
Mia took off her jacket and sat down. Before she had a chance to look at the menu, Claire and Hannah burst into the café.
“Sorry we’re late,” Hannah said breathlessly.
“You’re not late. I’ve only been here a few minutes.”
Claire unbuttoned her red coat. “Deirdre O’Connell called us just before we left.”
“Who’s Deirdre?” Mia asked.
“She was organizing the charity gala at the hospital.”
Mia’s eyes widened. “Was?”
Hannah nodded. “Her husband is being transferred to Oregon at the end of the month. She doesn’t think it’s fair to keep working on the gala when she won’t be here much longer.”
“Is the hospital looking for someone else to do her job?”
“They are, but it won’t be easy.” Claire took a folder out of her bag. “Deirdre wasn’t being paid and the next person might not be able to volunteer their time. The budget for the event isn’t huge, so I’m not sure what the Director of the hospital will do.”
Mia had been hoping the person organizing the gala would be able to give her some guidance. “I have something to tell you, too, only I’m not so sure it’s a good idea anymore.”
Hannah sighed. “It’s Deirdre, isn’t it? I knew that could be a deal breaker.”
Mia leaned forward. “I thought about the gala last night and I worked out a way of helping you. But with the main organizer gone, it could be too much.”
“We’ll help you as much as we can,” Claire said. “If the Jenkins’ wedding takes less time to organize than we think it will, we’ll be right beside you.”
“What if the hospital director doesn’t like the way I’ve interpreted the theme?”
Hannah cleared her throat. “Umm…that’s our other news. The hospital director didn’t like the Christmas theme.”
Mia must have misunderstood what Hannah said. “What didn’t he like about it?”
“According to Deirdre, everything. He thinks people will be tired of Christmas events by the time the gala is held. He wants to see two or three new concepts before he gives his approval to go ahead.”
Mia hadn’t paid that much attention to the concept plans, but what she’d seen didn’t look that bad. “Did Deirdre show him more ideas?”
Claire shook her head. “No. That’s what we need to work through today.”
Hannah pulled her laptop out of its case. “Can we order something to eat and drink? I didn’t have lunch and we could be here for a while.”
Mia checked her watch. “Food is a good idea, but I need to be gone by four o’clock. Will that be a problem?”
“No. It’s perfect.” Hannah studied her menu.
Within five minutes they’d placed their order and were brainstorming different gala themes.
“What about Moulin Rouge?” Claire suggested.
Hannah typed it into her spreadsheet.
Mia leaned forward. “If the hospital director wants something different, what about, Under the Sea? We could transform the venue into an underwater aquarium.”
Claire touched her sister’s arm. “Or what about a medieval theme? We could encourage people to dress as knights, damsels in distress, and rugged warriors.”
“Did they have rugged warriors in the Middle Ages?” Hannah asked.
“Every century has warriors,” Claire said with a smile. “They just dress differently.”
Mia took her cell phone out of her pocket and looked online for inspiration. “Here are two more. What about a Secret Garden or Broadway?”
Hannah nodded and typed them into her laptop. “I like them. Okay, that gives us five ideas. Are there any more?”
“We staged a masquerade ball last year,” Claire said. “We could recycle some of the props we used for that.”
Hannah opened a folder on her laptop. “I’ll show Mia the photos of events we’ve staged in the past. If we use any of those themes, it will be easier to put together some concept plans.”
She spun her laptop around. “Press the space bar when you’re ready to see the next image.”
“We wouldn’t do them exactly the same,” Claire said. “But we could recycle some of the bigger structural pieces.”
This time, Mia didn’t hurry through the photos. “They’re all so different. I like the way you use lighting to add extra atmosphere to the events.”
“It’s all smoke and mirrors,” Hannah said. “Our goal is to transport people to a different world as soon as they walk into the venue.”
Mia’s mouth dropped open when she saw the next photo. “Wow. I’ve never seen such enormous trees, and the fairy lights…”
Claire leaned sideways. “That was the Abertons’ wedding in July. They wanted a Lord of the Rings theme, so we recreated Lothlórien—a forest and elven realm beside the Misty Mountains. The backdrop was incredible. Once we added dry ice, even we had to look twice to make sure we were still in Bozeman.”
Mia flicked backward and forward through the Lord of the Rings photos. “Do you still have the backdrop you used at the Abertons’ wedding?”
“It’s in a warehouse on the edge of town,” Claire said. “What were you thinking of doing with it?”
“It would make a great fantasy masquerade ball backdrop. We could paint a castle between the trees and add fireflies and fairies to the edges. It would look amazing.”
Hannah looked at her sister. “It might just work. Deirdre booked the Baxter Hotel, the same venue as the Abertons’ wedding. It would take a lot of maneuvering to lift it upstairs, but it could be done.”
Claire took a notebook out of her bag. “And what’s even better is that it wouldn’t cost a lot to make it look great. That would leave Mia with more than enough money to decorate the rest of the hotel.”
Hannah’s fingers flew across her keyboard. “That’s one idea. Now all we need are two others, a draft budget, and a few photos. I hope the director of the hospital has a good imagination.”
Mia frowned. Anyone who rejected a Christmas-themed gala needed more than a good imagination. A sprinkling of festive cheer might be better for everyone.
***
Mia sipped a drink and watched everyone admire the art inside her grandfather’s gallery. Exhibitions were usually nerve-wracking, but this one was fun.
The Bozeman Art Collective had two exhibitions each year. This was by far their largest.
“Holly’s arrived,” Claire whispered.
Mia turned to her friend. “I thought she left for Scotland today?’
“She changed her tickets so that she could be here. If you want to see her, she’s standing beside your painting.”
“Do you want to come with me?”
“I’m on waitressing duty in five minutes. I’d better collect a tray of finger food from my sister, or she’ll send out a search party.”
Mia smiled. “I’ll see you later. I’m taking over from Hannah in half an hour.” She moved across the room, determined to say goodbye to Holly in person. Their brief phone call the other day had worried Mia.
Holly had started the Bozeman Art Collective with Mia more than eighteen months ago. They’d wanted to create a place where artists could meet and support each other. As well as painters and sculptors, they had weavers, porcelain doll-makers, and jewelers in their group. At first, they’d been worried that the range of art was too diverse. But after the first few meetings they realized it was the difference between everyone’s work that made their meetings enjoyable.
As she wove between their guests, Mia caught little pieces of conversation. What she heard made her happy. Everyone was enjoying themselves, and from all the red stickers on the art, most pieces had been sold.
Holly stood beside Mia’s granddad, nodding at something he was saying.
“You’re not keeping Holly from her adoring fans are you, granddad?”
Nick Costas’ eyebrows rose. “Who me?”
Holly linked her hand through Nick’s elbow. “Your granddad was telling me about your exhibition in San Francisco. Why didn’t you tell me it’s at the John Williams Gallery? That’s huge.”
“I’m already nervous about what the critics will say. If I’d told you where it was, I would be even more nervous.”
Holly had exhibited at some of the most prestigious galleries in the world. Her paintings sold for thousands of dollars, but she still had her feet firmly planted on the ground. She was one of the most generous people Mia knew and she was glad they were friends.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” Holly said. “You’re an incredible artist.”
Nick sighed. “I tell my little girl that all the time. But does she listen to her pappouli? No.”
“You’re biased, granddad.”
“I may be biased, but I know talent when I see it. You were invited to exhibit in San Francisco because your paintings are beautiful.”
Holly wrapped her arm around Mia’s waist. “When are you going to resign from your teaching position and become a full-time artist?”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
“That’s what you said last year.”
“I know, but it’s a big step.”
Nick patted Holly’s arm. “I will leave you to talk some sense into my granddaughter. Say hello to your father for me.”
“I will. I’ll see you when I get back from Scotland.”
Nick kissed Holly’s cheek. “I will look forward to that.”
Mia smiled as her granddad moved with surprising speed toward a woman wearing a black jacket.
“I think your granddad likes Kathy.”
“They’re good friends,” Mia said. “Even though he still works, he gets lonely. They went to the movies last night.”
“That’s so sweet. And what about you?”
“I don’t have enough time to be lonely. Between teaching, painting, and working with granddad, there aren’t enough hours in the day.”
“Remind me what your New Year’s resolutions were.”
“I never keep them,” Mia muttered.
“You won’t if you don’t make them happen.”
“Painting full-time and going on at least five dates were silly resolutions. Losing ten pounds would have been easier.”
Holly shook her head. “You don’t need to lose weight, and they aren’t silly. Do you still enjoy teaching?”
“You know I do. It’s my manager that’s the problem.”
“He doesn’t appreciate you.”
That was only half the problem. Steven Murdoch didn’t have a creative bone in his body. Mia had no idea how he’d become a senior lecturer. His imagination was nonexistent and his definition of teamwork was to tell his staff what to do, then yell at them if they didn’t follow his instructions.
“You’re in a toxic relationship with your boss.”
Mia scrunched up her nose. “I don’t want to be in any relationship with him.”
Holly pointed to Mia’s painting. “This is what you need to be doing. Your paintings are fantastic.”
“One day I’ll be a full-time artist.”
“Don’t let life sweep you in a different direction.”
Heat hit Mia’s face. Helping Claire and Hannah with the hospital gala was definitely keeping her away from painting. If she wanted her canvases to be ready for her exhibition in San Francisco, she needed to make time to finish them.
Holly took two glasses of wine off a tray. “Let’s make a toast. To friendship, New Year’s resolutions, and a happy future.”
Mia held her glass toward Holly. “And to granddad. Without his support we wouldn’t have this space to make a lot of people’s dreams come true.”
“To Nick,” Holly repeated as they clinked their glasses together.
Bubbles tickled Mia’s nose as she sipped the sparkling wine. If she was going to achieve any of her New Year’s resolutions she needed to do something fast.