Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

H utton

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Little ears, Dom," I growl right back.

My agent, Dominic Hewitt, has zero filter, and normally I wouldn't let Henry listen in on a conversation with him, but I need both hands on the wheel while I drive in snow, so Bluetooth it is. Where I grew up in Texas, we didn't get snow. Hundred-degree temps and wicked lightning storms, but not this white stuff that have my tires feeling like they aren't entirely engaging with the road.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he snarks. "Where the bleep are you?"

I roll my eyes and slow way down for a turn in the road. "We scheduled some time off, remember?"

"Yes, of course I remember. You were supposed to be in Texas with your family and yet Caroline says she hasn't heard from you."

The little town of Snowhaven comes into view and I twist to nudge Henry where he's sitting in his car seat in the cab of my truck playing with his miniature horse figurines. His eyes light up, and he leans forward to see better, forgetting all about his toys.

"You really need to stop calling my mama, Dom."

There's a beat of muffled silence where I'm sure he's cursing me with his hand over the phone to mute it. When he comes back on the line, I can hear the frustration pouring from his tone and it makes me grin. The man is going to drop dead of a heart attack if he doesn't start calming down. He's taken being my agent to an obsessive level. It often feels like he thinks himself my keeper. I'm forty freaking years old. Pretty sure I don't need a keeper.

"I wouldn't have to call Caroline if you would show up where you're supposed to be." There's a lot of judgement in his tone, and I'm just about done with it.

We pass a florist shop that somehow still has blooms in the window this late into winter. The black lampposts lining Main Street have festive red tinsel wrapped around them and green garland hanging from below the lights. Every storefront has raided the twinkle lights aisle, trying to outdo each other. People roam the streets, shopping bags in hand. The Hallmark Christmas channel has vomited all over Snowhaven, Idaho.

My phone beeps through the speakers, and I let out a groan when I check the screen down in the cup holder. "I gotta go, Dom. Holly's calling."

"Wait!"

I hang up on him and take the call from my ex-wife instead, not wanting to talk to her either, but knowing if I don't, she'll just keep calling. This time, I take my chances with the road conditions and take her off Bluetooth to put the phone to my ear. There's no way I want Henry hearing her voice when we're getting our first vacation alone together in a year.

"Holly."

I hit the brakes at a stop sign and let a couple cross the street. I try not to acknowledge the stab of envy seeing them holding hands and doing their Christmas shopping with bright smiles on their faces.

"I found a nanny after all. I need you to bring Henry back."

"Not a chance in hell," I snap.

"Excuse me?" I can practically see her nostrils flaring with indignation. It's the only part of her face that can actually move.

"According to the parenting plan, this is my Christmas with him. The only reason I was going to let you have him is because you said you wanted to take him to go see your mother."

"I am taking him to see my mother!"

"Then why the nanny?" I ease off the brake and give it a little gas, creeping down the street while Henry and I take in all the little shops and Christmas decor crammed into every nook and cranny.

"You can't possibly expect me to travel to another state without a nanny!"

"Holly? Enough with the nannies. He's staying with me, his father, for the holidays. See you December twenty-seventh, just like we discussed." I hang up, irritation seeping into my carefully constructed holiday plans of total relaxation with my boy.

I found out about a month ago that Holly had been leaving Henry with a stable of nannies while she flitted around the world. She's an actress, and as a famous country singer myself, I understand needing to travel for her job, but my private investigator said she hasn't bothered coming home in several months. That's absolutely not okay in my book. Our son deserves better and I'm going to give it to him, starting today. We left southern California as it was getting dark yesterday and we're arriving around noon the following day in Snowhaven, Idaho. I should be tired from driving all night but all I feel is an intriguing tingle of excitement.

When my friend, and fellow country singer, Ella McPatrick, called me last week in a panic over her wedding, I felt badly enough for her I changed my plans. The singer she hired for her wedding reception had come down with pneumonia and couldn't sing. Considering I hired Ella way back when to open for one of my tours when she was just getting started, I felt like I should continue the trend and bail her out. Hell, I enjoyed seeing her head over heels in love with her fiancé. The two deserved some happiness, even if I never experienced it myself. So here I am, Henry in tow, heading to their remote wedding in Idaho to sing the father-daughter song at the reception and experience a white Christmas with my son. Mom hadn't been happy about me shortening my trip to go see them, but she promised to keep my location quiet.

I simply haven't told my agent about the change in plans. Which is unlike me, honestly. I can understand why Dom is freaking out. I just don't feel like divulging where I'm at for the first time in my life.

"Look at Santa, Daddy!" Henry's little finger comes between the seats, urgently pointing at the life-sized Santa sitting in a sleigh on top of the post office building. I grin, thinking this town reminds me a little bit of home.

"Ho, ho, ho!" I shout, earning a giggle from Henry. "We're going to have so much fun this Christmas, son."

The Havenkirk Lodge is old and rustic and charming as hell. Morgana, a friend of mine, lives here part-time with her husband and their two daughters. I've known Morgana for years, being in the same industry. I was even at her wedding to Aksel, the single dad from Idaho. She's part of the reason I said yes to Ella. I haven't seen Morgana in awhile, and when I called her to let her know I was thinking of coming, she screamed in my ear and then said she had a babysitter for Henry so I had zero excuses to bail on the trip. Given our history, I trusted their nanny to watch my son tonight.

A large Labradoodle comes running out the front door, Imogen and a pint-sized version of her, following after. Henry whoops it up as the dog puts its big paws on the back window and peers in.

Imogen, a teenage version of the little girl I met at their wedding, pulls him down and waves at me through the window. I push open the door and introduce myself.

"Hutton Calder." My hand hovers between us, but she bypasses it, pulling me into a hug.

"I know who you are, silly! Mom says every female on the planet knows you. Even my friends think you're cute." She glances down as the little one tugs on her leg. "Oh, and this is Nora, my little sister."

I look down at a vision of an angel in human form, ignoring the cute comment. It feels weird knowing teen girls look at me like that. "Nice to meet you, Nora. Where'd you leave your mom and dad?"

"Dey slow," she says in a little voice, then giggles, showing off her baby teeth. The dog licks her across the face and the giggles kick up a notch.

I grin at them, then open the back door to unclick Henry's seat harness. He crawls out and hovers against my leg, assessing the two girls with wide eyes. The dog tries to jump on him, but Imogen grabs him in time.

"Down, Rudolph."

"Wudolph?" Henry says, wrinkling his nose.

"It's actually Randolf, Norwegian for wolf, but these two seem to like Rudolph better." Aksel strides out of the lodge, looking like a real-life Viking.

Imogen sticks her tongue out at her father and then turns back to us. "You must be Henry," she says kindly, taking my son's hand and leading him to the lodge with Nora on her other side. "Want to help us teach Rudolph to shake hands? We keep trying, but he's pretty stubborn."

"As every good Viking should be," Aksel grumbles, reaching out to shake my hand in a death grip.

I wince, teasing him. "Ease up there. You don't want to break my guitar hand."

"Bah! You would never allow it." Aksel eyes me. "You been working out more?"

I shoot him a smile he does not return. In all the time I've known him, Aksel doesn't smile much. Unless he's looking at any of his three girls. Then he's all roses and sunshine.

"Gets harder once you turn forty. Been eating cleaner and lifting more just to keep the same physique." I go around to the back of the truck and lift the lid to take out our suitcases. Aksel takes mine, leaving me with Henry's Bluey suitcase.

"I know what you mean. Have you tried ice baths?"

I look around at the pine trees dotting the thin blanket of snow as far as the eye can see. "Sounds like torture."

Aksel scoffs and smacks me on the back as we approach the front door to the lodge. "You will join me while you are here. Grows hair on a man's chest."

He sweeps open the wooden door and I step inside, sighing audibly at the heat that hits my skin. A large stone fireplace dominates the lobby, crackling with a fire. I instantly look for Henry, worried about him getting too close, but he's sitting on a cracked leather couch, a cookie clutched in each hand.

"Do not worry. Imogen will watch out for him," Aksel says, following my gaze.

"My whole world is sitting over there, Aksel."

Aksel grunts, then puts his arm around my shoulders in maybe the first kind gesture he's shown me in the five-plus years I've known him.

"I understand, Calder. Believe me. But you never know when a good woman will sweep in and expand your whole world."

I shake my head, not able to imagine it. Women serve a purpose in my life, usually to keep my bed warm when I'm on the road, but never has one had the ability to change my whole world. There was a time I thought Holly Hancock might be that woman, but she dashed my hopes before the wedding ring even left a tan line on her finger.

"I think that ship has sailed, my friend."

Aksel squeezes me and then lets go, walking to the registration desk where an older woman smiles at us expectantly. "That is where you are wrong. Another ship is always ready to sail."

With that weird analogy, he reaches the desk and swipes a key card before giving the older woman a head nod of thanks. "Come meet my mother, Calder."

One more glance at Henry that shows him having a grand time with the girls, and I turn and walk over. The woman stretches out her hand, a sweet smile on her face that looks a lot like Aksel. You know, if he actually smiled.

" Vee have heard great things about you, Mister Calder," the woman says in a thick accent.

I shake my head and give her my signature smile. "If those things came from Aksel, don't believe a word." I crank up the charm so much Aksel groans next to me. "You must be his lovely sister."

The woman blushes and giggles, her hand still in mine. "Oh, you make an old woman happy."

I wink at her. "That's what all the women say about me."

Aksel shoves me aside, breaking my contact with his mother. "This is my mother, Ingrid Lund. You will quit your flirting or I will put you on log-splitting duty."

I ignore the man, biting back a smile. "Nice to meet you, Ingrid."

She smiles at me, then turns a frown on Aksel. "You are such a grump, Aksel Lund."

"Hutton!" Morgana's excited voice calls from behind us. I turn to see her sail into the lobby, her long hair flowing behind her. The woman is gorgeous, a detail not missed by any male, young or old. She and I, however, have always been just friends.

We embrace and Aksel doesn't physically assault me for touching his wife. I'd say we're well on our way to being best friends at this point. Imogen, Nora, and Henry run up to our group and introductions are made.

"It's time for Snowmass!" Imogen shouts, grabbing our attention.

Morgana smiles, elbowing Aksel. "Today's the gingerbread event, which was, incidentally, our first fight."

Aksel pulls her into his side with a possessive arm around her waist. "It was our second fight, actually. And you were wrong, as usual."

"Guys," Imogen whines, clearly used to the antics from these two.

"Daddy so silly," Nora says around a smile.

Ingrid comes around the desk and stows our bags behind the front desk before sweeping Nora into her arms. "All guests have arrived and Dagny has the gingerbread men ready to go. Let's go decorate!"

Henry looks up at me and I shrug. "Guess we're making gingerbread men, buddy."

"Gingerbread women , actually," Imogen interrupts, making her father groan.

"Not this again."

I pick up Henry and follow the group out the back of the lodge where tables have been set up in the snow and half the town seems to be in attendance. Rudolph dashes between tables, looking for any cookies left unattended. I see a few familiar faces and realize a lot of the cookie makers are the wedding guests.

"Whas' a gingybed man?" Henry asks, burrowing into my chest as he takes in all the unfamiliar people.

My chest aches. I feel like a bad father for never decorating gingerbread cookies with my son. Truth be told, I was always too busy on tour to do the traditional holiday things or he was too young to participate. I vow to get this singing gig over this evening at the wedding and then spend the rest of our holiday break focused on giving my son the best Christmas ever.

"Come, come!" An old woman waves my son and me to an empty table, delivering piping hot gingerbread shapes to the parchment paper already set up. There are icing bags and candy toppings covering the table.

"Gingerbread is a part of Snowmass, son." I grin at him, setting him down on the bench next to me as we build our very first gingerbread house together.

I can't change the past but I can move forward with a renewed focus. The Christmas spirit is going to rain down on both of us this year and every year thereafter. Mark my words.