Dashing Through the Snow

Dashing Through the Snow
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Debbie Macomber

Excerpt from
Mr. Miracle
by Debbie Macomber copyright © 2014 by Debbie Macomber

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

B
ALLANTINE
and the H
OUSE
colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Macomber, Debbie.

Dashing through the snow : a Christmas novel / Debbie Macomber.

pages ; cm

ISBN 978-0-553-39169-5 (hardcover : alk. paper)

ISBN 978-0-553-39170-1 (ebook)

1. Christmas stories. I. Title.

PS3563.A2364D37 2015

813'.54—dc23

2015025744

eBook ISBN 9780553391701

randomhousebooks.com

Book design by Dana Leigh Blanchette, adapted for eBook

Cover design: Lynn Andreozzi

Cover illustration: Alan Ayers

Title-page image: © iStockphoto.com

v4.1

ep

Christmas 2015

Dear Friends,

My favorite Christmas stories have always been romantic comedies, and the book you're holding in your hands is one of my favorite stories. As an author I know that if I laugh when writing a scene you'll laugh, too, and I laughed a lot. I believe Ashley and Dash are two of my favorite characters. And naturally there's a puppy involved.

The holiday season is often hectic, as we shuffle about among shopping, parties, family festivities, and everything else we can manage to squeeze in within a few short weeks. If ever there was a time a body needs to sit down, relax, and unwind, it's over the holidays.
Dashing Through the Snow
is my contribution to a peaceful, soothing evening.

One of my most frequently asked questions is: Where do you get your story ideas? This time I credit my husband. Wayne hates to fly and once jokingly said he wished someone would put him on a no-fly list. That was all it took for my mind to start buzzing with the question: What if????

Hearing from my readers is one of my most favorite things about the writing life. You can reach me through my website at
debbiemacomber.com
or on Facebook or Twitter. If you'd rather write, my mailing address is P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.

Merry Christmas!

“What? Are you kidding?” Ashley Davison couldn't believe what she was hearing. The reservation clerk for Highland Airlines glanced up nervously. “I'm sorry, but I can't sell you a ticket to Seattle. If you'd kindly step aside and wait a few minutes—”

“Can't or won't?” Ashley cut in, growing more frustrated and worried by the minute. She drew in a deep breath in an effort to control her patience. The woman behind the desk, whose name tag identified her as Stephanie, was clearly having a bad day. Getting upset with her, Ashley realized, wasn't going to help the situation. She made a determined effort to lower her voice and remain cool-headed.

“I…I can't. I'm sorry…”

Ashley refused to take no for an answer. Surprising her mother by flying home for Christmas was too important. “I understand getting a ticket to Seattle four days before Christmas is pushing my luck,” she said, doing her best to appear calm and composed. “If I'd been able to book a seat sooner, I would have. Getting Christmas off from work was a complete surprise. I attend graduate school and I also work at a diner. I hated to miss the holidays with my mother, but I didn't have any choice. She's a widow and my brother lives in Texas and can't get home for Christmas, so there's only me.” Perhaps if the reservation clerk knew her story, she might reconsider the
can't sell you a ticket
part of this discussion.

“Then my boss decided to close the diner between Christmas and New Year's for renovations after the refrigeration unit broke, and then he thought he may as well get a new deep fryer, too, so it just made sense to close down. All this happened at the very last minute, and because he felt so bad he gave me a Christmas bonus so I could fly home.”

“I'm so sorry…” Stephanie said again, looking nervous. “If you'd kindly move aside and wait a few minutes.”

“I haven't seen my mother since last August,” Ashley continued, refusing to give up easily. “I wanted to surprise her. It would mean the world to both of us to be together over the holidays. Would you please look again? I'll take any seat, any time of the day or night.”

Stephanie didn't so much as glance down at her computer screen with even a pretense of trying to accommodate her. “I can't…I wish I could, but I can't.”

Ashley couldn't help but wonder what was up with this
can't
business. That made it all the more nonsensical.

“You
can't,
” she repeated. “There must be more of an explanation than that. It just doesn't make sense.”

The reservation clerk frowned. Her eyes roamed about the area as if she was looking for someone. That, too, was irritating. It was as if she was seeking a replacement or someone to rescue her.

“I believe you have your answer,” the man behind her in line said impatiently. He shifted from one foot to the other, letting Ashley know he didn't appreciate her arguing with the clerk.

Ashley whirled around and confronted him face-to-face. “In case anyone forgot to mention it, this is Christmas. How about a little peace on earth and goodwill toward men? Be patient. I'll be finished as soon as possible and then you can talk to Stephanie, but for now it's my turn.”

In response, he rolled his eyes.

Ashley returned her attention to the woman at the counter. “If you
can't
find me a seat on a plane to Seattle, I'd be willing to fly standby.”

Stephanie shook her head.

“All the flights to Seattle are already booked?” The man next in line blurted out the question.

Stephanie's eyes widened as if she, too, was surprised he'd jumped into their conversation. “I…didn't say that. I'll speak to you directly in just a moment,” she said.

“Excuse me?” Ashley flared, forgetting her resolve to remain calm and collected. This was too much. With her hands on her hips, she stared down at the other woman. “This is discrimination. Just because he's a man and good-looking you can dredge up a seat for him, but not for me?” This was gender discrimination. Where was a television crew when you needed one? This would make a juicy piece for the six-o'clock news.

Seeing that the line was getting long and the Grinch behind her wasn't the only one with a short fuse, Ashley decided to drop the entire matter.

“Okay, fine, have it your way, but I think this is just plain wrong.” With that, she grabbed hold of her suitcase and with all the dignity she could muster started to walk away, feeling more stressed with each step.

“Miss, miss,” the airline employee called after her. “If you'd kindly wait a few minutes I'm sure we could resolve this.”

“No way,” Ashley refused. “As you've repeatedly said, you
can't
sell me a ticket.” With that, she headed out of the airport with her dignity in shreds.

Ashley hadn't expected it would be easy to catch a last-minute flight. She'd already tried to find an available seat online, without luck. For reasons she couldn't understand she kept getting booted off the website. That was the reason she'd decided to come directly to the airport and try her chances there.

Naturally, flying home was her first option. But other modes of transportation were also possibilities. She could always try the bus or travel by train, if there was even one scheduled. The most expedient way to make the trip would be to drive. Unfortunately, her fifteen-year-old hand-me-down car wasn't in the best of shape and she was afraid of it breaking down along the way. To top it off, snow was predicted. Under normal circumstances, snow close to Christmas would be ideal, but not in an aging vehicle. If she could afford…

Ashley stopped mid-step. Why hadn't she thought of this earlier? She could always rent a car! The solution was right in front of her, the answer obvious. She should have thought about it long before now. And really there was no better place to rent a car than in an airport.

Perfect.

Reversing direction, Ashley headed toward the car rental agencies, traveling down the escalator, rolling her suitcase behind her. When she reached the rental area, all of the agencies displayed signs that stated all their cars had been rented. All but one. Ashley made her way to that counter.

The longer she waited in line, the more she fumed about the airline clerk who'd insisted she
couldn't
sell her a seat. The nerve. And then to basically reassure the man in line behind her that there were seats available. That was discrimination of the worst kind, even if the guy was eye candy. Stephanie was clearly looking to do him a favor, which only served to irritate Ashley further. Truth be told, she'd noticed him, too. Hard not to, really. He was tall and stood with military precision, his dark appearance lean and strong. She suspected he was either military or former military. He gave that impression.

The line for the car rental agency slowly crept forward. As luck would have it, the very man who'd been so annoying at the airline counter came to stand behind her again.

It gave Ashley satisfaction to see he hadn't been any more successful with Stephanie in obtaining a seat than she had.

“So Stephanie couldn't sell you a seat, either,” she said, trying hard not to gloat.

“All she had available was standby,” he grumbled, fingering his cell.

Ashley would have gladly accepted a chance for a standby flight. It wouldn't have mattered how long she had to wait. “Not good enough for you, I suppose.”

He glanced her way and frowned, his look darkening. “I can't take the chance. I need to be in Seattle.”

“I do, too,” she insisted. “It's almost Christmas.”

“This is for a job interview.”

“A job?” Ashley echoed. “And you have to be there right before Christmas?”

Instead of answering, he returned his attention to his phone, frowning once again. Apparently he wasn't interested in making conversation with her. Fine. Whatever. That being the case, she wasn't interested in talking to him, either.

Turning back around, Ashley noticed that the line had progressed forward and that it was her turn next.

When the agent became available, she reached the counter and offered the man a warm smile, hoping not to have the same experience as she had with the clerk from the airline. “Merry Christmas.”

The man looked harried and tired. Ashley didn't blame him. It was a hectic time of year.

“Merry Christmas,” he returned without a lot of enthusiasm.

“I need to rent a car,” she said, stating the obvious. “I'm headed to Seattle.”

The agent looked down at his computer screen. “This is your lucky day. You have the last car in the entire lot and my guess is it's the last vehicle in the entire airport.”

“I'll take it,” she said, beaming him a smile.

“Excuse me,” the man behind her said. “Did I just hear you say that this is the last car you have available?”

It was all Ashley could do not to revel in her good luck and his lack of fortune. “And it's all mine.” She couldn't resist rubbing it in. She was about to suggest he use his power-schmoozing techniques on the ticket agent upstairs again, but didn't. This car was hers. There was no need to taunt him any more than she already had.

“I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid it's all we have.”

Ashley narrowed her eyes and glared at the handsome stranger.

“Okay, fine,” he said, none too pleased. “Then I say we share it. That makes perfect sense, seeing that we both want to get to Seattle.”

“It's not happening.” Did Mr.
GQ
think she was stupid? Others might be influenced by his good looks and his charm, but not her. “For all I know, you could be a serial killer.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” he countered. “It's the perfect solution. I need to get to Seattle and so do you.”

“I am not sharing this car with you!” Better safe than sorry.

“Miss,” the agent interrupted. “If you're going to rent the car I'll need your credit card and driver's license.”

“I fully intend to rent this car,” Ashley said, glancing at the arrogant man standing next to her. She slapped her driver's license and credit card on the countertop and whirled around to face him.

“You're unbelievable,” she told him, letting him know she wouldn't be pushed around. Some people might be taken in by this alpha male, but not her. It took more than a pretty face to win her over. “I'd be crazy to consider traveling with a complete stranger.”

“Come on,” he pleaded. “I'll pay for the car, accept all the responsibility, and you can ride for free.”

“Oh sure. That's what you say now.”

“It's a workable solution,” the agent suggested. “It's a long drive to Seattle, and you'd both get what you want.”

Ashley hesitated. It would be nice to save the money. And it was a good distance. Still…

“You'll pay all the expenses?” she asked the other man, eyeing him again, gauging his serial-killer potential.

“Gladly.”

“Rental fee, insurance, gas?
Everything?
” If she agreed, she'd use her Christmas bonus for spending money.

“I'll pay for
everything,
” he reiterated.

Still, she wasn't sure she should trust him. “How do I know I can trust you?” she asked, eyes narrowing as she studied him. Sure, he looked decent enough, clean cut and all, but she'd seen enough true-crime shows on television to realize the killer was often the charming, handsome man no one suspected.

“You want references?” He made it sound like a big joke.

“Yes.”

“Okay, fine.” He exhaled as if completely put out, as if she was the one being unreasonable. “Who do you want to talk to? Will my mother do? What about my sister?”

“What about your wife?” If there was dirt to be had, the wife would be in the know. Besides, it made sense to alert the unsuspecting wife that he was about to travel with her.