I had no idea when I wrote this book that I would fall in love with the fictional town Hood Hamlet and the people who live there, but I did. This story is the first in what I hope will be a series set on Mount Hood and involving mountain rescuers. The second in the series, Christmas Magic on the Mountain, will be out in November 2010.
This story came out of a tragedy. In December 2006, three climbers went missing on Mount Hood which is about an hour and half from where I live. At that time, I knew nothing about climbing, but followed the search both in the news and on the Internet.
On Wednesday, December 14th, I wrote the following on my diary:
And please pray for the three climbers-Kelly, Brian and Nikko-missing on Mt. Hood, their families who must be worried sick about them and the searchers, real-life heroes waiting for a break in the weather so they can get up the mountain and do their job. My heart goes out to all of them.
On December 20th, I wrote:
I don't know about you, but my heart aches for the families of the three climbers lost on Mt. Hood. Yes, they are strangers. Yes, people go missing every single day. Yet something about this story affected not only my family, but people across the nation.
The happenings on Mt. Hood riveted us. Watching the three families during the press conferences for the past week and seeing their dignity, their grace and most especially unwavering faith touched us. We wanted a happy ending for the climbers and their families, a different outcome from a few weeks before with James Kim. And, however unlikely that may seem now that the mission is in recovery mode, I still want it. I want that Christmas Miracle for the families, for the searchers, for all of us.
But then again, I'm a romance writer and happily ever afters are our specialty. I just wish I could have been the one writing this ending.
Though I couldn't rewrite that ending, I could write a different story, one that had come to me a few days earlier while watching news coverage of the rescue and learning about the volunteers involved with mountain rescue. Right before Christmas I sent off a one page synopsis of a romance novel featuring a mountain rescue hero and a heroine who lost her fiancé and brother in a climbing accident on Mount Hood. That synopsis became RESCUED BY THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS.
If you'd like to learn more about the December '06 tragedy, check out
this article by
Portland Mountain Rescue (PMR) member Iain Morris in the Northwest Mountaineering Journal.
I had lots of help writing this book. Given my extreme fear of heights climbing was not on my list of things to try. That meant I had to find people who could answer my questions.
A few members from Portland Mountain Rescue proved themselves true heroes by helping me. A Central Washington Mountain Rescue member provided research help as well as much needed eleventh hour assistance. I was fortunate enough to talk with the wife of one PMR member and the sister of another. Both provided great insight on being the family member of a mountain rescue volunteer. Several climbers also helped me. I owe every single one of them a huge thank you!
And a funny thing happened while writing this book. A couple people helped me get into climbing. It was something I never thought I would do, but I fell in love with the sport and to them I will be eternally grateful!
EXCERPT
As snow flurries fell from the gray sky, Carly Bishop stared at the charming log house surrounded by towering fir trees and decorated with strands of white icicle lights. A lopsided four-foot tall snowman, complete with carrot nose, stood in the front yard. A single electric candle shone through a wood-paned window, the flickering flame a welcoming light.
Carly walked along the snow-dusted path, dragging her wheeled suitcase behind her. A few feet from the porch she noticed a green wreath tied with a red velvet bow hanging from a brass holder on the front door. The scent of pine was sharp in the air. The same way it had been...
Her breath caught in her throat.
The house, the wreath, the candle, the snowman. It was as if time had stopped, as if the last six years had simply been a bad dream. Any second, Carly expected Nick to fling open the front door wearing a Santa hat and greet her with a jolly ho-ho-ho. And Iain...
Iain.
She closed her eyes, fighting an onslaught of unwelcome memories.
I can't believe you're going climbing two days before our wedding. Why don't you just admit it, Iain? You love climbing more than you love me.
She'd wanted to forget. The argument and tears before and as he'd left to climb. The thoughts about his selfish behavior while he'd been climbing and dying. The grief and guilt after his body and Nick's had been found.
Carly thought she had forgotten. Put the past behind her. Moved on. She forced herself to breathe.
Coming back had been a mistake.
She should have stayed in Pennsylvania where she'd made a new life for herself, far away from the shadow of Mount Hood and all the mountain had stole from her. If only staying away had been an option, but her brother's widow Hannah was expecting a new baby and needed help with her two children.
So here Carly was. Ready to be an aunt extraordinaire for her niece and nephew. For better or most likely, worse.
Two weeks. All she had to do was survive the next two weeks, including December twenty-fourth, the twenty-fifth and New Years Eve. How hard could that be? Given she hadn't celebrated the holidays in years, she didn't want to know the answer.
Carly tightened her grip on the suitcase handle and climbed the steps to the front porch. With a tentative hand, she reached for the doorknob then remembered this was no longer her brother's house. She pressed the doorbell and waited.
The doorknob jiggled.
Straightening, Carly forced a smile. Years of working with customers had taught her how to put on a happy face no matter how she felt inside.
The door cracked open.
"Welcome back, Carly," a male voice greeted her warmly.
She expected to see Hannah's husband of two years, Garrett Willingham, but the man standing in the doorway looked nothing like the clean-cut, non-risk-taking, business-suit-wearing certified public accountant. This guy was too rugged, too fit, too...familiar.
"Jacob Porter." Over six feet tall with brown hair that fell past his collar, he still had piercing blue eyes, a killer smile and hot hard-body that had made the girls, herself included, swoon back in high school. But those things had only been made better with age. Her pulse kicked up a notch. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you." His grin widened, the same way it had whenever he and Nick teased her about something. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry..." Simply thinking the word left a bitter taste in her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to say it. "Season Greetings. Where's Hannah?"
"At a doctor's appointment," Jacob explained. "Garrett drove her. She didn't know if they'd be home before you arrived or the school bus dropped Kendall and Austin off so they asked me to come over."
Carly noticed Jacob's clothes--a light blue button-down oxford shirt, khaki pants and brown leather shoes. A bit more stylish than the T-shirts, jeans or shorts and sneakers she remembered him wearing. He must have been at work.
"Thank you." Though she wasn't surprised. Jacob had always gone out of his way for them, a surrogate-everything to what remained of the Bishop family. He'd found her the job at a brewpub in Pennsylvania. He'd taught Nick's two kids to snow ski and fish. He'd even introduced Hannah to Garrett.
"Hurry inside before you get too cold." Jacob reached for Carly's suitcase. His hand--big, calloused and warm--brushed hers. The accidental contact startled her, and she jerked her hand away. "You city girls aren't used to the temperatures up here."
Forget the cold. She wasn't used to her response to his touch. Carly couldn't remember the last time a man had had that effect on her. "It gets cold in Philadelphia, too."
As she stepped into the house, heat surrounded her, cocooning her with the inviting comforts of home. She glanced around, noticing all the nice homey touches. Ones missing from her apartment.
"You look the same," he said.
He looked better. She glanced around. "So does this place."
And that somehow made everything...worse.
A fire blazed and crackled in the river rock fireplace. The way it had that horrible, dark Christmas morning when a teary-eyed Hannah told the kids to unwrap their gifts from Santa.
Carly wanted to close her eyes, to shut off the video of years gone by streaming through her mind, but the fresh evergreen scent, the twinkling multi-colored lights and the ornament-ladened branches wouldn't let her.
The popcorn and cranberry strung garland, keepsake decorations marking special occasions, silver bells and gold balls all reminded Carly of the rush to take the tree down before Nick's funeral. Hoping to protect the children, Hannah hadn't wanted the event to be associated with Christmas in any way. Her efforts seemed to have worked, but Carly couldn't think of one without the other.
The door closed. The sound made her glance back.
Jacob stared at her, an unrecognizable emotion in his eyes.
She remembered the time, during an argument with Iain, she'd turned to Jacob for advice. There'd been a moment when she thought he might kiss her. He'd been looking at her then the same way as now.
Her temperature rose--the combo of forced air heating and fireplace, no doubt--and she shrugged off her jacket.
"I'll take that." He hung her coat on the rack by the door. "It's good to see you again."
"You, too." And she meant that. Funny, but seeing him hadn't brought back any bad memories. That surprised her. "How are things at the Wy'East Brewing Company?"
Copyright © 2008 Melissa McClone Copyright © 2008 Harlequin Enterprises Ltd. Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books SA.
