It Must Have Been the Mistletoe... by Kate Hoffmann Page B

into town and do the grocery shopping.”
    â€œYou don’t have a social life?”
    He shook his head. “It’s a bit difficult. My patients keep me busy. Sometimes I drive into Knoxville to see friends, maybe catch a movie, but I’m a pretty solitary guy.”
    â€œWhy did you decide to come back here to practice? There can’t be much to do here beyond work.”
    â€œI was needed,” he said. “I worked at a hospital in Nashville, in the emergency room. I helped a lot of patients, but I barely knew them. I’d patch them up and send them ontheir way. I know these people and they know me. And I like that.”
    A memory niggled at her brain. “Which hospital in Nashville?”
    â€œMemorial,” he said.
    â€œHow long did you work there?”
    â€œFor two years. I quit about a year ago.”
    â€œI was in that E.R. last Christmas. I tripped over a stuffed sheep in my parents’ annual nativity scene and sprained my wrist.”
    â€œI didn’t treat you, did I?”
    â€œNo, I’m sure I would have remembered you. But, just think, we could have known each other back then. But we passed by, not ever…realizing.”
    â€œRealizing what?”
    â€œThat it could be so…good. Don’t you wonder how many other people you walk by that you could get along with? I mean, the stars have to align perfectly to meet the right person. For some people it never happens.”
    â€œI guess the stars were aligned this time around,” he said.
    His words slowly faded in the chilly air, but Alison let them replay in her head. He talked as if this was the beginning of something they’d been waiting for their whole lives. Maybe she had been fated to meet Drew here, on this mountain. But it couldn’t be anything more than a casual affair. By the summer, she’d be in Texas getting ready for her new job, not living on some remote mountaintop in a cabin without electricity.
    When they reached Ettie’s place, the dogs rushed out and greeted them, jumping and whining until Drew and Alison stepped up on the porch.
    â€œListen,” Drew said. “I want to talk to you before we go inside.”
    â€œSure. What is it?”
    â€œIf Ettie doesn’t want to give you permission to use hersongs, then that’s it. I don’t want you to pressure her or try to make her change her mind.”
    Alison opened her mouth to explain she would never do that, but before she could, the cabin door swung open and Ettie welcomed them both inside. The interior had been transformed from the day before, decorated for Christmas. Alison walked over to the hearth and looked at the hand-carved crèche on the timber mantel.
    â€œOh, it’s beautiful,” she said.
    â€œI got carried away,” Ettie said. “I usually don’t decorate unless I know I’ll have visitors. I thought you might like to see a few of my things. I’ve been collecting them for quite some time.”
    â€œThese are all handmade,” Alison said.
    â€œYes. Some of them are very old. The crèche is something my grandfather carved for me when I was little after I started to lose my sight. I used to run my fingers over the animals and arrange them around the stable.”
    Alison had only seen pieces like these in folk museums. She could imagine the excitement they’d cause with local antique dealers. But these were Ettie’s treasures and they deserved to stay in the family, not get sold to the highest bidder. Alison glanced over at Drew. He was watching her carefully, as if trying to read her reaction.
    â€œI spoke with Drew about your songs,” she said. “And I’ll understand if you don’t want to give me permission to publish them.” She paused. “But I think people would like to hear them, Ettie.”
    â€œDo you really think so?” the older woman asked.
    â€œI do. And I’d like to sing