Page 10 of A Bear Ski Instructor Christmas (Holiday Shifters of Frost Mountain)

The Museum of Lost Things

As the days rolled by in Melinor, Christmas drew nearer, and Rachel felt herself getting closer to the end of her patience. It had been weeks since she arrived on Frost Mountain, weeks since she vowed to help Michael recover his memory, but so far, nothing seemed to have changed. Melinor grew merrier by the day, but all Rachel felt was frustration.

She and Michael had hung out some more. He was the same friendly, loveable man she’d fallen in love with four years ago. Same kind of sexy grey eyes. Same muscular frame that she’d caught herself ogling now and then. Only in a way, it wasn’t really him, was it? Because he didn’t remember her.

When she expressed her concerns to Reba, the older woman advised her to be patient.

“That’s literally all I’ve been doing,” Rachel protested. “I’ve been patient for weeks, hoping for at least a bit of progress. Nothing so far.”

“The way I see it, it must be hard for him, having you show up out of nowhere and bombarding him with all that information that he doesn’t even remember.” Reba smiled. “Reminds me of a surprise attack, you know, like Pearl Harbor. You’re Pearl Harboring him. He’s going to need a while to get his head where it needs to be.”

Rachel had almost forgotten this woman was ex-military. Sometimes, it took her a moment or two to realize what the heck she was going on about.

They were walking through the Museum of Lost Things, one of the few parts of the village that Rachel hadn’t explored yet. The museum was a large building with a high, somewhat dome-shaped roof. As they walked through the building, Rachel couldn’t help thinking it looked more like a junkyard than a museum. Chunks of metal and old vehicles were scattered across the ground every few feet. Rachel recognized a rusted plane engine in a corner next to the front half of a vintage Mercedes. Books, paintings, and appliances sat atop everything else in piles reaching toward the ceiling, forming narrow walkways between them like a maze.

Rachel picked up a book and stared at it for a moment. It was a novel. Half the front cover was missing, but she could make out the title: Tiger Enemy’s Dirty Secret . She turned the book over in her hands, eyeing the spine for the author’s name. Scarlett something. Stine? Stone? She placed the book back on the pile where she’d found it.

She turned to Reba. “It’s not that easy waiting.”

“Trust me, I understand. But maybe he’ll come around with time. Maybe he’ll remember you.”

The way the woman said those words didn’t sound at all reassuring. Rachel’s brows creased. She touched her necklace absentmindedly. “And what if he doesn’t? What if I’m the only one who remembers everything we had?”

The thought had taken root in her mind over a week ago, but it still sent chills through her because, as much as she wanted to deny it, that was a possibility. She could spend the rest of her life burdened with the beautiful memories that Michael didn’t share. And Michael had nothing to lose because he didn’t even remember what they’d had together.

A deep sigh escaped Reba’s lips. “Well, I guess bringing you here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Museum of Lost Things is a place where memories are stored—memorabilia from various points in time.” She pointed. “That there is a Boeing 737 engine, discovered ten miles or so from this village a few years ago. And that painting over there? It dates way back to the early nineteenth century. This place is filled with things from our world, reminders of where we came from.”

“Like a time capsule?” Rachel made a conscious effort to relax her eyebrows. “A time capsule, but for Earth. An Earth capsule.”

Reba frowned at the analogy but nodded slowly. “Something like that. Now and then, residents of Melinor come here to try to remember what life was like back there. It’s easy to forget many things once you’ve been here for a decade or two, trust me.”

Rachel didn’t want to imagine all the things the woman must have lost track of over the years. Friends, family, her job…it sounded so horrible. And if she remained on Frost Mountain long enough, Rachel was likely to experience the same fate. Soon, she’d become so used to Frost Mountain that memories of her old life on Earth would lose their relevance. Memories of her dreams, of Sam…

She brushed the thought aside before it could sink deeper into her mind.

“So coming here helps people remember Earth,” she muttered.

“Not always.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the point I’m driving at. Sometimes, it doesn’t matter how much memorabilia there is. People don’t always remember what life used to be like for them. Sometimes, those memories are lost forever because the people have been here for so long that the symbols of their past mean nothing to them anymore.”

Rachel let out a shuddering breath. “So what you’re saying is…”

“That there’s a chance that Michael will never get those memories of you back.” A sad look flashed in Reba’s eyes. “And as much as you love that man, you’re going to have to accept reality at some point.”

***

Rachel soon grew bored with the museum. In her defense, it was hard not to lose interest after everything Reba had told her. She and the older woman left the building, Rachel half-wondering if she might return some other time to grab a book or something else to kill time. They walked in silence through the streets, which thrummed with more energy than usual today.

“What’s going on?” Rachel asked, gesturing toward the excited-looking villagers they passed.

“Christmas is,” replied Reba. A moment passed between them before she added, “Well, Santa Claus, to be more specific.”

“Huh? Run that by me again?”

A smile tugged at the corners of the woman’s lips. “It’s Michael. He dresses up as Santa around this time of every year and walks around the village right before he teaches the villagers to ski. This is his third year now. I have to say, it’s been…amazing, having him around here.”

Rachel was barely listening to her. A memory had just struck her, one of Michael in a complete Saint Nick’s suit, grinning at her as he eased himself into his skis.

“You look like a total clown; you know that, right?” she’d asked him, resisting the urge to giggle at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Have you ever seen a jolly Santa on skis before? This is going to be awesome.”

He gazed past her at the snowy slope ahead of them. Lee Canyon was crawling with lots of skiers that day. Not many of them were skiing yet. Most stood watching in disbelief and amusement as Michael plodded over to the top of the slope. He smirked over his shoulder at her, his fake white beard twitching as he did, and she burst into laughter.

“Watch and learn, babe,” he called to her, straightening his hat. “Ho, ho, ho!”

And he was gone, hurtling down the hill in a blur of red and white.

That was the last she’d seen of him. It had all been a gimmick: Santa on Skis. She’d been laughing uncontrollably, but that day had ended in tears.

“Oh, look—he’s here.” Reba’s voice slowly pulled her out of the depths of her memory.

Rachel followed her gaze—and her eyes widened.

Oh, God.

Sure enough, Michael was decked out in a Santa suit, no doubt the same one he’d been wearing the day she’d lost him. Time hadn’t been so kind to the costume; it was frayed at the hems and had lost some of its color, so it looked pink instead of red. But it was him, alright. Underneath that old hat, behind that scanty white beard, his grey eyes shone brightly.

“Ho, ho, ho!” he exclaimed.

The villagers in the street cheered excitedly. Rachel could see what Reba was talking about. It didn’t matter whether they knew who he really was or not. The sight of Santa walking through the village was enough to inspire joy in the hearts of everyone. He was a symbol to these people—not a relic in the Museum of Lost Things, but something more…alive.

Looking at him, Rachel could feel her heart warming. Despite the circumstances that had brought them all to this cold, dreadful mountain and left them trapped, he was constantly working hard to bring as much joy as possible to the people of Melinor. Santa or not, she’d seen how people behaved around him. He was capable of turning even the deepest frown upside down with nothing but a wisecrack and a twinkle in those gorgeous eyes of his.

No wonder it had been so easy for her to fall hopelessly head over heels in love with him.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Michael said again.

And then his eyes met hers, and Rachel’s breath caught in her throat. For a second, his step faltered, then he turned toward a few kids, waving at them. Adults and children alike were thrilled to see him. It was almost ironic. Back on Earth, she didn’t know any adults who believed in Santa Claus. Here, he seemed to be one of the few things that kept the villagers going. Rachel found herself wondering what Melinor must have been like before Michael showed up.

She’d been pondering that for a moment when Reba said, “Looks like your lover’s headed our way.”

Rachel blinked and clutched at her pendant. Michael was striding toward them, his gaze locked on hers. She stared back, unsure whether to go to him or remain where she stood. Before she could reach a decision, he before her, those grey eyes searching her face.

“Hey,” he said.

“H-hi,” she stammered, setting her hands down at her sides.

It was a little strange, seeing him standing before her in the same clothes he’d been wearing when he’d disappeared. A flutter arose in Rachel’s stomach, and she sucked in a breath. Of course, he didn’t even remember that day.

“You look…great,” she managed to say. “You make a handsome Santa.”

“Why, thank you.” He shot her a seductive grin. “Do you think you’ll be on my naughty or nice list?”

She stared, open-mouthed, at him until Reba cleared her throat.

“I should get going,” she said. “I have some, ah, matters to attend to.”

With that, she turned and walked off, leaving Rachel and Michael standing in awkward silence.

Well, it was awkward only for Rachel. Michael still had that grin on his face. God, how she wished she could wipe it off. Preferably with her own lips…

“So you’re the village Santa,” she said, unsure what else was appropriate at the moment. “Sounds like a rather lucrative business.”

He chuckled at her quip. “I was wearing this costume when I appeared on Frost Mountain. Can you imagine that? I must’ve been skiing in this suit when I went through that portal. Isn’t that funny?”

Rachel couldn’t answer. The reality of Reba’s words had struck her with the force of a sledgehammer. Michael had no idea what had happened the day he disappeared, and what were the odds he would ever remember? It was just like Reba said: There’s a chance that Michael will never get those memories of you back…

“I guess it is,” she said finally with a strained laugh. “Anyway, the costume looks great on you. I’ve got to go, too. Talk to you later?”

Before he could respond, she stepped around him and walked off, her face burning despite the cold. No doubt Michael was wondering what the heck had just happened. But his confusion was nothing compared to what she was feeling right now, which was that she needed some space for herself. Hopefully, Maria’s cabin was still empty. A warm bath and some rest should ease the dread that had settled in her chest…

It was almost amusing how much her life had changed over the course of a few weeks. Barely a month ago, she’d been a fashion model, worrying about a casting call, and now? Well, unless they held annual runway shows here in Melinor, that was the least of her concerns. Was this how quickly a person’s life could turn upside down? Or was it right side up? Her world had been chaos after Michael disappeared. She’d barely managed to adapt to his absence. Finding him here on Frost Mountain, she’d been ecstatic, but this place wasn’t exactly Disneyland. She’d found the love of her life, but now they were both stranded on a mountain that shouldn’t even exist.

Rachel ignored the excited villagers as she made her way through the streets, heading for Maria’s cabin. The trip took no more than a few minutes, and she kept her eyes cast down at the snow as she walked. She’d almost reached the cabin when she realized someone was standing outside it on the porch steps. And it wasn’t Maria.

“Finally, you’re here,” the woman remarked. “I was starting to wonder whether you’d run away from Melinor or something.”

She stood with her hands in her pockets, wearing the same faded Chanel sweater she’d had on the first time Rachel saw her. As Rachel drew nearer, the woman scowled.

“Elena? I was just with Reba. She gave me a tour of the museum. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk with you.” Elena descended the steps, folding her arms across her chest. “It’s about Michael.”

The hair on Rachel’s forearms rose to attention at those words. What did this woman have to say about him?

“Yes?”

“He lost his memory years ago and never regained parts of it. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. You’ve been trying to get him to remember you.”

Rachel nodded. What was she getting at? “That’s right.”

“Why don’t you just give up?”

Now it was Rachel’s turn to scowl. “What did you just say?” She had to be kidding, right?

“It’s been weeks, Rachel,” Elena said. The woman took a step closer, her gaze locked on her eyes. “No, it’s been years , and he still doesn’t remember you. What makes you think you can change that?”

Defensiveness clawed its way up from Rachel’s stomach. “Well, he’s my boyfriend.”

She felt like some high schooler in love, but she didn’t care. Michael was hers. He’d taken her out on all those dates years ago. He’d given her the necklace. He’d told her how much he loved her while planting a trail of hot, wet kisses along her spine…

“Is he? He doesn’t seem to remember anything like that.” Elena’s lips curved into a smirk.

“What are you getting at?” Rachel asked, bristling.

“Look, I’ve known him ever since he arrived here three years ago. I took care of him while he tried to recover his memories. If you were any bit as important to him as you want to believe, maybe he’d have remembered you along with everything else.”

Her words cut into Rachel like a razor blade. The scowl deepened. An emotion she couldn’t identify fluttered in her belly. Was there something going on between Michael and Elena? From the first day they’d met, Rachel thought the woman didn’t like her. Her “mean girl” aura was visible from a mile away. Elena was the sort of person Rachel would’ve discussed with Diane until the therapist told her to take a breather. Heck, Sam would’ve been throwing hands at the woman by now.

But it hadn’t really dawned on Rachel that Elena might have feelings for Michael until now.

Possibilities flickered through her mind. Had anything happened between him and Elena in the past? Maybe Michael had feelings for the woman. The thought made her stomach churn.

“You expect me to give up on Michael?” It wasn’t much different from what Reba had told her back at the museum, but hearing it from Elena was a hundred times worse.

“I expect you to move out of the way,” replied the woman. “Nothing you do is going to make him remember you. You’re only confusing him with memories he can’t relate to.”

Rachel bit back the urge to hurl a slew of insults at her. “He’s my boyfriend,” she said again. “He’s the man I love. I’m not giving up on him.” Not again. “Michael is mine.”

Elena simply chuckled. “With his memory gone, I guess we’ll find out just how true that is.”