Chapter One
~Hannah Montgomery~
I stood in the middle of the market, staring at the twinkling lights shining from every vendor stall, listening to the string quartet music wafting on the air, and for the first time since leaving the airport, I fully exhaled.
It was hard to believe I was really here. After years of dreaming about spending Christmas in Germany, I’d finally arrived.
And yes, there had been some bumps in the road. My sister bailing on the trip at the last minute so I had to come alone. The airline losing my luggage. The plane landing too late for me to find an open bank that could convert my American money into euros. The hotel not having my room ready, so I couldn’t even check in.
But none of that mattered right now. Because right now, I was in a real German Christmas Market. And it was even more beautiful than I’d ever imagined it could be.
I walked slowly through the crowd, perusing the stalls and what they had to offer. I still didn’t fully understand the conversion rate of money, so I was hesitant to pull out my credit card and start swiping. But the temptation grew more and more the further I made my way through the square.
As I turned a corner, the smell of freshly baked sweet bread hit me, and I knew that temptation was about to win out. Fresh, buttery Christmas stollen was piled high on a table in front of me, and I silently prayed that they would take my Master Card.
“Akzeptieren Sie Kreditkarten?“ I asked the vendor, using one of the five phrases I’d managed to memorize before hopping on a plane to travel halfway around the world.
“Ja,” the woman said happily, already bagging up a loaf of the sweet, candied fruit bread for me.
Suddenly I was pushed forward from behind, my hips crashing into the table in front of me, causing everything to shake.
I whipped my head around and saw a man running flat out away from me, not even bothering to look back and see if I was okay.
Rude.
“Are you alright?” the woman asked me kindly, reaching over the table to touch my arm.
“Oh, you speak English,” I said with a laugh. “Yes, I’m fine. How much?” I reached into my purse and blinked in confusion as my hand passed all the way through and stuck out the bottom.
I wrenched the bag around and stared down to see that the bottom had been cut out and everything that had been safely nestled inside was now gone.
“That man stole my stuff!” I yelled, turning to run after him, but instead, smacked my face into a very solid chest.
“My men have gone after him,” the chest said in a deep, somewhat gravelly voice. Okay, so the man attached to the chest said it, but I was still staring a little too hard at the broad expanse of wool peacoat covered pecs to really focus my gaze any higher for a moment. “I am sorry we couldn’t get to you faster.”
I finally forced my gaze upward and felt my jaw slacken as I stared into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.
“Do not worry,” the man said kindly, giving me a soft smile. “My men are very good. They will find the thief and return your things to you.”
“My things,” I repeated slowly, my brain starting to unfog as I remembered what had just happened. “My things!”
I tried to step around the man, but he placed his hands gently on my shoulders, urging me to stay where I was.
“I have to go!” I insisted, pulling away from his grip. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” I bent over, resting my hands on my thighs as I fought to suck air into my lungs. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.
“If you give me your number,” the man said gently, bending over to talk softly into my ear as his hand made slow, calming circles over my back. “I can return your things to you when my men return.”
“My phone was in my purse,” I whispered, blinking back tears and trying desperately not to vomit on this man’s shoes. “With my ID, my passport, all my money and credit cards.”
And then, like a woman in one of those stupid Hallmark Christmas movies…I fainted into the strange man’s arms.
Chapter Two
~Hezekia Gruber~
I caught the hysterical American woman as she fell over, lowering both of us to the ground and resting her head on my leg as I brushed her hair out of her face.
“Shall I call ein krankenwagen Herr Gruber?” Essie asked in her broken English as she rushed out from her bakery stall to check on the fallen woman.