The instant Copper felt the slack, he surged. Red had just enough time to stumble back, pulling Benny out of the way as the horse tore free of the shafts. Snow sprayed in a white burst as he bolted.
But not toward the lodge, not even toward the creek or the woods.
Red’s heart dropped to his boots as Copper charged across the rest of the open meadow, straight toward the steep slope at the ridge.
“No,” Red rasped, breath fogging. “No, no,no.”
Beside him, Benny gasped. “Grandpa! He’s running down the hill!”
Red could only watch, frozen, as Copper disappeared over the edge.
For the first time since the day he held his lifeless wife in his arms, Red Starling felt utterly lost and terrified.
Cindy squinted at the invoice on her desk, wishing she had better reading glasses…and amuchbetter bank account.
Well, that would change with Henry’s contract, which should show up any day now. He said he wanted to “land the plane” before Christmas, and that was in a week, so…let’s land it, Henry.
She’d clicked her mouse to check her email when she heard the kitchen door open and felt a chill spread through the whole first floor. At the sound of a number of voices—some unfamiliar, one Jack’s, and one MJ’s—she rose to see if they needed help.
Coming around the corner to the kitchen, she saw a couple and two kids, all bundled in parkas and knit hats. They were laughing, their breath fogging in the air, stamping snow off their boots as they unwrapped scarves.
Jack was in carriage gear with his old-fashioned wool coat, the top hat off for the moment, standing in the mudroom with MJ, deep in conversation.
“Hello, everyone,” she greeted the guests warmly. “All ready for a sleigh ride?”
“We’re waiting for Santa,” one of the kids said. “And a sleigh.”
Cindy turned as Jack walked over to her, his expression hesitant. He came closer, leaning in to murmur, “The sleigh’s not here.”
Cindy blinked. “Where is it?”
“I let Red take it. Benny begged. They promised they’d be back with plenty of time.” Jack’s voice was calm, but his eyes carried something sharper—unease.
She glanced at the guests, happily chatting among themselves, patiently waiting for their scheduled ride.
“Did you call Red?” she asked.
“It’s going straight to voicemail.”
From the back, MJ produced a tray of goodies. “Cookies by the Christmas tree,” she sang out. “And while you wait, I’ll make hot cocoa with marshmallows.” She beamed at the smaller child. “Do you like marshmallows?”
“I want to meet Grumpy Santa and go on that sleigh,” he said.
Cindy frowned, wondering why so many guests said that about Santa. Was Red that grouchy to everyone? He hated the Santa gig, and Cindy knew it. But enough to not show for a ride, and take the sleigh?
The guests followed MJ like ducklings, drawn by the promise of food and warmth. Cindy leaned closer to Jack.
“Do you think something happened or he’s just on strike?” she asked.
Jack shook his head. “I don’t know, but it’s not like either of them. Red has bluster—it’s part of his act. But Benny’s the most reliable kid I know.”
True enough. Something wasn’t right.
MJ reappeared, giving Cindy a look that managed to be both reassuring and worried. “Gracie’s on her way home. I’ll call her to see if she’s heard something from them,” she said quietly, squeezing Cindy’s arm.
“Let’s grab the UTV and go look,” Jack said. “Come with me, Cin.”
Cindy nodded, hurrying to the mudroom to get her coat.
