The lights and the smells and the music and the opportunity to tell people you love them… It just doesn’t get better than Christmas.
Leanne parks on the side of the road and we get out of the van, my mind already racing. I’m already planning my story—where to stand, what to say, how to make everyone feel thatjoyous spark of Christmas. I know some people will be watching this story alone in their homes, not having anyone or anything special for Christmas. Hopefully, I can give them a little bit of joy.
Leanne tinkers with her camera and all of the gear, getting ready to record the segment.
My heart feels so full of excitement and joy as it starts snowing, those big, thick, lazy, slow-moving snowflakes that come drifting down like you’re in a magical snow globe.
This is going to be the best night of my life.
CHAPTER THREE
Boone
This is going to be the worst night of those peoples’ lives.
I grin as I sit at my kitchen table, planning it all out. I can’t freaking wait. This is the most excited I’ve been all year. Wildpeak Village will be a ghost town once again after I’m done with it.
No more traffic jams onmyroads, no more tourists floodingmytown square, and no more Labunews or whatever the heck those creepy things were called inmystores.
“Tonight,” I say with a grin. “Christmas is cancelled.”
My inner grizzly practically gasps inside me.
“Deal with it, bub. I’m restoring balance in this town.”
He whimpers, like I just told him Santa died.
I shove back from the table, grab my coat and boats, and head out into the cold. My truck is currently locked away at the damn impound lot, so I have to trek down the mountain on foot. With every step into knee deep snow, I get more excited, more determined, more ready to destroy Christmas for everyone.
I’m doing these people a favor, really.
They won’t admit it, but they’ll thank me one day. All these idiots smiling and jingling and giggling their way through December like brainwashed elves—they need a wake-up call. A reality check. A big, furry, roaring reality check. And tonight, I’m delivering.
The full moon hangs low, lighting up the trees with a silvery glow as I stomp down the trail. My breath fogs in thick white puffs. My boots crunch through the crusted snow. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Exactly the way I like my winters. Exactly the way it SHOULD be.
I’ll bring silence back to this town.
I’ll make them remember that this is untamed land. Wild and primal. These are savage mountains where nature rules. There’s no place for gingerbread food trucks, people dressed as elves, and garland, bows, and bells up here.
As we get closer, the smells of Christmas fill the air. It smells like hot chocolate, cinnamon, ginger, roasted chestnuts, and peppermint.
My bear practically swoons inside me, inhaling like he’s about to float away on a sugary Christmas cloud.
I grumble when I feel his excitement building.
“We’re not here for that,” I mumble to him.
The main road and town square is even more packed than it was this afternoon.Everyoneis out. Where do these damn people come from? Can’t they stay in their crowded cities and leave my town alone?
The entire town square is glowing. Twinkling lights everywhere. Kids running around with blinking red noses. Couples holding hands. Tourists snapping photos and smiling like doofuses. It makes my blood boil.
I look up at the huge dark pine tree in the middle of it all and grin.
They cut that beautiful tree down for this?
“I’ll get revenge for you,” I whisper to it. “Those lights will never come on.”
My bear is excited by all the people. He keeps perking up and running around inside, taking in all the scents, hoping to catch hers.
