With a plan in place, she felt like things were looking up for their little family.
Chapter Seven
Two days—two days of palling around town with Sid the mechanic, who hung out that the diner for breakfast, brunch, and then again at dinner—yielded nothing. The man was old and grizzly and hated working on cars, but he got to the shop every day by eleven. He had a good bead on what was going on in town and hadn’t heard a thing about a reindeer.
Forest walked from the diner to the town park. He had a to-go lunch tucked under his arm. One thing was sure: he was eating better now than he did on the trail. His pants, which had hung on him when he’d arrived, were already starting to fit better.
His lonely stroll was interrupted by a little girl. She couldn’t have been more than seven. “Excuse me?” Her eyes, as blue as a clear winter day in North Dakota, stared up at him. “Do you really know Santa Claus?” Word spread fast in this town. His questions about reindeer had combined with the boys’ story of his threat to call Santa to see which list they were on, and now he was a local celebrity with the under-eleven crowd.
He grinned as he adjusted his chocolate-colored cowboy hat. He’d kept the hat tucked away in the camper, wearing his black one in the rain and weather, so it had a nice shape to it. “I do.” Glancing around, he saw her mother standing a few feet away, a proud smile on her face. No doubt the girl was being brave, asking the question that weighed heavily on her mind.
She made eye contact with her mom, who nodded encouragingly. “How many reindeer does he have?”
“Well …” He pushed his hat back and scratched his forehead as if thinking really hard. “Last I checked, he had seventeen. But not all of them can pull the big sleigh on Christmas Eve. That takes a specially trained reindeer.”
Her eyes grew even larger, as if he were handing over trade secrets. Which he was—it was only the adults that didn’t know it.
“Part of my job is to train up the reindeer so they can work together.” He shook his head dramatically. “It’s not always easy.” He drew closer and whispered, “Reindeer can be stubborn.”
“My daddy’s stubborn,” she added. “My mommy says so.”
Forest laughed.
The girl’s mom rushed forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Emma. We need to get to the grocery store.”
Emma’s face fell. “But I wanted to hear about the stubborn reindeer.”
Forest barely held back his chuckle as the mom gave him a reproachful look. He shrugged in response. It wasn’t his fault her husband was stubborn. They bustled away. He watched for a moment, then noted the couple across the street whispering and glancing his way. He wasn’t sure being popular was a good thing.
His phone rang, and he answered for his dad. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” the old man boomed in his deep voice.
The sound of it filled Forest with a longing for home. Dad would have a fresh batch of pumpkin cinnamon rolls on the sideboard, just waiting for one of their hungry boys to wander through—didn’t matter that the boys were all men now. Mom’s Christmas-scented candles filled the air with pine and cinnamon. And then there was the tree all decorated in red and white, with the ornaments they’d made growing up dotting the branches. How she managed to keep the Cheerio wreath together over the years was incredible.
“How’s it going?” asked Dad.
Forest set his lunch on a picnic table and sat down on the cold metal bench. “Not great. I know she’s here. But either nobody knows or she’s been hidden away. Neither scenario helps me all that much.”
“Think you’ll be home for Christmas?”
“I don’t know, Dad.” He hemmed. “I thought so, but I can’t make any guarantees.”
“I wouldn’t expect a promise out of ya—not when you’re in uncharted territory.” Dad sighed. “In that case, I think I’d better give you some news.”
“Why am I suddenly wary?”
Dad chuckled. “You don’t have to be. It’s good. The best news, really. Caleb and Faith are expecting.”
His heart lifted for his brother. The two of them had been married last year, but they were more than ready to start a family together. “He’s going to make a great father.”
“I know.” Dad’s voice caught. “You should see your mother—she cries just about every day, she’s so happy.”
Forest laughed. “I’ll bet. When do we get to meet the little wrangler?”
“Before New Year’s.”
Forest surged to his feet. “What?!” Two turtledoves startled at his outburst and took flight. He paced. “How? I mean—”
