“Son. We wanted to tell you in person. But you’ve been gone so long … time’s just slipped away from us. I had a talk with your brother, and we decided that it was better you knew than missed it all together.”
“If I don’t find that reindeer, I’ll miss it.” He could quit the search, go home, and welcome his niece or nephew into the family. But that would mean Snowflake would be on her own out here in the world. How much longer could she stay under the radar and be safe? Not to mention if someone found a flying reindeer, they might come looking for others. And what better place to look than a reindeer ranch? No. He had to finish this—not only to protect Snowflake, but to protect his family and their way of life. Speaking of that … “Hey, I found Snowflake’s sled. I think I can get it ready to fly. Do you think we could get a Kringle and spare reindeer to fly down from the North Pole? Unless Dunder is up to it.”
Dad was quiet for a minute. “I’ll call up north and see if anyone’s available. One of the younger reindeer would be better. Frost is out—the mail can’t wait a single moment in December. Stella too—toys can’t make themselves.”
“What about Lux?” The Kringle sister whose job was managing Christmas Magic had a steady workload. Well, except for the year when she’d almost blown up the North Pole.
“Maybe—but she hates flying.”
“Right.” He’d forgotten that about her. She was always so even-tempered and smart; until she stepped into a sled. Then her stomach was all over the place and she panicked.
“I think Ginger’s our best bet. Or her dad if he’s up for a quick trip.”
“Okay, just give me a couple days to get it ready.”
“Will do.”
They said their goodbyes, and Forest ate his sandwich as fast as he could. He had a sleigh to fix. Maybe Mary would let him park it in the barn behind the B&B. She had a soft spot for him, comparing him to the son that got away.
Keeping his eyes peeled for Snowflake, he made his way out of town on foot and then into the woods. He took a jingle bell out of his pocket and let it swing as he walked. The sound should call the reindeer to him if she was close.
An uncle. He was going to be an uncle. That was the biggest, best news he’d heard in a long time. For him, the desire to be a father one day was as natural as breathing. Family was important. Which should have made his decision to return home an easy one. But it wasn’t. He had to protect the ranch—especially if there was a new generation of wranglers to look after.
He hummed “Here Comes Santa Claus” as he turned toward the crash site. The closer he got, the more sound he heard.
“Of all the gingerbread men!”
He stopped short at the darn-near swear spoken with the sweetest voice he’d ever heard. Inching closer, conscious of the snow crunching under his boots, he craned his neck to see a figure hunched over, tugging on a rope tied to his sleigh. He frowned.
The woman grunted and groaned, and finally the sled began to move forward. Laughing at her success, she charged forward, drawing the sleigh with her.
Forest’s first instinct was to call out to her to get her mittens off his sled. But his better judgment stepped in, and he waited. If she wanted the sled, she may have a reindeer to pull it. The only reindeer that could do that was his.
He followed her at a distance. Her occasional unkind reference to gingerbread men made it easy to stay on her trail even when he lost sight of her.
It wasn’t long before they came upon a run-down single-story house in the middle of nowhere. The roof had a crazy pitch to it, making him think the whole thing might fall over in a stiff breeze. The siding was weathered and peeled back in some areas. The small garage, which seemed to be the woman’s destination with the sled, had an old-fashioned door that lifted in one piece instead of rolled.
Off to the east was a barn where a small flock of geese waddled in and out. He grinned. There was only one reason geese wouldn’t fly south for the winter, and that was if they’d made friends with a reindeer. His dad said that it was a “birds of a feather” kind of thing, but whatever the reason, those geese were a dead giveaway that Snowflake was in that barn.
He considered the gingerbread-hating woman and the sled. He’d gladly let her keep the sled if it meant getting his reindeer back—and being home before Christmas. He noted the lack of lock on the barn door. Well, that would make things easier. He’d sneak back over after dark and get Snowflake. For the first time since this crazy journey had started, he felt hope.
Chapter Eight
Mitzi couldn’t hold in her excitement. The sled was in the garage. Once she’d gotten it out of the ruts it’d sat in for almost a year, it had slid across the snow like a hot knife through butter. Snowflake would be able to pull the sled without a problem, she was sure of it—even with her and Billy aboard.
Christmas was looking up, and so were her spirits.
She’d hidden the sleigh in the garage, under a large blue tarp that Carla loaned her just for this purpose. When Mitzi confided her plans, Carla went into elf mode and handed over tools, wood, paint, and even fabric for the seat.
Billy was at the church, practicing for the Nativity scene. The preacher here did things a little differently; instead of holding a pageant on Christmas Eve, everyone in town set up their crèche in the church and the children provided a live Nativity on certain days of the week. Billy was a wise man tonight—although he pointed out that his companions were technically wise women, because they were girls—and he was excited to play his part. She’d gone over after work to take pictures and wave at him. He was so sweet in his bathrobe and crown, trying hard to look like he had a long journey to the manger in Jerusalem by wiping his forehead every so often.
So. Adorable!
Since she had some time, she planned to measure the sleigh and start a cut list. Once she had an idea what she was up against, she’d be able to work out a schedule to get it all done by Christmas Eve. Her veins thrummed with the excitement. It had been a long time since she’d looked forward to Christmas this much. She turned on her Elvis Presley Christmas playlist and hummed along with the King.
A song finished up, and she quickly became aware of another sound. Geese. Several of them, honking mad. They were better than guard dogs. The sound meant someone was in her barnyard. Carla was bringing Billy home, and her truck lights would have flashed across the kitchen. Whoever was there, they were not a planned guest.
Ely! Did he know about Snowflake? Or was he just trying to cause trouble for her because she’d told him off? No way. She’d been married to one bully, and she wasn’t about to let another one think he had a foothold in her life.
