He pulled the metal screen door open with a squeal of protest and then pushed the thin wood door in. What a cumbersome way to get into a house. Both Billy and Mitzi watched him as he struggled to take off his coat and hang it on the hook. This conversation might take a minute. “I talked to Snowflake—she wants to stay.”
“Yay!” Billy threw his arms in the air.
To his relief, neither of them questioned the fact that he’d just said he had a conversation with a reindeer. “Unfortunately, it’s not as easy as just saying yes.”
Billy bit his bottom lip. The kid was as dedicated to Snowflake as she was to him. Kind of reminded Forest of himself at that age. He’d loved the reindeer—still did. Lucky for him, he was born into the Nicholas family and guaranteed a place on Reindeer Ranch.
Before he could work up enough sympathy to switch sides in this argument, he focused on Mitzi. That was a mistake. Her large green eyes were rimmed with tears she fought to hold back. The red contrasted beautifully with the Christmas green that he found himself caught in them. Forest’s gut ached to ease her pain, even though he was the one causing it.
He pushed on, wanting to rip off the Band-Aid and get this over with. “Dad agrees we have to follow the rules on this one—but we have some time. Maybe we can figure out a solution that would benefit everyone.”
“So she’s not leaving?” Billy asked.
“Not yet.” Forest hated that his answer wasn’t good enough. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. A reindeer belonged with her herd. Besides, Mitzi didn’t have the resources to take care of Snowflake like they did. Her open cupboards were practically bare, and when she turned from him to put the milk away, he found that the fridge was just as empty.
His dad’s words came crashing back: A bigger picture …
A timer went off on Mitzi’s phone, and the two of them mobilized in chaotic effort to get Billy out the door in time for school. He blurred past Forest, not saying goodbye, and made the door squeal on his way out.
When he was down the steps and on the path, Mitzi turned to Forest. Hugging herself, she seemed to be in a state of resignation. “Do you want some breakfast?”
And take food out of a kid’s mouth? No way. “No thank you. I don’t usually eat breakfast.” His stomach growled, giving away his lie.
Mitzi eyed him and then picked up a couple papers that had fallen out of Billy’s backpack. “I can drive you to your truck on my way into work.”
Forest found himself curios about Mitzi and her life here in Idaho. “Where do you work?”
“The hardware shop.” She dropped all the papers in the garbage.
“That’s …” His mind spun. He’d planned on going there today to get supplies for the sleigh. What if he’d gone there first? What if they’d bumped into one another without all this between them? He hated that he’d never know the answer to those questions.
A bigger picture … The words echoed through his mind, and he tried to see things from another point of view. She needed money. He had money. What he didn’t have was two working arms. She had arms. The sleigh that was already parked in Mitzi’s garage. An idea was slowly forming. “Do you build things?” he asked before he had a handle on the plan.
“I do.” She patted the farm table Billy sat at.
Forest looked it over. It wasn’t fancy, but it was well done, with joints that lined up properly and a fine stain job. Yeah, this might just work. “I’m not sure how to say this …”
“Just spit it out.” She wrung out a washcloth and began wiping down counters. “I don’t have the time, energy, nor patience for beating around the bush.”
He smiled to himself. That was another trait he looked for in a woman—direct. Not that he was looking for a woman. Darn Dad for putting thoughts in his head. “I know you have our sleigh in your garage.”
Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her head. “Sorry about that. I-I was going to fix it up for Billy for Christmas.”
He nodded. Smart thinking on her part. “At least you didn’t put the sled before the reindeer.”
A smile ghosted over her lips and was followed by an awkward pause.
“Anyway …” He cleared his throat. “You’re right in that it needs repairs. Since I’m not currently able to work power tools …” He pointed to his throbbing arm, which was getting worse by the minute. He really needed to take something. “I’ll happily pay you to do them.”
She stopped. Different emotions flitted across her face. Mistrust. Interest. Relief. “Deal.” She held out her hand for him to shake.
He took her hand and a buzz went up his arm. It felt like one of those massage chairs, except instead of lulling him into relaxation, it jolted him alert.
“We can start tonight.”
“Perfect.” He nodded, feeling like he was on the right track. “Wait—we?”
“Yeah. It’s your sleigh. If you’re not around, I might just paint it pink.”
