“Is that a thing here?”
She shrugged. “Sounds like an Idaho thing to do. I grew up all over, so I’m not really sure.”
He filled the pot with water and then set it on the stove. “Why’d you move so much?”
“My mom was military. We went where she was stationed.”
“Where are your folks now?” He wondered if they knew the conditions Mitzi and Billy lived in, and if they’d tried to help.
“We aren’t on speaking terms.”
“Oh.” His brain failed to come up with an appropriate response.
“My ex was—well, he managed to turn my parents against us shortly before Billy was born. I sided with him, because that’s what I thought a good wife would do. I haven’t heard from them in years.”
Forest ached for her. “Your mom made cupcakes in ice cream cones for your birthday in the fifth grade.”
Mitzi’s eyes brightened. “How did you remember that?”
He smiled wide. “They had so much frosting. How could I forget?”
She chuckled. “When she was home, she was all about being Mom.”
Her gaze traveled to the window and beyond, where Billy and Snowflake played. They darted from tree to tree, sneaking up on someone only they could see.
After a moment, she broke out of her thoughts. Brushing her palms together, she said, “Looks like everything is on autopilot for a bit. Do you want to check out the sleigh?”
He waved a hand for her to precede him. “After you.”
They went halfway down the short hallway and opened the door to the garage. This part of the house must have been an addition sometime along the way. There was a step down to the garage that felt out of place with the rest of the layout. Mitzi flipped on the light. The space was chillier than the house, but with the door down, it wasn’t as cold as outside. At least he couldn’t see his breath in here. That would help, as his arm was sensitive to the cold. Darn cracked bones soaked it up like a sponge.
A giant blue tarp covered the sleigh. Mitzi began to pull it aside, and it caught on the seat. He grabbed one corner and lifted, and together they managed to get it all the way off. The seat was out of square, like it’d taken a hard hit when Snowflake landed. That was the most concerning. The other parts could be managed, but he’d need a place to plant his behind if he had any hope of controlling Snowflake in the air.
“You wanted this for Billy?” He ran his hand along the once-velvety bench. The fabric had gone stale and hard from sitting out in all four seasons.
“It doesn’t matter.” Mitzi moved to a worktable where she had tools, paint, and other supplies laid out.
“It does,” he insisted.
She sighed. “No. It’s obviously yours, and I’m not a thief.” She pointed to the logo on the back of the sleigh. “I actually can’t believe I didn’t think of the reindeer ranch when I saw this.” You’d have to stand behind the sleigh to see it, but it was there plain as day. “Besides, I’ve moved on from that idea already. So let’s get this thing done so I can get paid.” She waved a measuring tape at him.
“Deal.” If she needed the funds for Christmas gifts, then he’d gladly pay her up front. However, he’d already pressed his luck stocking her kitchen and didn’t want to push for more now. “Speaking of getting the sleigh done … Caleb thought it would be a good idea to give Snowflake a workout or two—just to see how well her leg’s healed.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I’ll need to take her into the forest.” He made eye contact and then quickly looked away. “I wanted to let you know so you didn’t think I’d run off with her or something.”
“I appreciate that.” She smiled softly. They were in this odd place with the reindeer. They both knew Snowflake belonged to him, but he let them keep her—for now. He didn’t know how long that would last, and frankly he was scared to ask. Not knowing was better than facing the ugly truth—that one day he’d have to tear this family apart. Not only would Mitzi and Billy be hurt, but Snowflake would be too.
They measured the side of the sleigh that was cracked. “Do you think we could reinforce it, or do we need a whole new panel?” he asked. She had quite a few tools, but not a planer or a router.
“I think if we brace it from both sides, it’ll hold it. At least until you get it home and one of your brothers can work on it. Which one was it who liked building things?” She wrote numbers down while she talked.
“Pax,” he replied. It wasn’t surprising that she remembered Pax liked to build. He was only three years younger than them, and he’d entered every contest in town that had to do with woodworking by the time he was ten. “He did the finish work on Caleb’s house. They sent pictures, and it’s incredible.” He found them on his phone and showed her.
She let out a low whistle. “Dude has skills.”
Forest bobbed his head. It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her to the ranch, to catch up with everyone, see how the place had grown, and meet a few of the non-flying reindeer, when headlights flashed against the wall.
