A gust of wind came up and tugged at Jack’s hat, still perched on her head. She needed to give it back to him, but the small-town girl inside of her didn’t want to. Maybe she hadn’t left home behind after all. Perhaps she’d been carrying it with her.
CHAPTERSIX
After the one day of Tinsel Town, Jack was ready to kick them all off the ranch and have his peaceful life back. The meeting with the animal rights specialist went fine. Gavin was a good man who had a thousand questions for Faith. They spoke the same vet language and were soon off in the side-by-side for a ride out to the herd.
Natasha disappeared right after they drove off, saying she needed to unpack.
And then Miguel somehow found out he was the rancher, and he spent the next three hours on a tractor moving trailers, pushing snow, and doing just about anything else the guy needed done to get them set up. He’d taken a plate of street tacos from the food truck and continued until he could hardly keep his eyes open.
He fell into bed, images of Nat in his cowboy hat teasing his dreams.
He had to get her out of his head; to do that, he needed to spend some time with the reindeer.
He snuck out of the house before dawn, his breath puffing out behind him like the steam from a locomotive. Tinsel Town was asleep, the windows dark, and no movement. He traced the moonlight on the tops of the trailers with his eyes, wondering which one was Natasha’s and if she was warm.
Though the place was dark, the giant generators they’d brought in to run the site rumbled, disrupting the quiet before dawn.
He opened the barn door and slipped inside.
The sound of snoring came from Snowflake’s stall. She’d be mortified if she knew she sounded like a cricket with a sinus infection when she slept. To his right was the tack room and a fireplace. A few logs burned low, the remnants of last night’s fire. The reindeer didn’t need it to keep warm, but Pax preferred to heat the place when he worked out here.
Walking as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing the residents, he took a moment to check on each reindeer.
Rudy, as usual, like to sleep on his back in mid-air. His nose glowed red, casting an eerie shadow across the far wall and ceiling. He had been born with an eye condition that had blinded him. Faith was able to surgically restore his sight. Now they were just working on his flying. He was one of the top contenders to join Santa’s crew at the North Pole. Unfortunately, he would never be one of their studs. They couldn’t risk his condition passing on in the herd.
Snowflake was next. She was curled up on a pile of straw in the corner. A year off the ranch brought wisdom. She and Billy had a special bond, and no one doubted Snowflake would help turn him into one heck of a wrangler one day.
There were several empty stalls, and he turned away from them, trying not to think about the days when they’d barely had enough room for fliers in here.
Crossing the breezeway brought him to Flash. He was a tiny black reindeer–faster than any reindeer in Santa’s stalls. The trouble with him? He couldn’t control himself at that speed and didn’t know how to slow down. For now, he was happy to race around their indoor track. One day, he’d have to decide if he was serious about joining the elite eight.
Next to him was Sparkle. She lounged on a pallet like a queen. Her large Elizabeth Taylor eyes, with their long, thick lashes, were closed, and she breathed easily. They knew something was going on outside–which was part of the reason Pax had stayed in here until everyone bedded down for the night. It was the only way to keep them safe.
Finally, he stopped at Dunder’s stall. The oldest reindeer on the ranch, Dunder, was also one of the most stunning and opinionated creatures to fly over the earth.
Jack leaned over the stall door, closed to give the reindeer privacy, even though he could hop over the top of it at any moment. Dunder was only a few inches from his face, and Jack jerked back, chuckling as his heart rate spiked and then settled. “You startled me,” he whispered.
Dunder huffed:You’re the one sneaking around my barn.
“Your barn?” Jack asked as he unlatched the door and let himself in. Dunder backed up, making room. Unlike the other males in the herd, Dunder never shed his antlers. They were stately and a source of pride for him.
Dunder cocked his head:What in the world is going on out there?He turned in a circle before settling down and folding one leg over the other.Go on; I’m listening.
Jack began telling him all about the movie, about Natasha, and how much he was worried that this was a mistake, but he wanted to do it for his dad.
Dunder listened.
“I wish he was up and going.” He sat next to the reindeer and ran his hand over his fur. “It won’t be Christmas without him.”
I know.
Content that he’d said all that was on his mind, he listened as Dunder’s breathing grew more profound, even. Jack’s breathing matched his, and soon he slumped against the wall, sleep taking his mind deeper into counting sugar plums.
In what seemed like one second later, the barn door banged open.
Dunder was on his feet, snorting at the door before Jack was fully aware of where he was.
He looked at the patriarch reindeer with his ears pinned back and his muscles tight, and jumped to his feet.
