Raelynn dropped her frosting knife on the table. “I’m coming.” She darted after his nephew. “Come on, Jack.”
Jack was torn between helping Raelynn get into the Christmas spirit and staying with Natasha. Although, the fact that not one muscle of his moved to get up told him it wasn’t a contest.
Raelynn raced back and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”
“What if I stay here?”
“No! You have to come with me.”
“I’ll give you a sleigh ride.” He dangled the proverbial carrot in front of her nose.
She paused for only a moment. “How about we do story time, and I’ll go on the sleigh ride later.” She made it sound like she was doing him a favor.
Laughing, Jack grumbled to his feet. “Okay.” He threw an apologetic look over his shoulder, sticking his lower lip out. Natasha and Faith laughed at his dramatics. They had their heads together, whispering frantically before he turned back around.
What had he done? Introducing those two might have been a mistake.
Or, it could have been the best thing he ever did. After all, Faith was madly in love with his twin brother; she could only have good things to say about him.
Raelynn tugged him to move faster.
“I thought you didn’t believe in Santa,” he said.
“I don’t,” Raelynn whispered so the other children wouldn’t hear. “But she does.” She pointed at his mom.
“She certainly does. And for good reason.” He bopped her nose.
She spun around and sat with her legs crossed like all the other kids on the rug. Mom smiled at him, well aware of his Christmas project.
“It was a dark and stormy Christmas Eve,” she began her story, waving her arms and using a dramatic voice that drew the children into her tale.
Jack sat back and listened, content with her Christmas tale from long ago. It was quite the honeymoon on Reindeer Wrangler Ranch that year.
The only squirming child in the bunch was his nephew, Billy. Billy, of course, knew that reindeer could fly and that Mom’s story wasn’t made up but accurate. He all but burst with the knowledge, struggling to get out of him.
Jack knew that feeling all too well. The difference was that he’d had a twin to confide in, someone he could lean over and whisper a secret to relieve the pressure.
Billy survived by putting his hand over his mouth to hold it all in.
Bless his little soul.
As soon as Mom finished, Jack called, “Hot chocolate in the kitchen.”
The kids scrambled to their feet and pounded off to get warm refreshments. Billy stopped next to him, his eyes full of the truth. Jack patted his shoulder. “You did real good,” he said in a deep voice, letting him know that he’d been a man among children for a few moments.
Billy broke into a grin and ran off with the rest of the kids.
Raelynn hadn’t gone with the herd. She’d stayed and waited for Mom’s attention. “Is the story true or made up?”
Mom became as severe as the Naughty List. “Every word.”
“But,” Raelynn’s eyebrows pinched together. “You’re grownups. I don’t understand how you can believe in Santa—he’s for kids.”
Mom cupped her cheek as she explained, “Santa isn’t something you grow out of, like shoes or a car seat. He’s for everyone—even old geezers like me. All you have to do is believe.”
Raelynn frowned. “I have to think about this.”
“It’s easier to think with cocoa,” Jack offered, motioning toward the kitchen.
