“Wonder what has her burning the nine-o’clock oil,” she joked. The familiar print of Grandma’s boots met her at the bottom of the steps and then wandered into the wilderness with another set coming into the yard from the opposite side.
“At least I know she made it home,” she mused. “Grandma?” she called softly as she entered through the front door so as not to wake Felix who usually slept on the back porch.
The cabin smelled like cinnamon and orange peels. Cinnamon from the pine cones they’d sprinkled with oil and used for decorations along with pine boughs and bright red ribbons. The look was old-fashioned and she loved it. The orange scent was from lunch. The rinds filled the bucket they used to take scraps out to the chickens.
The television was off and Grandma’s blanket was folded over the back of her chair.
Maybe she’d gone to bed?
And left all the lights on?
Not likely.
She tiptoed down the hall and peaked in Grandma’s room. “What in the world?” Pushing the door open all the way she stared at the clothes thrown with wild abandon on the bed and falling out of open drawers. “Grandma!” she said, more alarmed than the tightness in her throat allowed her to vocalize.
Running and stumbling over her own feet, she careened into the kitchen. This room was tidy. There was a note on the fridge and she yanked it off, sending the Santa-shaped magnet flying.
Dear Clove,
A very nice man is taking me and Felix on a road trip.
Love,
Grandma Hannah
“Wait! What?!” she yelled as she read the note again. What did she mean they took her AND Felix? Was this Grandma’s way of asking for help?
She went to the door and flung it open. “FELIX!” If the reindeer was within the sound of her voice, he would come within ten seconds. She counted her breaths as she waited. Nothing. No sound of reindeer paws pounding through the snow or branches breaking overhead as he flew to her rescue.
Just empty sky and lonely snow.
She slammed the door, making the pictures on the wall rattle. Digging her phone out, she called Grandma. It went right to voicemail.No. No. No.She tried again and got the same result.
The whole situation was fishy. Grandma wouldn’t up and leave–especially during the holidays. And what “nice man”? Grandma didn’t know any nice men—at least, not any that Clove didn’t also know. If it was one of the men from town or church, Grandma would have given her a name. She pressed her hand (closed into a fist around the note) to her forehead and tried to think. Did Grandma have a secret online dating profile? She almost laughed at the thought. The woman used a Kindle but rarely typed out an email or text, preferring to call.
Other questions raced through her mind like toy trains around a Christmas tree. Why would someone want to takeFelix? A better question was why FelixandGrandma? She could understand one or the other, but both? That was weird.
Then there was the big question: how were they going to transport Felix? He was as big as a buffalo—maybe not quite that big, but he wouldn’t fit in a regular trailer or the back of a pickup. Gosh! Did someone tranquilize him? She stopped herself from gasping. If they had, they wouldn’t be able to carry him down the hill without a tractor. He weighed 300+ pounds. She would have seen the trail they left on her way up, and she hadn’t seen a thing.
She groaned. She hadn’t been paying that close attention because she was daydreaming about the cowboy in the coffee stop. The man was too good to be true with his fitted jeans and name-brand jacket. Not to mention that hat! She hadn’t seen it on his head, gentleman that he was, he didn't wear it indoors. But that didn’t stop her from fantasizing about him smoldering at her from under the chocolate colored brim.
She should have been watching the path—not hummingI Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clauswhile imagining the cowboy waiting for her under the mistletoe.
The only reasonable explanation for the state of Grandma’s room and the note was that Grandma and Felix were in trouble and she’d left this note as a clue for Clove, hoping Clove would come after them.
“I’m coming, Grandma!” she yelled as she charged to the door. She slammed on her helmet and then paused. Was she really going to race down the mountain on her own? Should she call the police? She pulled up Allen’s number and dialed before she knew what she was going to say.
She could report Grandma missing, but then there was Felix. She couldn’t explain that Felix was a flying reindeer and, therefore special in ways that other animals were not. What if the kidnappers had tried to take Felix and only Felix and Grandma went along to make sure they didn’t hurt him? Her stomach clenched with fear and her brain flashed white.
“Clove?” Allen asked in a tone that said he had already said hello once. “Are you there?”
“Yeah. Uh. Hi, Allen.”
“Hi?” He said it like a question and she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t like she’d ever called him for anything other than to report animal sightings–like bears. And that was always in the spring.
“Is everything all right?” he prodded.
“No. Grandma’s gone.”
