All the things he’d wanted to say to her in that moment, like the fact that he knew Felix could fly, had slid down his throat like broken candy canes because the truth was that he needed her to like him enough to take Felix home.
Hannah told him all about Clove bringing Felix home one afternoon after reading by the lake. How the reindeer followed her like a puppy and made her laugh. How the sound of Clove’s laughter was the very thing that convinced her to let Felix stay–she’d not heard the teenager laugh before–not in the five years she’d lived there.
Which meant that Felix was Hannah’s reindeer. He may have followed Grandma this far but if he had to pick between them, he’d choose Clove and leave Drake here until the snowmen melted in the spring.
He didn’t have time to wrap his head around Clove’s life before Felix before Hannah had moved on to Felix’s eating schedule and preferences, his mischievous side, ability to sneak into the root cellar, and the other reindeer games he played. She was an excellent storyteller. Billy, Ryder and Aspen would love her.
Hannah’s continual chatter kept him from having to think about what would happen after they made it to the ranch. Dunder was an issue—one he wasn’t sure how to handle. A reindeer king didn’t take kindly to new males in his territory. He brushed that concern aside and had tried not to think about getting Hannah off the ranch once they settled Felix in with the herd. She didn’t say anything about going home for Christmas and he didn’t have a place for her to stay long term.
His mom would know what to do about that, so he pushed that aside too.
All in all, he’d done a great job of avoiding thinking about the consequences for his actions and chose to focus on the hope he hauled behind his pickup truck. No matter what he’d done, his family would forgive him—though they may not let him forget his stupidity.
As if summoned by his prophecy of their teasing, his phone rang and Forest’s name appeared on screen. He answered with a short, “Merry Christmas.”
“Ho Ho Ho,” Forest boomed. “Where are you, bro? It’s two weeks till Christmas and you’re missing everything.”
“I’m having truck issues,” which was putting it mildly. “I thought I”d be home tomorrow, but it looks like I’ll be in a repair shop.” He could kick the cashier stand. He was so frustrated.
“Peanut Butter fudge!” Forest Christmas cursed. “Do you want me to come get you? You can leave your truck for a month and we’ll go back in January.”
Drake pushed against the annoyed younger brother that lived inside of him. The last thing he needed right now was Forest riding to his rescue. “No thanks. I’ll deal with it myself.” His tone was one of burnt cookies and dried pine needles.
Forest paused before responding and in the silence, Drake heard him decide not to bite back. “Okay, have a great trip. Call if you need–er want to.”
“Okay.” They said goodbye and Drake hung up the phone, staring at the screen. Forest had done the same thing to him that he’d done when upset with Clove. Did he try his brother’s patience that much with his independence?
The cashier, Rory, came out from the back office. “Did ya forget somethin’?” He wore a red and black plaid flannel shirt and black jeans with brown work boots. His hair was two-months past a good haircut and he had three-day gray scruff on his chin.
“I wish,” he mumbled before speaking up. “We had a little run-in out there and I’m hoping there’s a repair shop in town.”
Rory set a box of individual-sized bags of Christmas Kisses on the counter and opened the top. The sweet smell of commercial chocolate wafted past Drake’s nose reminding him that Christmas was close and with it, the official close of the reindeer breeding season. “Well, now.” Rory scratched his neck, stretching it out like a turtle from his shell. “We’ve got a few guys who do that kind of work on the side.”
“Are any of them welders?” The dents in the side were something he could fix when he got back. The axel needed to be fixed right, or they’d end up in a wreck a few miles down the road. Ordering a new axle out here could take months–assuming the dealer had one in stock.
“If you’re looking for welding, that’s Otis.” He took his cell out of his pocket and thumbed through the contacts.
Drake did the same, readying his phone to accept a new contact. While he waited, a text appeared from his mom.
Mom: Gabriella, can you let your dear mother know you’re alive today?
He hurried to type back a reply.
Drake: I’m alive. Healthy. Dealing with truck problems.
He almost typed out that he could handle it on his own, but stopped himself and hit send.
Mom: Thanks. Love you. Glad you’re my son.
If his mom wasn’t so sincere, he’d think she was trying to lay a guilt trip on him. But she said that kind of thing to him all the time, so he knew it was his own guilt at leaving on Thanksgiving without saying goodbye that ate at him. She had every right to be angry with him and instead, she gave him room to have a tantrum of sorts. At least, that’s how this probably looked from her vantage point.
Drake: Me too. Sorry, I left without saying goodbye. I love you. Dad too. Will you tell him?
Mom: Of course. ??
Drake: Thanks. I can’t wait to give you your Christmas present when I get home.
Mom: Any idea when that’ll be?
