Once she’d hidden in her room, she replayed the scene over and over again.
He’d stared at her lips as if they were gumdrops he wanted to nibble on.
She touched them with her fingertips. They tingled in anticipation of a kiss that would never happen. She was not here to kiss a thief, a kidnapper, a reindeer wrangler, or any other side of Drake he decided to show her.
But she wanted to.
She’d wanted it at that moment, and she wanted it now.
The sensations Drake stirred inside of her made her want to climb out of her own body and fly through the star filled sky like Felix.
Who was Drake to make her feel this way? He wasn't anything special. Just a man full of contradictions. He justified kidnapping and yet made snow angels. He argued with her and yet made her giggle with abandon. He dressed like a cowboy and tamed reindeer.
What even was a reindeer wrangler, anyway? She’d never heard of the job title until him. He probably made it up to impress women.
The water cut off and her brain conjured up the image of Drake in a towel, water dripping off his wide shoulders.
She dropped her head back and moaned. This was So. Not. Good. She needed to get her mind off of Drake and onto something productive.
But what?!
It wasn’t like there was anything to do in this small town, nor in this house. At the cabin, there was always a project. The beeswax lotion bars and face creams would keep her busy for several nights. If only she had her supplies.
Grandma brought her knitting, but there was no way Clove would ask for lessons. She’d tried several times and was all pinkies when it came to yarn and needles. They said there was no knot that couldn’t be undone, but she’d proved them all wrong and then some.
There was a wall of puzzles and board games and books downstairs, but she didn’t want to be caught by Drake again. She wasn’t ready to face him and the feelings he shook up like a snow globe. She felt rather helpless against them–especially when he’d tickled her side.
She couldn't remember the last time she’d been tickled.
It felt forbidden and silly and like she was young and free of all the adult worries that plagued her since she was eight and Dad dropped her on Grandma’s doorstep. Before that, actually. As one of them had to be an adult and it wasn’t going to be her father.
She grabbed her phone and looked up the Reindeer Wrangler Ranch social media. Drake’s brothers filled the feed–she could tell they were related by the shape of their eyes and the width of their shoulders. Were they all built like that? Sheesh! Working a ranch did a body good.
“Hey Reindeer Fans!” chirped a beautiful young woman in a red pea coat and cream hat. Her thick mittens matched the hat, and she smiled widely. “I wanted to take you out for a morning feeding. We’re going to speed things up. I hope you enjoy it as much as the reindeer do.”
What followed was a time-lapse of a wrangler loading feed onto the back of a flatbed trailer, driving through an open gate, stopping to shut the gate, and then driving through the field, dropping feed off the back of the truck. Everything was set to the Beach Boys version of “Little Saint Nick.”
There were shots of the woman smiling and waving from the driver’s seat, the wrangler pretending to surf in the back of the truck, and reindeer chewing their food or prancing across the field.
She sighed. The scene was so happy. So content. The video ended with the man holding mistletoe over his head as he stole a kiss from his giggling wife. He looked like Drake, but a little lighter in coloring. His eyes were different too, hazel instead of Drake’s intense brown.
A soft smile graced her lips, and she spent the next half hour watching as many reindeer videos as possible, trying to catch a glimpse of this family of handsome men and the women who charmed them.
The next video featured his parents. His mom had long, gray hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her smiles included both upper and lower teeth and her laugh lines were like ornaments on a Christmas tree–they added to her natural beauty. His dad had a full Santa beard and a large face. His shoulders sloped with age, but his blue eyes sparkled. He wore a cream colored felt hat and a denim coat lined with fleece.
“Ho Ho Ho,” he chuckled, his voice like hot cocoa on a cold day. “Welcome to Reindeer Wrangler Ranch.”
“We’re the only ranch in North America with permits to house this breed of reindeer and we couldn’t be prouder of our herd,” added his mom. Her name appeared in the lower right corner and Clove squinted to see. Anna. That was a pretty name, and it fit her perfectly.
“We had a banner year of births and are up to 350 head this year,” said Abner.
Clove paused the video and studied him. Abner seemed nice. Soft and yet tough. Like the type of man who was humbled by working the land and knowing he was at the mercy of nature and God. She restarted the video and watched Abner closely. Then she did it again. With each viewing, she liked him more. Which was silly. She didn't know the man.
She knew his son, though–kind of.
When that video was over, she looked for others that featured Abner, obsessed with the notion of a father who stuck around and raised his children, and found one during the herd’s annual vaccines. He joked with a reindeer named Apples, doing a dance with her.
“If we could get you two to learn one of the TikTok dances we’d have a viral video,” said the voice behind the camera. It sounded like Mitzi, the same woman who did the video about the morning feeding with her husband.
