Eli yelled, “Man overboard!” and grabbed up two of his little brothers out of the way as the sleigh flew past, almost tipping over.
Greg cursed. “Get control of that thing.”
But I had zero control.
I hung on to the front of the sleigh as Prancer raced up the drive after the sandwich.
I used the clicker on my keychain to open the gates before the food-obsessed reindeer smashed into them, then we were off, bells jingling, hoofs pounding down the snowy country road into town.
And, I hoped to find Merrie if Prancer didn’t crash us into a snowdrift first.
83
Merrie
Ipushed through the crowd of people out into the front yard.
Horns were honking and people were yelling out of their car windows as a large reindeer pulling a bright red sleigh with Matt Frost and a rather carsick-looking St. Bernard fast approached. Police sirens wailed in the distance as I stared, astounded, as the sleigh pulled up in front of my house, narrowly missing an elderly woman on a walker climbing out of a large Buick across the street.
“That reindeer almost ran over my grandma!” someone shouted.
“Sorry,” Matt called out then waved to me. “Merrie, I love you.”
But the sleigh didn’t stop. Prancer kept galloping past my mom’s house.
“Prancer, turn around,” Matt yelled at the reindeer.
“Yoo-hoo! Meredith! I made you my famous heartbreak pie,” the elderly woman called, tottering down the sidewalk on her walker toward me, seemingly oblivious to the chaos on the street.
“It’s potato, leek, cheddar, and gouda,” the elderly woman said.
I grabbed onto her walker before she could fall. She pulled a checkered towel off the basket hanging from the walker. The smell of the freshly baked savory pie wafted in the air.
The hoofbeats paused then grew louder. Suddenly, a very hungry reindeer was licking my face and trying to grab his share of the pie.
A slightly soggy sandwich hit me in the face.
“Ow!”
Matt hopped out of the sleigh, which was haphazardly parked on the front lawn.
“Merrie —”
“It’s a magic pie,” the elderly woman steamrolled on.
I grabbed onto Prancer’s bridle and tried to keep him from toppling the old woman in his quest for pie.
“After my fourth husband left me for a young thing—she was fifty-five, can you believe it? The nerve of that man. Wouldn’t you know, I baked this pie, and not a day later I had a whole reverse harem of three hot young seventy-year-olds moving into my house.” She turned and peered through thick glasses at Matt, who was a perfect picture in the falling snow. “It worked! What’d I tell ya!” She gave me a light punch to the arm and handed me the basket. “You go get ‘em, girlie!” She shook me off her walker. “Is that grog I smell? You know I love a good grog. Where’s my granddaughter? Get me a cup.”
“Merrie,” Matt said again. He had to duck as Prancer narrowly avoided whacking him in the head with his horns as he tried to bite at the sandwich that was still dangling in the air.
Matt grabbed the fishing line, untied the sandwich, and fed it to the reindeer.
“Merrie,” Matt said again, “I love you. And I’m sorry.”
My eyes prickled. “I’m the one who screwed up. I should have believed you and after you were really nice to me.” I rubbed the toe of my shoe in the snow making a little white mound. “You can probably find someone better than me.”
“Doubtful,” Matt said wryly. “Who else is going to humor an ill-thought-out attempt at a grand gesture?”
