Santa and the Snow Witch

by Linda Winstead Jones

  The drive to the EGG wasn’t a long one, and they made the trip in silence. She’d never been much of a talker, but her dad and her husband had both been charmers. They’d done enough talking for themselves and her and three other people.

  She’d loved her dad, she really had, but there were times when he’d been as full of shit as Rick had ever been.

  Luke parked in one of the spaces out front, then came around to open her door and help her down.

  The retirement village looked different at night. The grounds were always well-cared for, the building well-maintained, but at night the multi-colored Christmas lights framing the front of the building shone brightly, and the tree in the front window was lit.

  All they needed to complete the scene was snow.

  Once they were inside, Luke slipped off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the front entrance. The night manager who was seated at the front desk stood as they signed in. Tag Keen smiled at Luke, then nodded in Jordan’s general direction.

  Tag stepped around the desk to intercept Luke. “I meant to call you this afternoon but never got around to it.”

  Luke sighed. “What did she do?”

  For a second Tag looked surprised, then he smiled. “Oh, no, Helen has been fine lately. I just have a job for you.”

  “Sure. Tell me what’s broken and I’ll get to it as soon as I can.”

  “Nothing is broken, at least not yet. Frannie Smith is moving in after the first of the year. I’m going to put her in room 306, and I’d like you to make sure the oven in that apartment is not operational.”

  Luke nodded. It would be a relief to everyone in town if the era of Frannie’s funeral cake died. No oven, no funeral cake. “It might be right after Christmas before I get to it, but I’ll have it done before New Year’s.”

  Tag nodded again and reclaimed his seat. He was an ordinary looking man, a bit flabby, even, but she pitied anyone who tried to get past him. He was able to manipulate molecules and wasn’t afraid to use his powers to stop anyone who didn’t do as they were told, or even turn them around and make them leave, guiding them one step at a time. Jordan had heard the process was very painful. She had no desire to find out for herself.

  She took the elevator to the second floor with Luke, then followed him down the hall to Helen Benedict’s room. There was no need to knock, since the door stood open.

  Three women were seated in Helen’s living area. Helen, of course; Ginger Paine; and Ramona Adams.

  “Maybe we should come back another time,” Luke whispered, but it was too late. They’d been spotted.

  “I told you they were coming,” Ginger said, as Helen stood.

  “We don’t want to interrupt,” Luke said.

  “Nonsense. We’ve been putting our heads together about the Franklin Star issue.”

  Had they known Luke was going to ask for help, or decided on their own to take on the mystery? Either was possible.

  “Do you know where it is?” Luke asked.

  “I do,” Ginger said.

  Jordan wanted to ask if the missing star was the reason she couldn’t make it snow, but she didn’t want everyone knowing she was currently out-of-order. She was relieved. If the missing star was the reason she couldn’t make it snow, they’d soon know it.

  “Great.” Luke walked into the living area and faced the ladies, as his grandmother retook her seat. “Where is it? I’ll collect and replace it immediately.”

  Ginger, who had streaks of red in her long white hair and was thin as a rail, pursed her lips and lifted her chin in defiance. “Why should I tell you or anyone else anything? What has this town ever done for me? Maybe it’s best if we’re not blessed this year. Maybe that will speed along the inevitable death of Mystic Springs.”

  Her friends obviously did not approve of her stance. They also didn’t have any answers of their own.

  “Now, Ginger,” Ramona said in a calming voice. “Don’t be difficult. If the town dies, we’ll be spread all over creation. You with your son, I with my daughter, Helen with her son…”

  “Heaven forbid,” Helen muttered.

  “Besides, we want the town to be a good place for Felicity and Bria to grow up. They deserve to know what they are, what they can do.”

  Felicity was Ramona’s great-granddaughter, and her friend Bria Paine was Ginger’s great. Or great-great. Sometimes it was hard to keep up. Bria had only recently moved back to town with her parents and two brothers. She and Felicity lived on the same street and had quickly become best friends. The handful of kids in Mystic Springs had to stick together.

  Ginger looked at Luke and narrowed her eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

  “What do you want?”

  The elderly woman looked pleased with herself. “I’d like my own personal handyman for a week. My apartment could use a new coat of paint, and I’m having a terrible time getting all my Christmas decorations up this year.” She lifted a hand and flexed knotted fingers. “Arthritis.”

  Luke was quick to ask, “How about I hang your decorations right away and paint after the first of the year?”

  Ginger gave a bark of laughter. “What is this, Let’s Make A Deal? No. I want my place painted before I tell you anything.”

  Luke hesitated. It was a busy time of year for him, but damn it, they needed that star.

  “I’ll help,” Jordan said.

  Luke looked at her, pleading in his eyes.

  “I know how to paint,” she said. “I repainted the whole house after Dad died.”

  He looked to Ginger again. “I can’t convince you to…”

  “Nope,” the blackmailer snapped.

  After a long moment of quiet, Ramona said, “You should’ve asked for the light over your stove to be fixed.”

  “And fix my light!” Ginger said with vigor. She was enjoying herself far too much.

  “Fine,” Luke said, and then he turned and walked toward the door.

  “Come by tomorrow morning and we’ll talk colors,” Ginger called out. “I’m thinking pink. Maybe a pale green. I can’t decide.”

  Luke grumbled. As soon as Jordan joined him in the hallway he closed the door to his grandmother’s apartment.

  And then he cursed, long and low.

  Jordan laughed. “That bad?”

  “Yes. I can get Mike and Cindy to help out with the store, they always do this time of year, but I have a million things to do before Christmas Eve.”

  “None of it will matter if we don’t find that star.”

  They made their way downstairs and past Tag, barely acknowledging his hearty “Goodnight.” Luke grabbed his jacket from the coatrack without slowing down. When they were in the parking lot he said, “I’m thirty-two years old and I’m being blackmailed by my grandmother’s friends. No, not friends, cohorts. Partners in crime.”

  Jordan didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t wrong.

  He helped her into the passenger seat of his truck, took his place behind the wheel, and headed out, his thoughts elsewhere.

  Luke kept his attention on the road, so Jordan felt free to look him over. She checked out his profile, the set of his shoulders, his short brown hair, the stubble on his strong jaw. There was something about him, something appealing. Sexually, yes, he appealed to her in that way, but it was more than that. He was a nice guy. He was a friend to the town and everyone in it. If you needed a handyman, or a screwdriver, or a shoulder to cry on, he was there.

  Jordan hadn’t known many truly nice guys in her life. She’d loved her father, but nice was not a word anyone would use to describe him. At one time she’d thought Rick was nice, but she’d been wrong. He’d charmed and used people, including her.

  Of all the people in town, why had she gone to Luke with her problem? There were a number of logical reasons, but she could’ve just as easily gone to Eve, or one of her friends at the EGG, or even Ivy. Any one of them would’ve been willing to help her, if they could.

  But she’d instinctively gone
to Luke. She’d chosen him.

  “I have leftover roast beef, and lots of chocolate cake,” she said as Luke turned onto her street.

  “You sweet-talker,” he said with a smile.

  She was anything but a sweet-talker, she knew that, but she wanted Luke Benedict. Neither of them had a romantic attachment. As far as she knew it had been years since Luke had had a serious girlfriend, and she hadn’t even looked at a man since Rick’s funeral. There was nothing holding them back, no impediment to… to what?

  God, she was tired of being alone all the time. She’d wanted it, she’d asked for it, but it had gone on for too long.

  Jordan wanted to know if she was capable of feeling anything again, and she wanted Luke to be the one to show her.

  One way or another.

  Chapter 6

  There were plenty of leftovers. Together he and Jordan heated plates in the microwave and sat at the kitchen table to eat. Luke hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he started eating. Frustration worked up a big appetite.

  He dreaded facing Ginger Paine tomorrow, dreaded being on call for her until she decided to share what she knew. Maybe someone else knew where the star was and would be willing to share the info without insisting on payback. Unfortunately he didn’t have time to search for that someone.

  “You’re a good cook,” he said as he stood to take his plate to the sink.

  “I learned from my father,” Jordan said. “Now, he was a great cook. My mother, not so much.” With that she laughed a little. It was a good laugh.

  When she moved to stand beside him, his entire body reacted. The last thing she wanted or needed was a guy making a move on her. She’d made that clear since coming back to town. She’d made it clear last night when she’d run away from a kiss. She liked being alone.

  Best to get out of here while the getting was good. “I’m going to pass on the cake and…”

  “Don’t leave,” Jordan said, her voice so low he almost didn’t hear her.

  Don’t leave could mean a lot of things. Did she want to talk about her problem, his grandmother and her gang of blackmailers, or was there more? He wanted it to be more, but damn it, she had to make that clear. Another almost-kiss would break him.

  “I need to talk to Mike about watching the store and get together what I need for tomorrow, and…”

  “Do you have a girlfriend I don’t know about?” she asked, her voice too quick and soft. “I just want to be sure before I…”

  “Before you what?” he asked when she faltered.

  “Do you?”

  He shook his head. Their bodies shifted so they were facing one another. “No,” he whispered. “There hasn’t been anyone serious for a while.” He had to think back. Had it been two years? Three?

  “Why not?” Jordan asked. “You’re handsome, nice, successful… handy.”

  He smiled, and then he didn’t. “I’ve never met a woman who needed me more than she needed anything else.”

  She kissed him, then. No hesitation, no slipping away before their lips met. As her mouth moved over his he wished he could see what she needed, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Was it because she didn’t need anything, or was she simply too close for him to read clearly?

  Close in a way no other woman had ever been. So close she was almost a part of him.

  He wrapped his arms around Jordan and pulled her in. She wasn’t warm, but he could almost swear that at this moment she wasn’t as cold as she’d been the last time he’d touched her hand. She molded against him; her body fit against his perfectly. It was everything he’d imagined it could be when she’d started to kiss him last night. It was everything he wanted and needed.

  The kiss deepened, she made a noise deep in her throat…

  And the doorbell rang.

  “Ignore it,” he said as Jordan pulled away.

  “I can’t.” She left — reluctantly, it seemed — and headed for the living room and the front door. He counted to five and followed.

  Ivy had already come into the house. When she saw him she said, “I saw your truck in the driveway. What’s going on? Have you found anyone who knows where Granny Pearl’s star is?”

  “We have,” Luke responded.

  Ivy sighed in obvious relief. “Great. Where is it? Do you need help fetching it? That star has to be in place for Christmas Eve.”

  “Ginger Paine said she knows where it is, and she’ll tell us after I paint her apartment and fix a broken light.”

  “Don’t forget about the decorating,” Jordan added.

  Ivy’s face fell. She shook her head and said, “You’ll do all that and she won’t tell. She’ll string y’all along and then say screw you, sucker.”

  “She won’t…” Jordan began.

  “Oh, she will,” Ivy interrupted. “She probably doesn’t know shit. If she knows, why doesn’t she just tell now and let you paint later?”

  “I suggested that,” Luke said. “She didn’t go for it.”

  “I’ll pay her a visit…”

  “No,” Luke and Jordan both said, in stereo.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said. “We have a week.” Eight days, to be exact, until the town held their annual Christmas Eve party. There was a lot to be done in those eight days.

  The doorbell rang again. With a sigh, Jordan opened the door to Eve, looking almost identical to her twin sister but with a less angry set to her face. She stepped inside. “I saw Luke’s truck in the driveway. Is everything okay?”

  It occurred to Luke that the sisters had never before seen a man’s vehicle in their neighbor’s driveway. Were they protective of Jordan? She didn’t need protecting from him, and they should know that. Naturally they were both curious about what was going on with their search for the star. Yeah, that was it.

  “I’m going to go,” he said, figuring it would be a while before Jordan was able to get rid of her visitors. He wanted to kiss her before he left, just a simple, short kiss, but he didn’t. She looked skittish at the moment, uncertain. “I have a few things to do in the morning, so I’ll pick you up around eleven.”

  Jordan nodded, and Luke said goodbye to the Franklin twins. Once he was outside, he cursed at his truck.

  Next time he came to Jordan’s house, if there was a next time, he was going to walk.

  She was cold.

  Jordan got out of bed and fetched a blanket from the back of her bedroom closet. How long had it been since she’d felt the cold, since she’d felt anything?

  When Luke had kissed her — well, technically she’d kissed him, but he had very quickly responded and kissed her back in a complete and powerful way she had not entirely expected — she’d tingled from head to toe. Her spine had itched; her knees had gone weak. And she’d felt a chill. Nothing major, nothing startling, just a momentary chill. A block of ice couldn’t feel a chill, the ice was the chill. Only something warm could be chilled.

  She hadn’t been warm for a very long time.

  The events of the day played through her mind. In the past couple of days she’d been more socially engaged than she’d been in years. In Dallas she’d tried to be active in the community, though she was such an introvert it had never been easy for her, but since coming back to town she’d made an effort to isolate herself.

  If she lived long enough to move into a retirement community, would there still be an EGG? Mystic Springs was still in danger; she and everyone else in town knew it. Could she be called Extraordinarily Gifted in any way? They might not even let her in; she might not qualify. More importantly, would she have friends the way Helen had Ginger and Ramona? Those three were thick as thieves, playing cards, telling tales of the old days, getting into mischief.

  Jordan’s old days were boring, not worth reliving. Striking her cheating husband dead with lightning wasn’t boring, she supposed, but she hadn’t done it on purpose and she certainly didn’t want to relive the moment.

  She’d never in her life gotten into mischief.

  Maybe it was time.
>
  All her life, she’d lived by her father’s rules. She’d done her best to meet his expectations, to be a good girl, to make good grades, to help him when he needed it, to stand beside him through the hard days after her mother’s sudden death, when they’d both grieved for the woman who’d died too soon. Even a gifted Springer could have a bad heart.

  When she’d moved away years later her father had not been happy, but he hadn’t tried to stop her, either. She’d wanted to know, had to know, what it was like to live away from Mystic Springs, to exist in a world without magic, to be on her own. Her father had been sure she’d be home in six months, but he’d been wrong.

  She hadn’t been in Dallas long before she’d been swept off her feet by a man who’d said he loved her, who’d married her, who’d claimed her. And then she’d lived by his rules and done her best to meet his expectations.

  Those days were not ones she’d want to relive in her later years. She was sick and tired of living her life working so damned hard to please someone else.

  Luke could be considered mischief, she supposed. He was out of her comfort zone, not in her plans. As far as she knew he had no expectations of her. None.

  She didn’t go back to bed, but took the fluffy blanket into the living room and sat on the couch a while. Her mind was spinning, there was no way she could sleep! There was nothing on television, so she scrounged up a radio and searched until she found a station playing nothing but Christmas music. Half an hour later, she went to the garage for her Dad’s box of Christmas decorations.

  By morning, she had a tree in the window and two wreaths hung outside. Her mother’s Christmas angel was placed on the coffee table in the living room, but she couldn’t bear to display her Dad’s favorite ceramic, snowy town, not while she was unable to make snow herself.

  It was late when she fell asleep on the couch, to the strains of a Perry Como Christmas song and in the glow of the white lights on her half-decorated tree.

  She dreamed of mischief.