The Secret Santa Project

by Carol Ross

  “This is what your life has become?” Cricket wryly observed. “Basing your hotel choices on the condition of the pool.”

  “No!” Bering exclaimed with exaggerated defensiveness. “Not at all. The breakfast is important, too.”

  Cricket gave his head a sorry shake. “Hopeless.”

  “Totally.” Bering chuckled with a kind of dreamy look on his face. “That’s what happens when you have kids. It used to be about whether they had a nice restaurant or a spa for Em but not anymore. Now it’s all about the pool and if the continental breakfast has a waffle maker. You’ll find out eventually. Maybe.”

  Not at the rate he was going. A family of his own, kids specifically, had never been a high priority for him. Hazel, he knew, felt the same. He’d always respected how she wasn’t 100 percent certain about motherhood herself. She’d told him once that it was a decision that required thorough analysis and total commitment—from both partners. Precisely how he felt about parenthood, too. He wondered if she and Kai had had that conversation yet. The thought of Hazel having children with anyone else was... He couldn’t think about that right now. He was already concerned about the current uptick in his blood pressure.

  “I’ve heard the Ptarmigan Inn is nice,” Bering said.

  Kai nodded zealously, like a bobblehead doll on a bumpy back road. “That’s near the top of our list. Reviews are good. Slight concern about its remote location. You have to get there by boat, although people might enjoy that aspect. Especially if we incorporate it into the experience.”

  “There are a lot of places we would have to access by boat, or possibly even plane,” Cricket said, trying not to allow his growing impatience to creep into his tone but knowing he was failing. “Alaska is like that.”

  Kai gave a hearty, “Sure, I get that.”

  Something occurred to him as he studied the list. “I don’t see Grey’s on here. I always stay at Grey’s when I’m anywhere near Denali.” Grey’s Lodge was a high-end resort and spa with a Michelin-rated steak house.

  “Gorgeous pool,” Bering reported. “Two pools, technically. And the most incredible porterhouse steak I’ve ever eaten.”

  Cricket agreed about the steak. “One of many, many reasons that I like it. The views are phenomenal, too, and the—”

  “Grey’s is out of our price range,” Kai interrupted with an exaggerated cringe. “Unfortunately,” he quickly added when Cricket frowned.

  Hazel backed him up. “Kai is right. We’ve already ruled out the high-end destination-type resorts.”

  Perky Kai went on, “But places with a similar type of Alaskan flair would be the ultimate goal. Even somewhat rustic would be good. Rustic-looking, anyway. We still need decent amenities.”

  “And,” Hazel chimed in, “we have to be able to provide breakfast if the hotel doesn’t.”

  Resentment churned inside of Cricket as he wondered if they’d practiced this snappy back-and-forth routine.

  “Like Grey’s does?” he retorted, feeling, and possibly sounding, unreasonably perturbed.

  Hazel shook her head. “That degree of luxury is not necessary.”

  “But I thought we were catering to the luxury traveler?”

  “We are, sort of...” Kai reassured him with a tad too much patience as if Cricket were a willful elementary student.

  He countered in a similarly exaggerated tone, “If people want to go camping, Da—uh—Kai, they can sign up for one of Bering’s excursions.”

  “I would love to,” Kai conceded pleasantly. Another gesture, Cricket surmised, designed to placate him. But only managed to annoy him more. “I plan to.”

  When Cricket scowled, Kai hastily said, “I totally understand your point. But an Our Alaska tour isn’t going to come with much downtime, is it? Tour members aren’t paying to stay in the room. They’re paying for an experience. I guarantee that people will be much more interested in what’s going on outdoors than indoors. Grey’s could be a vacation all on its own.”

  “Which is why it’s so appealing,” Cricket reasoned unreasonably.

  “The cost would be—”

  “But shouldn’t every aspect of the tour be a part of the experience?” Cricket interrupted. “Including the lodging?” He could hear his tone crossing the line into argumentative, and he knew he needed to dial it back.

  “Yes, to a point,” Hazel interjected, and Cricket couldn’t help but think she was coming to Kai’s rescue. “Maybe we should talk about that now—your brand. Kai and I have already discussed this at length, and to us, an Our Alaska tour should be an authentic yet accessible Alaskan experience.

  “Like a safe and comfortable adventure. Your goal is to show the outdoors to people who might have the desire but not the ability to get out there and live in it like we do. A taste of the rugged versus the actual roughing it they’d get with an excursion through Bering’s guide service. Electricity, hot water, good food. Comfort. A soft bed, sure, but maybe one with rough-hewn logs overhead and the sound of an owl hooting outside. Think gourmet coffee on the deck while a bear or a moose grazes off in the distance. Close enough to photograph but too far away to touch.”

  Pausing to chuckle, she then added, “I keep thinking about the type of tour Iris would like. She’s our gold standard here.”

  Unlike the rest of her family, Iris saw no point in camping out or otherwise “eschewing a decent bed and a proper meal.”

  “I see what you mean,” Bering agreed with a chuckle. “So, how do we choose?”

  “We’d like to see some of these places, talk to the owners or managers, get a feel for them and discuss group rates, discounts, meal options, etcetera. Plus, there’s nothing like a personal experience, especially from multiple points of view.”

  “Makes sense. When and where?”

  “As soon as possible. We’d like to start in Juneau. The Coastal Gold Tour, as we’ve tentatively named it, is going to be the most specialized of your signature tours. There aren’t as many lodging options there, so we need to nail those down. If we add a day in Gold Bend as you’ve suggested, we need to make sure that’s feasible. So, the sooner, the better.”

  Bering grimaced. “My flight to DC is set for Thursday. Once again, I’m afraid I’m not going to be much help until I get this federal concession problem squared away.”

  “We understand, Bering,” she conceded. “But, Cricket, you can come with us, right?”

  Cricket could not think of a single thing he’d like to do less. Caught off guard and flat-out flummoxed, he answered the only way he could with Bering, Hazel and Kai staring at him expectantly and no excuse readily available. “Uh, sure, as long as it doesn’t snow three feet in the mountains.” Please, he begged the universe, let it snow.

  “We’ll go ASAP.” Hazel nodded. “I’ll make arrangements.”

  “Hey, you’re flying to Juneau on Thursday, anyway, aren’t you?” an unhelpful Bering reminded him.

  He was, with Ashley. But he would not disclose the details of that mission with Kai, or Hazel, or anyone else for that matter. It was Ashley’s private business. And he’d never cancel on her now; they’d been planning this for weeks.

  He’d just have to figure out a way for them to peel off for a few hours. Copper Crossing had a flight scheduled out of Juneau that day. If they timed it right, Ashley could see to her task and then catch that flight back to Rankins. He couldn’t see how to explain all of this that didn’t involve a lot more explaining than he cared to do. Plus, he needed to run this by Ashley first. She might not want anyone along, and Cricket would respect that if that was what she chose.

  “Yes,” he answered. “I can fly us. Probably be easier if you guys are comfortable with me being your pilot?” And so much faster. The less time he had to endure this third-wheel torment, the better. “Let me check on a couple of things first, and I’ll let you know tonight.”

 
Thinking the situation through had him hopeful this two-birds-with-one-stone excursion could work. There was no love lost between Hazel and Ashley, but at this point, having another person along would be helpful. He almost laughed out loud because he’d thought that about having another employee around, too, hadn’t he? And look where that had gotten him. This general mood of grumpy impatience was definitely not what he’d had in mind for Hazel’s ideal holiday.

  To Kai, Hazel asked, “You okay with flying in small planes? Cricket is the best pilot in the entire world. Not even exaggerating.” Pointing a finger between Bering and Cricket, she added in a teasing tone, “If either of you tells Tag I said that—you will regret it.”

  “You bet!” Kai said with over-the-top eagerness. “Sounds like an adventure.”

  Cricket wondered how anyone could be that enthusiastic all the time.

  “Perfect. Thanks, Cricket,” Hazel said, gracing him with a brilliant smile, the one that made her eyes sparkle, and even managed to mitigate his irritation slightly.

  * * *

  POKER NIGHT ROTATED from house to house, but in an informal, haphazard manner. Often, like this evening, it ended up being most convenient for Cricket to host. He was the only single guy left in their group, the core of which consisted of Bering along with his brother-in-law, Aidan, brothers Tag and Seth, and their brothers-in-law, Jonah, Tate and Flynn, married to Shay, Hannah and Iris, respectively. Hannah was a semiregular attendee, too, and, when she played, could generally be counted on to take all their money. Except for Cricket’s, which drove her nuts.

  Cricket enjoyed being the anchor. And he was a good host, if he did say so himself. His roomy three-bedroom house had an open floor plan, including a spacious dining room with a large round table, perfect for card playing. He made a mean pizza, excellent lasagna, a delicious, hearty stew and the best loaded quesadillas. He rotated the four dishes while the guys supplied beer, soda and snacks. Both Emily, Bering’s wife, and Janie, Aidan’s wife, enjoyed baking and usually sent along a dessert or two.

  “Three of a kind,” Cricket said, revealing his trio of kings. Tonight, he really needed this time with his friends.

  How could Hazel believe Mr. Clueless was her Secret Santa? He hadn’t even known about her upcoming stint at El Capitan. Frankly, he didn’t seem to know much about her at all. At least not the good stuff, the important little details that a boyfriend should know.

  “Full house,” Tag said, flipping over a jack and a nine to match the jack and two nines already showing.

  “Oh, man!” Tate groaned, tossing his pair of queens onto the pile. “You are so lucky tonight.”

  “Ah, the thrill of victory is so very sweet,” Tag boasted, sliding the massive pile of chips from the center of the table toward him, where it joined the small fortune he’d already amassed. “You losers should try it sometime.”

  Tag looked at Cricket. “I thought maybe you had me there. You and your poker face. Good thing I know you better than anyone else, and I’m a better cardplayer.”

  Cricket chuckled. He couldn’t resist returning with a gibe of his own. “Yeah, well, another one of your sisters thinks I’m a better pilot than you are, so it’s nice that you can play poker. Everyone needs to be halfway good at something.”

  “No way. Which one?” he demanded indignantly.

  “It’s totally true!” Bering supplied and then laughed, hard. “Hazel said it—I heard her. I was hoping you’d mention it, Cricket, so I won’t be in trouble for telling him. It’s too good to keep to myself.”

  “That’s just great!” Tag plopped his beer bottle down on the tabletop. “First, one of my little sisters asks you to teach her how to fly, and now another one is just dissing me outright?”

  “Don’t forget about the sister who asked him to go into business with her,” Bering gleefully reminded Tag about Hannah.

  Silently, Cricket acknowledged that there were reasons for all three of these occurrences. Hannah had asked him because Tag already had his own business, Iris hadn’t wanted anyone to know she was taking flying lessons because she wanted it to be a surprise and Hazel had been complimenting him to convince Kai to fly with him. But none of that was relevant when ribbing a boastful Tag was the point.

  “Don’t sweat it, buddy,” Jonah chimed in with mock severity. “Shay thinks her big brother is the best p-p-p...” He drew out an exaggerated p sound before finishing with, “Person in the whole world.”

  That earned another round of laughter.

  “Hey,” Tag said, fighting a grin. “Whatever makes you guys feel better about me taking all your money is fine by me.” With a sly, knowing glance at Cricket, he added, “When it comes to women and cards, you do have a tell, by the way.”

  “You wish,” Cricket said. “Hannah’s been looking for one for years. If she can’t find one, no one will.”

  “My sisters,” Tag said flatly and then let out a little snort. “Ungrateful backstabbers. Best pilot? Ha. I’m sure she was simply being kind. However, I will give you credit for helping me look out for them for all these years, even when they thought they didn’t need it.”

  Cricket felt a hitch in his chest. Tag was speaking in jest, but Cricket knew he meant it. That trust meant everything. He was secure in his belief that Cricket would do anything for those sisters. It went without saying that that included keeping his hands off them. He’d broken that trust once—not to mention another outright promise—and the guilt was nearly unbearable. It was a mistake that he’d vowed never to repeat, and one he’d tried to make up for ever since.

  “That means the world to me,” he deadpanned. “Sort of like winning the silver medal in a race of two.”

  “Four sisters,” Tate said with a shake of his head. “I can’t even imagine what that would be like, trying to keep all the fools away.”

  Tag set his features to mock-serious. “Tate, you know me. I’m an easygoing guy, but you have no idea how that brings out the worst in me.”

  “I do!” Jonah joked, raising his hand. “I have an idea.”

  “Ha, I did my best to get rid of you,” Tag responded. “Lucky for Shay—you don’t scare easy.”

  Years ago, when Jonah had first come back to town and set his sights on reconnecting with Shay, Tag had been a less than enthusiastic supporter. To be fair, Shay and Jonah had had a history riddled with heartbreak and disappointment.

  “So, you’re saying I’m still a loser?”

  “I will concede that you’re less loser-ish than anyone else she ever dated,” Tag conceded. They all laughed.

  “Good thing only one of them is still single,” Tate pointed out.

  “Maybe not for long, though, huh?” Aidan observed, munching a piece of pizza. Leave it to the scientist, Cricket thought wryly, to point out this detail. “What’s the deal with this Kai character anyway? Are he and Hazel a couple? Should we have invited him tonight?”

  Bering gathered the cards, shrugged a shoulder and looked at Cricket. “He seems like a good guy. Great employee, too. So far.”

  So much for that distraction he’d been hoping for tonight. Couldn’t even make it two hours without a reminder. How would he ever manage, he wondered, being friends with the guy who captured Hazel’s heart? Was it wrong to hope that it wouldn’t be Kai? Sure, he was a nice guy, but Cricket could plainly see that he wasn’t right for her. Then again, no one would ever be good enough for Hazel, so what did it matter? A familiar sensation of hopelessness stole over him because he wasn’t good enough either, was he?

  “Bering, are you going to deal or what?” Tag heaved out a sigh. “Because I do not want to spend the evening gossiping about my sisters or discussing Hazel’s love life. I’d rather lose all my money.”

  “Amen,” Cricket wholeheartedly agreed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE DOORBELL CHIMED while Hazel was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches
of sour cream and salsa on the breakfast burritos she’d made. With eggs, chorizo sausage and plenty of cheese, they were one of her dad’s favorites. The oatmeal cookies piled on the platter were for Cricket, although she was still undecided about whether to go through with delivering them.

  Fidgety and unsettled, she’d gotten up way too early trying to decide where the line was between friend and former fantasy love interest. Needing to do something, she’d started cooking—another activity she enjoyed but didn’t have the opportunity to do much of with her nomadic lifestyle.

  Wiping her hands on a towel, she jogged toward the front door. “I got it!” she called loudly from the foyer because she knew her parents were still upstairs.

  She opened the door in time to watch the delivery truck disappearing down the driveway. A large package bearing her name rested on the mat. Hmm. Funny, the little stir of excitement she felt. Bending over, she picked it up and discovered it was surprisingly light for its size. She carried it into the great room, set it on the floor and immediately began wrestling it open. Marveling at the strength of modern-day packing tape, she quickly became aware that she should have gone in search of scissors or a box cutter. Can’t stop now, already committed.

  After sufficiently shredding the tape enough to pull open the flaps, she dug inside. Peeling away several tissue-paper layers revealed the treasure inside—a pillow. A fluffy, thick, gorgeous, full-size pillow!

  Feeling like a...well, like a little kid at Christmas, she belted out a jolly laugh. She would have sworn the headlamp was impossible to beat, but this did it. The thought that anyone knew her this well was both incredibly endearing and a bit shocking. She unpacked the delicious puffball and hugged it to her chest.

  One of the things she liked the least about traveling was the pillows. You never knew what you were going to get—anything from a thin, flimsy piece of foam to an overstuffed sack of gravel. Worst were the lumpy ones filled with chunks of an unidentifiable substance that crunched like a bag of chips at your slightest movement.