by Caroline Lee
One—the one the pig was following—turned and, sure enough, it was her. Elf flicked off the vehicle and pulled off his helmet. “Belle.” He smiled at her, and nodded at the other woman, who must be her sister. “Miss Kalani.”
If he hadn’t been watching Belle, he would’ve missed the flash of something in her expression when he’d pulled off the helmet and she’d realized it was him. Something that looked a lot like excitement at seeing him, but had quickly been pushed back down under her mask of irritation.
“Who’s this, Belle?” The sister—who looked like Belle, except with darker hair—smiled flirtatiously at Elf.
Belle’s scowl just deepened. “This is Elf Redfern. He’s the new blacksmith.”
“Hi, Elf!” The girl—she really wasn’t much beyond twenty—stuck out her hand, and Elf took it gingerly. “I’m Belle’s little sister, Faith. I’ve been pretty focused on the slopes this trip—the next Olympic qualifier is in less than two months!—but looks like I should’ve spent some time walking around like Belle did. I didn’t even realize the ranch had a blacksmith.”
“I’m new.” He smiled, and it wasn’t until Belle looked away, that he realized it probably looked like he was flirting with Faith. So he schooled his expression. “But this morning I’m trying out this snowmobile for tonight’s races. Dani Weston insists on each machine being in tip-top condition, so I wanted to take this one out on the course.”
He swallowed. Now for the difficult part. “I was kinda hoping to have another body on board. You know, for balance and stability…and to make sure it can take the extra weight an’ stuff.” He kept his eyes firmly on Belle when he dropped the hint, but she was staring at Tootles, who was frolicking in the snow alongside the trail. Staring a little too hard to be convincing.
“Oh, that makes sense.” From the corner of his eye, Elf could see Faith glancing back and forth between the two of them. “And you brought an extra helmet, I see. Belle, you should—”
“No,” Belle was quick to shake her head. She met Elf’s eyes briefly before looking away again. “You should take Faith. She likes to go fast.”
Elf opened his mouth to protest that he didn’t actually want to go fast, but Faith beat him to it.
“Oh, no thanks. I’m late for another hot tub soak already.” She was smiling when she bent down to scoop up the pig. “I’ll take Tootles back to the cabin and tell Daddy where you are. Take your time. Have fun.”
Elf could swear he saw Belle shoot Faith an angry glance as the younger woman began to stride towards the road that would lead her to the cabins. In only a few heartbeats, he was left alone on a mountain trail with Belle. Belle, who very clearly wasn’t looking at him.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea to begin with.
“Look, I’m sorry.”
That got her attention. Those lovely dark eyes—such a contrast to the honey-blonde curls that flowed from underneath the bright pink wool cap she wore—snapped up to his.
He swallowed, then continued. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. And now you’re stuck here with me.” That was Faith’s fault, but he wasn’t going to mention that. “I can take you back to your cabin, or if you’re uncomfortable with me here, I can just leave—”
“No!” Her permanently-tan skin flushed slightly at her immediate denial, and Elf’s hope flared. “I mean, you don’t have to go.” She sighed then. “And I’m sorry that I was being so rude. I…”
When she didn’t continue, and didn’t explain, Elf hesitated, then carefully placed his hand on the pink helmet strapped behind him. “I don’t know what went wrong, Belle, but I really enjoyed meeting you on Friday. I’ve been thinking a lot about you, and I’d like to get to know you better.”
It was the right thing to say, apparently. Belle’s back straightened slightly, and she met his eyes. She didn’t say anything though…just continued to watch him. Was that hope in her expression? Whatever it was, that look gave Elf courage.
“I’m sorry I came off as sort of a jerk. I’m really not.” Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he’d done to scare her off, but he was willing to agree to anything to get back into her good graces. He hadn’t lied to Andrew; Belle just felt comfortable. Familiar. Like, somehow, he knew they belonged together.
She sighed then, her breath puffing out in a great cloud of steam. And then she smiled. It was tentative, but beautiful. “You’re being a gentleman now.”
“Well, my mother always says that you can take the gentleman out of the south, but you should get out of the kitchen when things get hot.”
She blinked, and Elf couldn’t help the smile that burst out at her confusion.
“That, um... What?” Her nose wrinkled adorably. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Neither does my mother. She’s staying at the ranch with my sisters, and I swear, she could drive a saint to drink.”
That did it. Belle burst into laughter, and—Lord have mercy!—her laugh was as beautiful as the rest of her. “I think I’d like to meet her. She sounds much more interesting than my mother.”
“Interesting… Yep, that’s the word for Muz alright. She sure is interesting.”
Elf held out his hand, and it just seemed so natural when Belle slipped her smaller one into it. He pulled her towards the snowmobile and helped her climb on behind him, wishing they weren’t both wearing gloves, so he could feel her skin against his.
She took her time pulling off her cap and settling the helmet over her hair. Elf kept his attention firmly focused on the trail ahead of them, trying not to think about how warm she felt back there, and wondering if she’d hold on to him or to the side of the vehicle when he started the engine.
“So…” He cleared his throat. “Where am I taking you? Home, or…?”
She was silent for a long moment. Then: “You really are a gentleman, Elf? You meant what you said about wanting to get to know me better?”
His pulse began to pound in the base of his throat. There was something in her tone…something which told him that his answer was incredibly important. Still, he stared straight ahead while he poured the truth out, not sure he could watch her expression.
“Belle, I haven’t thought about much else this whole weekend, except the possibility of seeing you again. You made me happy, just for that little time we were together. I know that I don’t have much right to think that I know anything about you…” He trailed off, realizing how convoluted that sounded. Then he cleared his throat and tried again, “I mean, you’re probably thinking that I only want to be with you because you’re gorgeous. But that’s not true—I mean, it is true, you are gorgeous” —Lord, he was making a mess of things— “but it’s more than that. Being with you felt…” He closed his eyes and forced himself to confess his feelings. “Right.” There, that wasn’t so bad. Swallowing, he added, “I’d like the chance to see if that feeling continues.”
Silence was the only response from behind him.
It wasn’t until darkness began to creep in at the edges of his vision that he realized he was holding his breath. More than a minute had gone by, and she hadn’t reacted to his admittedly awkward and difficult confession.
But then, he felt her move. Felt her scoot closer, and put her arms around him. Felt his pulse jump and his heart leap at the sensation of being held close by her.
“Well then, Mr. Blacksmith, how about you show me the snowmobile course?”
And Elf smiled as he settled his helmet back over his head. Maybe Muz was right. Maybe Christmas was the time for miracles.
“Is there a reason we’re not meeting in front of the General Store, like we said we would?” Faith huffed behind Belle as they hurried down the main street of the Old West town.
“Yep,” was all Belle answered, hiding her smile from her little sister.
“Well at least slow down a little, would you?”
“You’re in training for the Olympics! I’m an out-of-work beauty queen! Which of us should be huffing behind the
other?”
Faith chuckled under her breath. “It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s your pet.”
To Belle’s chagrin, the chastising worked. As much as she complained about Tootles following her everywhere, she didn’t actually want anything bad to happen to him. She stopped, turned, and saw the poor little thing trotting after her along the boardwalk, his little booted hooves scrambling frantically to keep up with her. He was even wearing an adorably distressed look on his little piggy face as he stared up at her as if he was afraid of being left behind.
Belle sighed. She’d reached the point where she could tell the pig was distressed? Yep, she was his anxiety human, alright. When he reached her side and butted up against her calf, she scooped him up, and pretended not to feel her heart melt a little at the way he gave a sort of sigh and burrowed into her arms.
“Come on, Kalua. I wasn’t going to leave you.” He gave a grunt in return, without untucking his head from the crook of her elbow, and she shared a smile with Faith. “Sorry.”
“Oh, never mind.” Her younger sister waved her mitten-covered hand. “Now, how about telling me why we’re practically running to this end of town, instead of joining that big crowd back there? The caroling is going to start soon, and I told Mom we’d be there.”
“We will.” Belle began to walk backwards along the boardwalk as she tried to explain. “But all of the shops have their front windows decorated, right? And I just wanted to check if…um…”
She trailed off when she saw her younger sister’s smirk.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with hunky Elf the Blacksmith, would it?”
Belle turned away, so she didn’t have to look at Faith. “Yes. Okay? I didn’t notice if his shop was decorated, so I don’t know if he’s participating in the contest, but I know he said that he’s been working long hours, and—”
“Hey, you don’t have to defend him to me.” Faith was grinning; it was obvious in her voice. “I liked the guy. It was nice of him to stand next to us during the snowmobile races last night. I liked meeting most of his family too, and I’m determined to meet Ellie now. I wanna see who I lost to.”
Faith had had a crush on Will Weston since she was a girl, but even she admitted that she was too young for him. It was good that she could joke about his marriage to Elf’s sister.
So all Belle said was, “Yeah,” but that didn’t come nearly close enough to her feelings on the matter.
It had been nice to meet Elf’s parents and his sister Dink last night. And even though he’d sought out her family to watch the races, Belle and her younger brother Matt had ended up narrating most of the races, since they’d been attending them for years. Elf knew an awful lot about the snowmobiles themselves though, which was a bit of a surprise from a blacksmith. And he’d stood beside her the entire time, making jokes to keep them all laughing, and revealing more about himself.
His mother—Muz, she’d insisted on being called with a twinkle in her eye—had laughed and laughed when she’d been introduced to Tootles, and judging from the look Elf had given his mother, there was obviously more to the story. Still, she’d been as fun as Elf had claimed, and couldn’t seem to keep her idioms straight. She also kept up a non-stop, but good-natured, complaint about the weather. Apparently the whole family was from Charleston, South Carolina—which explained Elf’s southern drawl—and was far too warm-blooded for northern Idaho. Matt had invited them all out on the slopes the next day, and Belle thought her brother looked surprised when Elf’s father and Dink agreed.
Muz had just laughed and shaken her head. “And spend my day falling down the mountain? No thank you. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but snow and ice hurt too.”
Which had actually made a lot of sense.
It had been a fun evening, and even though Elf had said he’d be busy working in his smithy tonight, Belle was looking forward to seeing the rest of his family during the caroling.
But for now…
They’d reached the blacksmith’s shop. It was made of wood, and looked very old-timey, just like the rest of the Old West town. Unlike most of the other buildings, it didn’t have a front window, just a large wooden shutter that could be lowered for display space and to keep the interior cool. In the winter, of course, it was latched tightly, and thus the whole shop’s front looked boring and plain.
Inside, though… Belle took a deep breath, cuddled Tootles closer, and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Elf looked up from where he was bent over the hot anvil, and his hammer came down hard on entirely the wrong place, judging from the way he started and muttered a curse. Behind Belle, Faith giggled.
Whatever had happened, Elf brushed it off and shoved his tongs—and whatever was on them—back into the fire. “Come in, ladies! I wasn’t expecting much company until the carolers came through.”
Belle could see that while he hadn’t decorated for the contest like the rest of the shops had, he’d laid out all of his ornaments and creations so that the guests could oooh and ahhh, and hopefully buy some. Still holding Tootles, she leaned over an exquisitely crafted iron rose. It looked so realistic, she wondered if the thorns would draw blood.
“Well,” she heard Faith say brightly behind her, “It’s nice to see you again, Elf, but I’m pretty sure I hear Mom calling me. Bye!”
By the time Belle had twirled around in horror at being abandoned, the door was closing behind her little sister, blowing in little flurries to melt on the anvil, and Belle was alone with Elf.
Who cleared his throat. “Um. Hi.”
Which was probably the least flirty thing he could’ve said, and it made Belle’s heart smile. “Hi,” she replied as she turned and put Tootles down. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
The way his face split into a huge grin under his dark beard told her he didn’t mind at all. It made her knees a little wobbly to see so much joy in his expression, so she leaned against the workbench. Tootles trotted over to the forge to sit on his haunches, obviously deciding that his ridiculous Christmas sweater—this one was red and gold—wasn’t warm enough.
“Truthfully, I was hoping you’d stop by. But I didn’t think you’d be here until later.”
“I…uh…” What to tell him? That she just wanted to see him? No, that was too forward. The excuse about the contest seemed flimsy now that she was standing here staring into his blue eyes. Besides, he was in full blacksmith-mode again, with his leather apron covering his bare chest and his forearms dirty with ash.
So she shrugged, and tried to pretend her mouth wasn’t watering while watching him. “I wanted to come and learn a little about your work.”
His eyes lit up, and she knew she’d said the right thing. He launched into an explanation of the whole process, and Belle tried to keep up, but somewhere between “drawing down” and “welding,” he turned around to pull some tool off a rack and she saw the full expanse of his bare back, skin shiny with sweat and muscles gleaming in the firelight, and every single thought just skittered out of her brain.
Wow.
He didn’t seem to notice her distraction, but pulled out an iron ingot and showed her how to make a nail, which he claimed was the easiest, fastest, and most popular item he made, because guests could watch him make one and then buy it, all in the same visit. She was soon laughing at his narrations, and when he invited her over to try her hand at it, she jumped at the opportunity.
Working beside him like that—even if her blows were clumsy and weak—was fun. It made her feel warm—although that could’ve been the fire—to be beside him like this, and reminded her of the way it had felt to wrap her arms around him yesterday morning. He’d been hard and warm, and had made her feel safe as they worked their way through the snowmobile course. Her heart had pounded in a way that had nothing to do with the excitement of the twists and turns.
She felt that way again, right now.
“Not bad!” He chuckled as he held up the pliers that clasped the lumpy nail she’d
been trying to pound straight. “I mean, not good, but not bad either.”
She had to laugh along with him. “Well, it was my first try.”
“You should’ve seen my first try!”
“Tell me about it.” She found herself wanting to know everything about him.
Her interest must’ve surprised him, judging from the look he gave her. But he shrugged. “I was messing around in Dad’s garage. He and I’d always worked on cars together, and I’ve always figured I’d be a mechanic like him. But blacksmithing was…I dunno, a kind of art I hadn’t heard of before.” He plunged the pliers holding her attempt at a nail into a bucket of water, and the hiss of the steam was startling. “My sister Dink is the artist in the family and…I didn’t realize I could be one too.”
Belle looked around at the old-fashioned tools and the incredible collection of things he’d made: garden decorations, wall hangings, rustic kitchen implements, and a bunch of Christmas ornaments. She nodded. “This is definitely art, Elf.”
To her surprise, he flushed under his beard. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t something I’d considered, you know? But I sell my stuff online, and people will pay a lot for a hand-forged personalized keepsake. I make a lot of stuff for weddings and anniversaries. And brands too.”
Well, they were in Idaho. “You mean, like, cattle brands?”
“Kinda like that, but most of my buyers are guys who like the idea, and want to brand other stuff. Like woodworking projects…or steak.”
She giggled at the idea of a cowboy branding a steak with an iron, but had seen the effort guys put into making sure the sear marks were just right on their dinner, so it made sense.
“How’d you learn to do all of this?”
“Charleston was home to Philip Simmons. Any chance you’ve heard of him?”
Belle shook her head mutely, her attention on the way he was drying off her nail, and then wrapping it up in a piece of burlap.
“Ah, well” —he shrugged “—not many people have, I guess. I mean, he’s famous down there, and in architectural circles. He’s this amazing iron-worker, and his gates in particular are spread throughout Charleston. Owning something he made—especially one of his gates, displayed out front where everyone can see it—is like owning a Picasso. In Charleston at least.”