by Caroline Lee
“We’re not,” Mom said with a sniff. “We’re trying to spend some quality Christmas time together for a change, but you’re making it difficult.”
Belle’s brows rose. “What?” Mom was the one who spent all day out on the slopes with Matt and Faith, coaching them, pushing them. Belle just hung around the ranch all day with Tootles. And Elf.
But Mom wasn’t one to see anything as her fault. “I mean, that if we’re all taking time out of our busy schedules to be together at Christmas, you might make an effort to join us—”
“Oh, lay off her, Eileen.” Daddy interrupted as he frowned down at his menu. “She’s met a nice guy, and she’s spending a Friday night with him. A‘ole pilikia. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Belle could’ve hugged her father for defending her, but he wasn’t done.
“Besides, it’s not like we’re the best company tonight. You and Faith have been talking about ski-jump physics and angles all night, and Matt’s been moping.”
Matt was moping? Belle turned to her younger brother and, sure enough, his arms were crossed in a classic Matt sulk. She bumped his elbow with her hip. “What’s up?”
Faith answered for him. “He’s still pouting because he got turned down by that cute girl at the bakery.”
This again? “Miranda didn’t seem your type.”
Matt just shrugged. “She’s getting awful friendly with another guy, is all I know.”
Trying to hide her smile, Belle nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, but I hear that his omelets aren’t that great.”
“What?” Mom snapped.
“Nothing.” Belle’s smile finally peeked through. “I’m sorry Matt isn’t feeling the holiday spirit.” She bumped him again. “You should totally get up there and sing Jingle Bells with me. Ooh! Or the Twelve Days of Christmas!”
Matt snorted, but he relaxed a little, at least. “’Didn’t know you liked karaoke,” he mumbled.
“I don’t know if I do.” Her eyes found Elf’s in the back corner. “I’m here on a date to find out though.”
“A date! On December twenty-third, when you should be spending time with your family,” Mom muttered.
Daddy briefly caught Belle’s eye, and she swore that he winked. “Oh, let the girl have fun. Now, Eileen, do you think I should have the steak or the pizza?” He pointed at the menu, and when her controlling mother bent over it to instruct Daddy on what to order, Faith made shooing motions at Belle.
Smiling, Belle took her sister’s advice and backed away quietly from the table. Tootles followed her—of course—and she didn’t want to draw attention by sending him back, so she just rolled her eyes and headed back to Elf and her Christmas karaoke date.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Christmas edition of River’s End Ranch karaoke!”
Bernie’s announcement from the front of the restaurant drew Elf’s attention away from the brownie sundae he was sharing with Belle. She’d joined him at their table looking a little preoccupied from her conversation with her family, but he’d done his best to be charming, and soon she was smiling just as broadly as she’d been all afternoon. They’d laughed and joked about each other’s taste in pizza toppings, and all sorts of other things. And now that the main event was about to start, he shared a glance with her that was full of excitement…and something else.
“Now, as you know, we alternate between open mic nights and karaoke nights here on the ranch, but tonight is all about singing along to the Christmas music! Just like usual, we have a panel of ranch judges.” Bernie—who was Wade Weston’s right-hand woman—gestured grandly towards the three people setting up chairs in the front. “Andrew is our head engineer and tells me that he’ll only be around until one of you manages to flood a bathroom or trip a breaker, at which point he’ll use that as an excuse to escape.” There was laughter from the audience, and Bernie pointed to the second chair. “Abby here mans—or womans, rather—our Post Office in the Old West Town. And of course, last but not least, is our pilot Frank; baseball-cap aficionado, U.S. Air Force veteran—thank you for your service, sir—and all-around great guy, whom many of you know because he’s hauled you all over creation. Let’s give all three of our judges a round of applause!”
Elf joined Belle and the rest of those gathered in the restaurant—even the Kalani family up front—in clapping and cheering in appreciation. He’d been to River’s End Ranch karaoke before, but frankly, it wasn’t as much fun as going to Figs in town for Open-Mic Night. Tonight though…tonight was going to be awesome.
Bernie was explaining the rules now. “For those of you who don’t know, this panel will score contestants, and at the end of the night we’ll have prizes for the best, the worst, the funniest, the best group effort, the most authentic, and the most unique. Remember, these judges are not professional, and in fact, have admitted to not knowing anything at all about karaoke, or singing in general.” She waited for the audience’s laughter to die down before continuing, “So no hard feelings! Let’s keep this fun, people. Tonight, all of the songs must be Christmas-y. We’ve got about a gazillion Christmas songs cued up on the machine, so I know you’ll be able to find whatever song you’d like.”
She began to move off to one side, but stopped and said “Oh!” before scooting back into the center again. “And don’t forget the tables along those windows that are full of yummy Peanut Butter Blossoms from the bakery. Miranda outdid herself this year.” Elf had to agree. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”
When she finally sat down, there was a rush for the karaoke machine, and Elf settled back in his chair.
“Why aren’t you jumping up?” Belle asked suspiciously.
He shrugged. “I’ll let all the amateurs get it out of their system first.” He knew he sounded cocky, so he added a grin for good measure…but it was the truth.
Luckily, she just scoffed and—after shooting what he swore was a defiant look towards her mother, who’d been glaring at them as he and Belle ate the sundae—polished off the rest of the brownie. “I meant why aren’t you jumping up for the Peanut Butter Blossoms?”
“Oh.” Elf’s grin slipped, and he shifted a little self-consciously. “Well…actually, I might’ve had Miranda put aside a few dozen for me to take back to my apartment. They’re already in the car.”
She began to giggle at that confession, and soon he was laughing too. They settled in to watch the performances together, and soon were singing along too. It was mainly passable renditions of popular religious and Santa-based songs, and were loads of fun. After the initial rush died down, Elf went up to put his name and selection in the queue, and—yes—to grab a plate of Peanut Butter Blossoms.
When his name was called, he leaned in and captured Belle’s lips in a quick peanut-flavored kiss. “For luck,” he said, as he winked and stood.
Up in front of the audience once more, Elf cradled the microphone in front of him and planted his feet. When the opening notes to Elvis Presley’s I’ll Have a Blue Christmas began, he lifted his chin, caught Belle’s eyes, and sang for all he was worth.
“Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree…won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me.” She was singing along with him; he could tell even across the room. He tried one of Elvis’s smoldering stares, and heard some cheers from the audience.
It was the way her eyes suddenly opened wide and her lips froze in an “oh” that told him he’d nailed the Elvis experience. I love Elvis, she’d told him. Well, he was doing everything he could to give her Elvis Presley, even if he was realizing that he very much wanted her to love Elvis Redfern too.
“You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white…” There certainly was enough snow outside to fit the bill, and Elf grinned. “But I'll have a blue, blue-blue-blue Christmas.”
When he finished the song, the audience erupted into cheers and applause. Belle’s father was on his feet clapping, as was her sister. Even Andrew, in the front row, was looking impressed as he snacked on a bowl full o
f pistachios. But Elf didn’t care about any of them; he made a beeline for the back of the room…where Belle waited for him.
She met him with a huge smile and another big kiss. He wondered if she was imagining that she was kissing The King, but then decided he didn’t care, and just let himself enjoy the natural high that he got from being on stage…and from kissing her.
They fell into their chairs, still embraced and laughing, his heart pounding proudly. “So when are you going to get up there and sing?”
Before she could answer, Bernie stepped up to the microphone. “Charley Easton is our next performer, and Belle Kalani is up after her.”
When Belle just grinned at him, Elf shrugged. “That answers that!” He sat back to watch her make her way to the front and speak softly to Bernie. Tootles followed loyally, and sat down on his haunches beside her.
When Charley—who helped run the ranch’s security detail with an iron fist—finished her remarkably good version of Little Town of Bethlehem, and the audience finished clapping, it was Belle’s turn. She stepped up to the center of the open space and waited while Bernie set up the mic on a stand for her. She didn’t look nervous, but that was the only reason he could think she’d want her hands free.
The audience chuckled when she pointed to Tootles and told him to sit on the edge of the space. He ignored her instructions, of course, and settled himself near her. She put her hands on her hips, said “Stay there, Kalua,” and moved the mic stand over a few feet. Why did she need the space?
Then, to his surprise—and everyone else’s, judging from the confused noises he heard—she balanced gracefully on one foot and pulled off her boot. When she pulled off the second one and placed them both by Tootles, he wasn’t the only one on his feet to watch her performance. Only her family seemed to know what to expect, judging from Matt’s smug look.
When the opening notes to Bing Crosby’s Mele Kalikimaka began, Elf smiled. She was wearing a long red skirt that brushed against her ankles as she swayed in time to the music, and it seemed incongruous for her to be standing barefoot in the middle of Idaho, singing about Hawaii.
“Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas Day.” Her voice wasn’t as clear as some of the other performers, and he knew that singing wasn’t her strong suit. Still, she looked perfectly at ease up in front of an audience, which isn’t something that could be said for everyone. “That's the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway.”
He crossed his arms and smiled, ready to enjoy the rest of the well-known song. But she surprised him. Instead of the next line—“For here we know that Christmas will be green and bright”—Belle sang something else entirely. The words were the same tune, but…not English. The syllables were short and heavy on the vowels, which made the whole thing mysteriously melodious.
It was Hawaiian. She was singing in Hawaiian!
It was stunning. She was stunning.
And then she surprised them again. Instead of repeating both verses again like the chorus did in the original song, she stepped away from the mic stand and…danced.
Elf’s jaw dropped. Had he thought she was stunning before, when she sang in Hawaiian? No, it couldn’t compare to her now. That long red skirt was perfect; it swayed against her calves, and twirled around her ankles teasingly, as she danced the traditional Hawaiian hula. Her hips seemed to rock independently of her knees, as they rotated slowly in time to the ukulele music. She was sensuous and sexy as all get out, and in that moment—watching her dancing the hula to a Christmas song—Elf Redfern fell completely in love.
The feeling was a kick in the chest, so much so, that when she finished and the audience surged to their feet to cheer, he could only stand and watch her. I love her. He loved everything about her—her smile, her talent, her mystery, her stories, her laughter, her teasing. He loved her.
When she finished her performance with a low curtsy, Elf knew that she was the queen of his heart.
She scooped up her boots, beckoned Tootles, and trotted daintily towards their corner table. Elf made an effort to smile, but he still felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. I love her.
“Well?” She spun around in a circle, her skirt flaring out the way it had on stage. “What did you think?”
“I loved it,” Elf managed to answer truthfully. “Everything about it.” He took her hand in his, drawing her nearer. “That was…phenomenal.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She giggled and sank down at the table, reaching for her water. “It was just the hula.”
“It was…” He swallowed and sat beside her. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
The way she blushed told him that she’d heard the hidden meaning behind his words. He bit into a cookie to hide his unfamiliar flustering.
“The dance was incredible, but what about those lyrics? Did you memorize them?”
“Oh, no.” She waved away his compliment. “I translated that song myself a while ago.”
He blinked. “You speak Hawaiian?”
“Sure.” She nodded. “I learned the same summer I learned the hula for the first time. I was ten, and went back home—I mean, back to Maui to visit my Tutu, Daddy’s mother.”
Suddenly, Elf understood. Mr. Kalani was Hawaiian. How had he not realized it before? Even their last name sounded Hawaiian, didn’t it? Belle got her dark skin and eyes from her father, and her honey-blonde hair from her mother. The reason he’d been struck by her exotic beauty from the beginning was because she was exotic.
Wow.
“I…” He cleared his throat, bowled over by his second surprising realization in as many minutes. “I’ve got a friend who speaks Hawaiian.” Queenie had once told him she’d learned it because she missed the islands so much. “But I’ve never heard it spoken before. It’s lovely. So was your dancing.”
“Thank you.” Belle smiled down at her plate, but she looked proud of her talent, which was good. “I practiced for years, and I know it’s really unique here in Idaho. So unique, in fact, that I used it in the talent portion of the competition the year that I won the Miss Idaho pageant.”
I won the Miss Idaho pageant. The words echoed in his ears, and pounded through his chest. I won the Miss Idaho pageant.
Just like Queenie.
Belle was from Hawaii, but moved away and missed her birthplace. She spoke Hawaiian. She had siblings training to be in the Olympics. She loved Elvis Presley and knew as much trivia about The King as Elf did. She was a beauty queen.
…Just like Queenie.
And for the third time that night, Elf felt a tightness in his chest as a suspicion settled in his mind. I won the Miss Idaho pageant.
She was a beauty queen. And the queen of his heart.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Christmas Eve day was always family-oriented. Belle helped Mom prepare her signature mac and cheese for the Christmas meal that the guests always made for the ranch staff, and then they threw together the fixings for their own traditional Christmas morning casserole.
Then Belle and Faith and Matt walked over to the General Store to pick out last-minute stocking stuffers for their parents and even took some photos with Santa. They had a photo with the jolly fat man and the three of them from every single Christmas. It was a fun tradition, and they agreed that this year’s Santa was the best they’d seen in a really long time.
While she was there, Belle found the perfect ornament for Elf, as she’d been hoping. It was a porcelain pair of red cowboy boots with a little hook at the top to hang it from one of the branches of the ancient Weston family Christmas tree that grew in the center of the Old West Town. And miraculously, the ornament wasn’t glittered or shiny or too girly; the simple sprig of holly berries sticking out from the top of one boot lent the whole ornament a sort of rustic charm. It was perfect for him, and she couldn’t wait to give it to him tonight at the ornament exchange.
After their shopping excursion, Belle and Faith popped i
nto the bakery to grab some yummy cakes for breakfast Christmas morning, but Matt got a little panicked at the thought. Normally, they would’ve teased him about being turned down for a date by Miranda—it was the sisterly thing to do, after all—but Belle took pity on him and sent him into Sadie’s saloon to get coffee for them, while she and her sister and her pig went into the bakery.
When they finally made it to the counter—the line wrapped around the store!—Belle paid for their purchases, and made sure to compliment Miranda on the delicious cookies she’d been working overtime to make that week. “The Peanut Butter Blossoms were my favorites!”
“Oh, your favorites, huh?” Miranda’s smile told Belle that she wasn’t fooling anyone. “I heard that a certain blacksmith was particularly fond of them.”
When the baker winked, Belle blushed and grabbed at her change in a happy fluster. Because she’d been thinking a lot about Elf.
Last night’s date at the Christmas karaoke had been… wow! She didn’t think she’d ever forget the look of wonder and…well, reverence she’d seen on Elf’s face when she and Tootles had tripped happily back to their shared table. Something had changed in him while he’d watched her dance the hula, and she didn’t mind at all.
And when their date was over, and he’d kissed her goodnight while her family had waited impatiently to walk back to the cabin? …Double wow! Something special had definitely happened, because that kiss had been better than any of the other kisses they’d shared that day.
Even with Mom clearing her throat not-so-subtly nearby.
So yeah, it was no surprise that Belle was walking around in a bit of a daze, thinking about Elf. Faith and Daddy had even teased her about it, but she could only smile. She was going to see Elf tonight at church and at the tree-decorating, and maybe even kiss him again!