“This is getting out of hand.” Kimberly threw up her hands. “But if you can’t listen to reason, then you’re leaving me no choice but to fight for what I believe in, and that’s the welfare of children. Not meaningless decorations.”
“Meaningless?” Ross crossed his arms, too, digging in for a fight. “If it’s a fued you want, then you’ve got it.”
“Have a seat, Ms. Perez,” Chairperson Clydelle commanded.
The battle between opposing sides—decorations or no decorations—erupted again, raging around him as Kimberly skulked back to her chair. When she sat, she scooted several inches away from him.
Ross eased closer. “Kimberly, why are you doing this? I’ll go to war with every person in this town to protect Christmas.”
He’d go to war with every person in the world if it meant honoring his sister’s last wishes. Her love of Christmas was all he had left of her.
Grief welled up and caught in his throat.
When his parents abandoned Christmas all together because of the painful reminder, he’d felt her death all over again. They’d refused to speak of her, as though she’d never existed. So, once Ross was grown and could do as he pleased, he’d celebrated the holidays every year, the way she’d asked him to do.
It was the only way he could deal with Christmas without agonizing heartbreak engulfing him.
It had caused a riff so deep and wide between him and his folks, they’d finally sold Papa Bear’s Lodge to him and moved outside of Red River. Living farther out of town, they didn’t have to see Red River lit up every Christmas, and Ross could carry on Noelle’s wishes without feeling guilty about what it did to his mom and dad.
Time hadn’t helped them heal, so Ross visited them less and less. He resented not being able to speak Noelle’s name in their presence, or reminisce over her memories in their home.
What kind of people did that?
Yet he loved his parents dearly, and the last thing he wanted was to cause them more pain. So he stayed away to protect himself and them, too.
Finally, Chairperson Clydelle banged her gavel and held up a hand. “Enough. I’ve heard all I need to.” She turned her gaze on Kimberly and pointed the gavel at her. “You.”
Kimberly’s eyes flew wide.
Satisfaction rose in Ross’s chest to snuff out some of the grief. Christmas decorations—1, Grinch—0. As much as he cared for Kimberly, she was flat wrong. There was no reason they couldn’t accomplish both of their goals at the same time, so he let his lips curve into a smile.
Until Chairperson Clydelle’s gavel swung in his direction. “And you.”
He let the smile fall from his lips and looked around, hoping she was pointing at someone else.
“Yes, you, Mr. Armstrong.” Then Chairperson Clydelle put Kimberly back in her crosshairs. “Since the two of you have managed to divide the entire town during a season when we’re supposed to come together as a community, I’m going to move that we postpone the vote on the new decorations and on the city ordinance.”
“I second the motion,” said Councilman Flaps.
“All in favor?” Chairperson Clydelle didn’t bother to wait for a response. She pounded the gavel again. “Motion passed.”
“But what about the big balls?” Ms. Francine all but whined.
Chairperson Clydelle harrumphed. “If the council votes for them, it’ll look like we don’t care about the kids. If the council votes against them, we’ll look like a bunch of Scrooges.”
Ross pointed at Kimberly. “She’s already got the bah-humbug market cornered.”
Kimberly gave him a scalding glare. “Me?” Her tone hardened. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to help the Tiny Tims of our community.” She pursed her lips. “Seems to me that I’m not the only person in the room named Ebenezer. Besides,” she gave him a haughty look, “you’re getting your Christmas stories mixed up. You started the meeting by referring to me as the Grinch.”
He leaned in so only she could hear an gave her a sly smile. “Not your usual witty comeback, Kimberly. You must be desperate.” He let his smile widen. “Or maybe a little shaken.”
“Ha! I’m rock solid.” She gave him a look of contempt, but her chin still quivered, telling him she was as shaken as a damn snow globe in a souvenir shop.
“Seems to me Ms. Perez is both Grinch and Scrooge,” one of Ross’s supporters said.
“Order!” Chairperson Clydelle hammered on the table again. “Red River was already running behind on our holiday schedule because of the raccoon and skunk fiasco, but now our little town is blowing apart at the seams because of the cost of harmless decorations. So, the two of you can darn well fix this.” Chairperson Clydelle’s scolding gaze bounced from Ross to Kimberly, as though they were children.
Ross seriously felt as though he might be sent to his room without dinner.
Kimberly shot a look at him, then her eyes darted away. “Um, how? I mean, I didn’t want to cause trouble. I only meant for us to bring a little joy to children’s lives.”
Chairperson Clydelle waved her gavel around the scowling room. “Well, you can see for yourself how successful you were at the bringing joy part of your plan. Thanks for that, by the way. Dealing with this kind of mess is every chairperson’s nightmare during the holidays,” she deadpanned.
Kimberly tugged at an earlobe, which had a line of studs pierced into it all the way around the rim. “Sorry, I—”
“Enough talk from you,” Chairperson Clydelle said, then turned her frown back on Ross.
His head snapped back because she and her gavel were kind of frightening.
“Ross Armstrong and Kimberly Perez are responsible for this year’s decorations,” said Chairperson Clydelle.
“What?” Ross sat up straight.
“Wait!” Kimberly said at the same time.
“All the decorations?” Ross blurted.
“For the entire town?” Kimberly shot to her feet.
That ignited another free for all between the townsfolk.
Chairperson Clydelle downed the rest of her spiked coffee, sat her large mug aside, and—in spite of the creamer mustache left on her upper lip—she brought the crowd to heel with three menacing swings of her gavel. “Why don’t the two of you start with a Wishing Tree? Setting up a Christmas tree in the park is an important part of our ritual in Red River, and it’ll give our town the opportunity to grant a wish to the kids in our community who need them.”
“What about the rest of the decorations?” One tree didn’t seem sufficient for an entire town, and his sister’s memory would seem to fade without twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments everywhere.
Chairperson Clydelle leaned forward on one elbow and waved the gavel at him. “It’s your turn to look around, Mr. Armstrong.”
He did, and with half of the meeting attendees scowling back at him, he wanted to pull at the neck of his coveralls.
“Now you’ll see how it feels for the town council to have to try and make everyone happy. You and Ms. Perez just earned yourselves that responsibility, so go figure it out. I, for one, am going to enjoy watching you try with most of the town breathing down your necks. Since we’ve had to postpone the vote to expand the budget, you’ll have very little funds to work with. Have fun finding a way to put those modest and hard-earned taxpayer dollars to work so both sides get what they want.”
Oh. Hell. He’d come to the town council meeting to save Christmas, not to be put in charge of the holidays for the entire town.
“You’ll report your progress to me every day, seeing as how Christmas is right around the corner and there’s no time to lose.” She banged her gavel. “Meeting adjourned.”
“But I’ve got a law practice to run—” Kimberly started to protest, but Chairperson Clydelle mowed her down with an admonishing look.
Kimberly’s mouth clamped shut.
“Well, crap on a cracker,” Ms. Francine spoke up, her purse still dangling on her arm. “I really wanted those big balls.�
��
Ross had to admit, he’d really like a bigger set of balls, too. He must’ve left his at home because he felt as though he’d just been manhandled by a petite woman with wild hair and an old lady with a loaded gavel.
Chapter Three
Well, that didn’t go as planned.
Even though she was stunned, Kimberly beelined it to the front door before the sound of Chairperson Clydelle’s last swing of the gavel finished echoing through Cotton Eyed Joe’s.
Kimberly stepped through the door and let it swing shut behind her. Icy winter air slapped her in the face, knocking her back to reality and the problem she’d just created for herself.
Making sure impoverished kids received gifts had been her plan. Somehow, she’d gotten stuck with the responsibility of decorating an entire town for Christmas on a shoestring budget, and labeled as the town Grinch.
With a shiver, she stepped onto the snow-packed sidewalk, stopping to pull on a pair of lavender knit gloves with the fingertips cut out and a lime green knit cap.
She’d darn sure decorate on her own, though, because she was not working side by side with Ross Armstrong.
Now, she just had to figure out how to pull off the impossible.
She folded her arms. Tapped her foot. Chewed her lip. Racked her brain on how to fix the hot mess that had just been handed to her.
Her best buddy since law school and legal partner might be able to help. Together, Angelique and Kimberly had tackled some pretty tough stuff over the years. This should be a piece of fruitcake.
She snorted at the Christmas pun.
Because hell. It was either laugh or cry.
A few people who’d attended the council meeting started to trickle out of Joe’s, and she kept her back to the door so she wouldn’t have to see their scowling faces.
Sheesh. The way the mob had squared off against each other … against either her or Ross … they might as well have been discussing the outcome of, say, a presidential election instead of Christmas décor.
She turned on a heel to head toward her law office, where she and her BFF could put their intelligent heads together.
Strong fingers curled around Kimberly’s arm, pulling her to a stop again. “Whoa there,” Ross said. “If we’re going to work together on decorations, we best get started. We’re already in the first week of December.”
The stream of meeting attendees filing out of Joe’s thickened, all of them glaring at either her or Ross.
“I’m not working with someone who called me both Grinch and Scrooge in the span of sixty seconds,” she whispered.
He glanced down at her feet. “If the bedazzled boot fits.”
Through gritted teeth, she whispered, “I didn’t expect you to try and sabotage my dream to help kids who can’t help themselves.”
He leaned close enough that their noses almost touched. “And I didn’t expect you to try and sabotage a tradition in this town that everyone loves, especially kids.”
She glared at him.
He acted as though it didn’t bother him in the least. “Now, we have no choice but to work together to make both happen.” He looked down at her boots. “If we can’t find enough decorations for the whole town, we can string your boots from the street lamps. I have no doubt you’ve got more.” His grin went full-on, lighting his face in that friendly, flirtatious way he had with her.
Ladyland purred.
Down, girl.
She turned a foot on its side and studied her boots. “They’re sequined, and they aren’t that noticeable. At least not noticeable enough to call them bedazzled.”
“I’ve seen blinking neon signs in Vegas that are less noticeable.” He winked, his green eyes sparkling as brightly as her boots. “But I like ’em. They suit you. Now, can we get out of the cold and discuss how to go about decorating a whole town?”
“I can handle it.” She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Leave it to me.” She took a step back.
Sarcasm practically dripped from his chuckle. “I’m not leaving Christmas to the person who just tried to have it canceled.” He stared down at her, that twinkle still flickering in his eyes. “So, your place or mine?”
Ladyland roared.
Bad, girl. Very bad.
“Um, I have a lot of work waiting for me at the office.” She shifted from one foot to the other.
A middle-aged couple, who’d shown up late for the council meeting, walked out of Joe’s, stopped on the top step, and gave her a stare so cold she could’ve sworn the icicles hanging from the eaves instantly doubled in size.
Kimberly widened her eyes at the couple and lifted both palms in a what are you staring at gesture. “I was trying to help kids. How is that a bad thing?”
The couple walked away, but not without one of them mumbling, “Christmas hating Grinch,” under their breath.
Kimberly’s mouth fell open, and she let out an exasperated huff. She turned narrowed eyes on Ross and pointed at the retreating couple. “You do realize that’s your doing, right?”
He shrugged. “Seemed more like your own doing to me.” Then he smiled. “But I have to admit, I did help it along a little.”
She rolled her eyes. “I have to live in this town, too, ya know.”
“All the more reason we need to kick it into gear,” Ross said. “So, when can we meet? I’ll make it easy for you and come to your office.”
Kimberly folded her arms over the front of her puffy burgundy down jacket and studied him. Ross was such a handsome guy. Not in a GQ kind of way. He had more of a rugged mountain man vibe. His hair, which curled up over the edge of his knit cap, was still slightly damp.
Her mouth turned to cotton.
The image of Ross in nothing but a towel draped low around his hips and droplets of water still fresh on his tanned skin was something she shouldn’t let herself think on for too long. It made Ladyland scratch and claw for attention.
That just wasn’t happening. She liked Ross too much to let him get to know the real Kimberly Perez. The Kimberly who didn’t have much to offer, which was why she poured her heart into children who had hard lives just like she’d had. It was the most positive and meaningful thing she had to give.
It was the only positive and meaningful thing she had to give.
When Ross leveled a determined stare right back at her and folded his arms over his insulated coveralls, mimicking her stance, she realized how much time had gone by with her staring at him.
She dropped her arms and stood tall.
“Fine. I should be finished with work around five o’clock.” Without a good-bye, she stepped off the curb, looked both ways, and started to cross the street to walk to her office in Red River’s downtown historic district.
“Good,” he called after her. “I’ll bring dinner, so don’t eat.”
When she got to her office, she traipsed up the salted stairs and stomped her feet on the mat in front of the door. As she reached for the doorknob, she chuckled at the new lettering on the door. Barbetta-Holloway & Perez. After surviving breast cancer at a young age, Angelique Barbetta had resolved never to marry because she’d felt disfigured. When she fell madly in love with Red River’s handsome country doctor—who Kimberly had nicknamed Dr. Tall, Dark, and Hotsome—and they tied the knot, Angelique had still refused to give up her maiden name and hyphenated it just to tease her wonderful husband.
Kimberly pushed through the door and started pulling off her winter coat to leave in the foyer. “Ang? Are you here?”
“Yep,” came a response from Angelique’s office.
Kimberly’s Uggs squeaked as she walked into Angelique’s office and plopped into a chair in front of the desk. “Now that you’ve added my name to the firm, you do realize I can never get married, right?” Not that she planned to, but she loved to goad her friend about the hyphenated name.
Angelique turned away from her computer and braced her elbows against the desk. “What? Why?”
“Because I’d have to hyphenate my
name, too, and it would look ridiculous on the door.” Kimberly slumped down in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “And don’t get me started on the letterhead and business cards. All those names would never fit.”
Angelique glanced at her Apple watch. “Is that what has you in a prickly mood so early in the morning?” She pulled off her glasses, her dark Italian eyes narrowing. “You’re worried about how our names will look when you marry…” She tapped her chin, as though she was puzzled. “Who is it you’re planning to marry, by the way?”
“No one!” Kimberly let both of her arms hang limp over the sides of the chair.
“Exactly.” Angelique slid the glasses back onto her nose and went back to typing. “So, what’s with all the theatrics at this early hour?”
“I bombed at the council meeting.” Kimberly threw an arm over her face.
Angelique stopped typing, dipped her chin, and looked over the rim of her tortoise glasses. “You’re an awesome communicator. The best I’ve ever seen at negotiating disputes and delivering closing arguments. It couldn’t have been that bad.”
Normally, that would be true. Until a certain mechanic had walked in and labeled her as the Red River Grinch. “Girlfriend, I bombed so badly that I took out half of North America.”
“What in the world happened at that meeting?” Angelique asked.
Kimberly relayed the whole story.
When she was done, Angelique said, “Damn. Those two elderly sisters were scary enough with their purse and cane. Who the heck gave Ms. Clydelle a gavel?”
“No idea.” Kimberly shook her head. “But I swear, I think it was monogramed with her initials, and she’s obviously not afraid to use it. Maybe I should go confront her one on one and tell her that I simply refuse to do what she says. I could dig my heels in and do the Wishing Tree, but none of the other decorations, since the tree accomplishes my goal to begin with.” The thought of standing up to Ms. Clydelle was actually kind of unnerving, even for a tough girl like Kimberly who’d had to fend for herself most of her life.
It's In His Christmas Wish (A Red River Valley Novel Book 7) Page 3