“Back issues of the Gazette. Small-town papers are great fun to read.”
“They have the actual newspapers tucked away somewhere?”
“No, those would be crumbling to dust by now, but a forward-thinking person digitized them before that happened.”
“Are you a history buff?”
“Not all history, but this little town and its inhabitants fascinate me. When I get hooked on something, I like to dig into every aspect of it. One day I’d like to sit down with Henri Fox and hear more about the history of her ranch.”
“I’m sure she’d enjoy that.”
“You know Henri?”
Uh-oh. “Doesn’t everybody?”
“I suppose that’s true. And clearly you know Ben, so logically you know Henri. Ben mentioned you wanted this gig because you’re a big fan of Christmas.”
“I am.”
“What’s your favorite part?”
“I like all of it, but I have a feeling tonight might turn out to be my favorite. What’s yours?”
“Good question.”
“Mannheim Steamroller?”
“Probably, now that you mention it. I like the spin they put on the traditional carols.”
“How about Christmas trees? Everybody usually likes—”
“The one on the square is beautiful. Personally, I’ve never had one.”
“Are you opposed to cutting them?”
“Not if they’re harvested responsibly. But I’m not steeped in the usual traditions like so many people. My parents have never celebrated Christmas. They say it’s too commercial.”
Her stance surprised the heck out of him. “It certainly can be.” Before signing on at the Buckskin, he would have agreed with her folks. “Does Ben know this about you?”
“He might. I haven’t made a secret of it. I decorated the store for the holidays because that makes good business sense. I play Christmas music in the store and wish everyone a Merry Christmas, but I haven’t been moved to get a tree for my apartment.”
“Why did you agree to be Santa’s elf?”
“Are you kidding? That’s a huge honor and I’ll be helping pass out toys to kids who don’t have much. Beth couldn’t say enough about what fun she had. I wasn’t going to turn down the chance just because I’m not totally into Christmas.”
He got it, now. Ben might have had other candidates for the job, like Garrett, for instance. But for a Christmas cheerleader like Ben, the chance to make a convert had been irresistible. Then he’d entrusted the job to Leo.
No worries. He could do two things at once. He was Santa. He had powers. And questions. “If your folks don’t approve of Christmas, how do they avoid it? It’s everywhere.”
“They suffer through November and half of December. Then they take off for some remote area for two or three weeks. They told me where they were going this year but I honestly can’t remember. I just know they’ll be out of cellphone range most of the time.”
“Did they invite you to go along?”
She laughed. “Naturally, but this is my busiest time, my most lucrative couple of weeks. Ironic, huh?”
“Do you think the merchants in Apple Grove commercialize Christmas?”
“Not really. Do they take advantage of the gift-giving season? Sure. That’s good business. I do it, too. But it’s not hard-sell, in your face.”
“And it doesn’t start too early.”
“That’s huge. It became obvious when I was location scouting. I came to town the second week in November. Not a hint of Christmas anywhere. I asked around and learned that nothing Christmas-related happens until after Thanksgiving weekend.”
“Is that why you chose this town?”
“One of the reasons. I was also determined to get out of my comfort zone by choosing somewhere totally different from where I grew up.”
“Where was that?”
“Phoenix. Tempe, more precisely. My folks are college professors at ASU. I was supposed to be one, too. They think I’ve lost my mind.”
“Mine think the same about me.”
“Oh, yeah? What were you supposed to be?”
“Famous.”
“Doing what?”
“I need to take a rain check on that topic.” Thank God. He could kick himself for saying as much as he had. Way to blow his cover too early. “We’re almost to the Emerson place. What are the kids’ names? I remember Bobbie. Is the next one Jackie?”
“Let me look. Yes. Bobbie is seven and Jackie is five. Molly is twenty months.”
“Bobbie, then Jackie, then Molly. Got it.” He turned off the main road where a battered mailbox was lettered with the name Emerson. He’d been out here a couple of years ago, before Molly was born. The Babes had heard that Bob Emerson was laid up with a bum ankle, his wife was pregnant, and they had a major fence issue that needed attention.
The Brotherhood had fixed the fence and rounded up the sheep that had escaped. Trudy Emerson had insisted on making them lunch. They’d eaten sparingly, but refusing what she’d offered would have been rude.
Bob and Trudy worked hard and cared deeply for each other. Thank goodness they’d reached out to Ben for help with Christmas gifts for the kids.
Although there wasn’t much of a yard, they’d created a walkway of salvaged bricks that led up to the front porch. A string of Christmas lights stretched across the eaves. A tree placed in a front window glowed with lights, too. Bob and Trudy were doing their best.
Leo pulled up next to the walkway and the porch light flicked on. “I’d like to help you down, Fi, but I think it’s best if we exit fast and meet by the tailgate.”
“Right on, Santa. Bobbie, Jackie and Molly.”
“Thanks.” He shut off the motor, climbed out as quickly as the bulky suit allowed, and hurried to the back of the truck.
Fiona, dressed in a more forgiving outfit than his, beat him there. She grabbed the tailgate and lowered it with brisk efficiency. “Which bag?”
“One of these on the top layer, and it’s marked, but it’s black as pitch back here. I should’ve—”
“Allow me, Santa.” Fiona activated her flashlight on her phone and scanned the tags. “This one.”
He grabbed it off the top of the pile and slung it over his shoulder. “Have you done this before?”
“No, but I’m a quick study.”
“Just how smart are you?”
“Let’s just say that nobody could beat me at Tetris. This bag arrangement reminds me of it.”
“I wonder if I have that app on my phone.”
“Not now. The Emersons just came out the front door. It’s show time.”
Chapter Four
The Emerson kids were on springs, hopping around the porch in giddy abandon. Fiona wanted to run up the steps and dance with those cuties. All three were curly-haired redheads like their mom. They wore jackets over their pajamas but only Molly’s was zipped. Their parents tried in vain to settle them down.
Clark approached the porch with a hearty ho, ho, ho, and a jolly Merry Christmas. The closer he got, the quieter Molly became. The other two stopped jumping, too, gazing at Santa with rapt attention as he lowered his sack to the porch steps. Molly scooted behind her mom’s leg and peered out at the large man in the red and white suit.
Crouching, Clark put himself at eye level with her. “Hello, Molly.” His gentle tone mimicked Ben’s exactly.
She ducked behind her mom, poked her head out once, eyes wide, and hastily retreated again.
“She’s shy.” Jackie hopped down one step. “I’m not. I’m five.” She held up one hand, fingers spread.
Clark held up his gloved hand, palm out. “Congrats, Jackie.”
She smacked her palm against his and grinned. “Thanks.” She jumped down another step. “Who’s that?” She pointed toward Fiona.
“Sorry, I should have introduced her first thing. I’d like you all to meet…Perky, my number one elf.” He glanced her way and winked.
Perky? He’d clea
rly come up with that on the fly. She could do better. By the next stop, she’d have a new name. She smiled and sketched a bow. “Pleased to meet all of you.”
Jackie swung her arms back and forth. “Where’s your reindeer?”
“I gave them time off.”
“Oh. That’s nice. Aren’t you gonna ask me if I’ve been good?”
Clark choked and cleared his throat. “I was just getting to that.”
“I’ve been good all the time. Except for breaking a glass on accident. I don’t get in trouble like Bobbie. He—”
“I don’t get in trouble that much.” He walked down two steps and stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Claus.”
Fiona melted. Such a grown-up boy. Jackie was a kick and Molly…oh, my God…too cute for words. She wanted to take them all home.
“Pleased to meet you, Bobbie.” Clark shook his hand. Then he rose to his feet. “Well, Perky, we have Jackie, who’s always good and Bobbie, who’s usually good, and Molly, who we’ll assume is good, so—”
“Not always.” Jackie looked over her shoulder at her little sister. “She pulls hair.”
Bobbie sighed. “She does, but she’s getting better. She should get presents, too.”
Molly popped out from behind her mother’s thigh. “Me, too!” She giggled and disappeared again.
Clark turned his laughter into a cough. Then he cleared his throat. “Perky, would you like to help me pass out their gifts?”
“I sure would, Santa!” Maybe Clark couldn’t let himself laugh. Mimicking Ben’s voice was doable. Mimicking his laugh, or anyone’s for that matter, would be tricky.
“One more thing, kids.” He turned and gazed solemnly at Bobbie and Jackie. “Promise me you’ll wait and open your presents on Christmas.”
Bobbie snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.”
Jackie considered the matter for a couple of seconds. Then she nodded. “Okay, I promise, but Mommy and Daddy have to watch Molly. She won’t wait.”
“We’ll watch her, punkin,” her dad said. “We’ll put her presents in a safe place.”
After Clark opened the bag, Fiona helped him sort through the contents—nine gifts, three for each child. Fiona quietly handed Molly’s up to her mother, but gave the two older kids theirs to hold.
Bobbie cradled his carefully and said thank you each time one was handed to him.
Jackie did some squeezing and shaking of hers before looking up at Clark. “I was just feeling them. I won’t open a single one.”
He smiled. “I’m counting on you.”
“You can, Santa. You really can.” Her eyes glowed with excitement.
Bobbie’s face lit up, too, although he was working hard to keep his cool.
Molly came out from behind her mother, dropped to her hands and knees and started crawling backwards down the steps, clearly ready to get in on whatever was happening. “Me, too! Me, too!”
Her dad retrieved her, which didn’t go well. She wiggled and protested. “Down! Down!”
Fiona glanced at Clark. “What now?”
“I’ve got this.” Digging to the bottom of the sack, he came up with a plush moose the size of his fist. “There’s two more in there.” He climbed the steps and held out the moose. “Here you go, Molly.”
Fiona located the other two and passed them to Bobbie and Jackie. Then she glanced at Molly, who’d clutched the soft toy to her chest and started crooning to it. Disaster averted.
The little girl looked up, smiled at Clark and angled her body in his direction, lips puckered.
Her dad laughed. “She wants to give you a kiss. She’s learned that’s a good way to thank people.”
“I’d be honored.” Clark leaned in, offering his cheek.
She pressed her rosebud mouth to it. Then she giggled and made a grab for his beard.
He dodged, but she managed to tangle her fingers in the fake hair. The beard started to give way.
“Hey, kids!” Fiona made a quick bid for their attention. “Want to see me dance a jig?” Arms propped at her hips, she did her best imitation of the Irish step dancers she’d seen in concert several times. She made those little bells tinkle like crazy.
Her efforts weren’t professional quality, but they entertained Bobbie and Jackie long enough for the two parents to loosen Molly’s grip and for Clark to adjust his beard.
During that process, Fiona got a glimpse of a square, smooth-shaven jaw. If the rest of his face matched that manly jaw….
Was Clark nice-looking under the beard, mustache and fake eyebrows? Ben had said he was about her age. Was he single? Likely he was if he’d chosen to deliver presents instead of snuggling with his sweetheart tonight.
His strong desire to play Santa for little kids was appealing and he seemed to be having fun doing it. Ben liked and trusted him or he wouldn’t have handed over the job.
The possibility that Clark might be…well, a possibility intrigued her. So far she’d enjoyed herself. He was easy to talk to and evidently they shared a similar background—taking a career path totally different from the one their respective parents had envisioned.
Once the beard was firmly in place, Clark turned to her. “Time to make our next delivery, Perky!
“Aye, aye, Santa! Merry Christmas, everybody!” She blew them all kisses as she grabbed the empty bag and hurried back to the truck.
Clark said his goodbyes, waved and caught up with her in time to hand her into the truck. “Just toss the empty bag in the back seat.”
“Got it. She fastened her seat belt and grabbed her phone to key in the next address.
Rounding the hood, he opened the driver’s door, stood on the running board and raised his voice. “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” Then he slid into the seat, closed the door and buckled up. “We need to make tracks.” He backed around and headed down the dirt road.
“Yeah, we do.” She counted the names on the list. “If we take that much time with each family, we’ll be done around—”
“Three in the morning?”
She laughed. “Something like that. I have the next place located. Left at the main road, right at the four-way stop, third house on the right.”
“Great. Thanks. How many kids?”
“Only one. Georgie Warner. Single mom. Shouldn’t take as long.”
“I sure lost track of time at the Emerson place. That Jackie is something else.”
“She’s a pip, all right. Total contrast to her adorably proper brother.”
“And Molly! What a cutie-pie. Ben warned me it would be a challenge to keep things moving. I assured him I’d have no trouble getting it all done by nine.”
“Nine?”
“If we don’t, the kids will be in bed. Nine’s the outer limit.”
“Good point.” She counted the names on the list. “We’re in trouble.”
“I know. Nice dance, by the way.”
“I don’t think Jackie and Bobbie saw anything.”
“I know Jackie didn’t. She’s such a pistol she would have asked how come my beard wasn’t attached.”
Fiona laughed. “That’s for sure.”
“I should’ve anticipated Molly would make that move. Jackie warned me her sister pulls hair. How old is Georgie?”
“Two and a half.”
“He might be past the hair-pulling stage, but I won’t take any chances.”
“Would you like me to keep track of the time for you?”
“That would be awesome. How about a reminder at the five-minute mark?”
“Sure. I’ll glance at my phone and say Incoming message from Mrs. Claus.”
“Perfect. Gives me a graceful way to speed things up. Okay, third house, you said?”
“Yep. The yellow one with the porch light on.”
“I couldn’t do this without you, Perky.”
“We’re changing my name, by the way.”
“You don’t like Perky?”
“Nope. I prefer Galadriel.”
/> “From Lord of the Rings?”
“Yessir.”
He laughed. “I like it. Suits your blond hair, too. Galadriel it is.”
“Are you a fan?” His laugh was familiar. Where had she heard it before?
“I’ve only seen the movies. Never read the books. My little sis, though, she’s read them all, more than once. She owns the movies, too.”
“So do I. And the books. Does your sister live in Apple Grove? We could geek out together over Tolkien.”
“Penelope doesn’t live here. Wish she did.” He pulled to a stop in front of the yellow house. “I saw a little face peeking out the window. We’d better get a move on.”
“Yep.” She flipped open her seat belt. They couldn’t afford to dawdle, but she wished they hadn’t had to interrupt the conversation just when it was getting interesting.
She wanted to know more about his Tolkien-obsessed sister. And why his parents had expected him to become famous.
Oh, and next time they had a chance to talk, she’d think of a joke. Maybe a Christmas joke. She wanted to hear him laugh again. Maybe that would jog her memory about where she’d heard it.
Chapter Five
Leo swiftly left the truck, both to speed up the delivery of toys and slow down his delivery of personal info. Giving Fiona a chance to know and like him without revealing his identity was a complicated dance.
And speaking of dancing, he’d wanted to give her a big hug and a hot kiss after her Irish jig. Cute as hell. Sexy, too. Maybe someday….
Should he have mentioned Penelope? Maybe not, but when Fiona had wanted to change her elf name, he’d been hit with a wave of nostalgia. His kid sister had gone trick-or-treating as Galadriel several years in a row. She’d grown her blond hair to her waist so she’d look more like the elvish queen. He missed Penny. Time to make the phone call he owed her.
By the time he reached the tailgate, Fiona was already there, lowering it for him. He spotted the bag easily since it was right next to the empty space left by the Emerson delivery. This one was lighter than theirs since it only held three gifts and the plush moose.
Thank God Ben had the foresight to tuck a moose for each kid in the bags so they had something to hold onto while they waited for the big day. Some older kids might think they were too mature for a stuffed moose. But when they weren’t used to getting anything, that little moose would likely be a big hit.
Secret-Santa Cowboy: The Buckskin Brotherhood Page 3