by Donna Alward
The carols playing on the stereo could barely be heard over the chatter and happy laughter of the kids. Cate arrived, using her crutches to get around, and Hope felt a surge of pleasure knowing that the little girl would have her sleigh ride complete with bells.
Hope looked around the busy room with a lump in her throat. This was how things should be, she realized. Loud and crazy and happy, with the sound of children’s voices echoing through the house and the lingering scent of fresh-baked cookies in the air. It all felt so right that it caused an ache deep inside her. This was what she’d wanted for her sisters. For herself. And despite Gram’s best efforts, and Hope’s, it had never quite come to pass. But here—here it happened so effortlessly.
It was a bit of a miracle, really, and she wondered if Blake truly appreciated the magnitude of what he was doing with Bighorn. It was more than therapy. It was home. This was his family, she realized. Not by blood, but by love. He was the cord that bound them all together.
She blinked away a sheen of moisture on her eyes. If she wasn’t careful she was going to leave a bit of herself behind when she left, and she wasn’t sure she had too many pieces to spare.
“Ready for the first sleigh ride?” Blake’s voice sounded close to her ear, the warmth of his breath sending tingles over her neck and down her spine.
“There’s more than one?”
“I’ll need to do two for sure, to fit everyone in.”
“Won’t I take up a valuable seat?” She turned her head slightly, angling her chin to look into his face.
His eyes were twinkling—he really enjoyed all this Christmas stuff, didn’t he? He was going to make a wonderful Santa Claus. He’d make a wonderful father too—if he ever settled down and started a family. She wondered again why he hadn’t.
“You can sit up with me,” he said. “And get the carols started.”
“Carols?”
He shook his head dolefully. “Hope, are you telling me you’ve never been on a sleigh ride?”
“Never.”
“Then you’d best get your coat and boots and bundle up warm. It’s high time you experienced one.”
And then he was gone, to organize the first round of kids.
She met them outside, bundled as warm as she could be in heavy mittens and a hat, and one of Blake’s goosedown jackets that was too big but the warmest thing she’d ever worn. The sleigh waited, hitched to two huge horses that stood so patiently Hope was sure they qualified as gentle giants. One shook his head, making the bells ring out merrily.
Cate clapped her hands at the sound. “Mister Blake, you do have bells!”
Blake tucked blankets around the knees of the passengers and rubbed the top of Cate’s pom-pommed hat. “Didn’t Hope promise you we would?”
Cate spun around to look at Hope. “You were right! He does have bells!”
The research, the drive, the money, the awkward moment with Blake this morning—all was worth it when she saw the smile on Cate’s face.
“Of course!” she replied with a laugh. “What’s a sleigh ride without bells?”
Hope climbed up front with Blake and nudged him with her elbow. “You’ve made Christmas for her, you know. Probably for all of them.”
“They make mine, too,” he replied quietly. He turned sideways and called back, “Everyone ready?”
“Yeah!” went up the chorus.
He gave the reins a gentle slap and the team started off. The runners squeaked on the snow, and Hope could smell the freshness of the air mingled with the pleasant smell of horses. Once they passed through the open gate to one of the pastures Blake urged the team into a trot, picking up the speed and causing some squeals in the back. Before long the first chorus of “Jingle Bells” started without any prompting from Hope, accompanied by the percussion of the bells on the harness. After “Jingle Bells” came “Silent Night,” the young voices so sweet that Hope felt a stinging behind her eyes.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “You were right. This is special, Blake.”
“Didn’t you have fun Christmases at home?”
She shrugged. “Not so much. I tried, and Gram definitely tried, but most of the time either my parents were split and my dad was missing, or they were together and things were so tense that it just felt wrong, you know? After they split for good it was worse. We usually spent Christmas with Gram, but our mother wasn’t always around.”
“I’m sorry, Hope.”
She shrugged again, not wanting to delve too deeply into those feelings. “It is what it is, you know? I tried for a long time to step into that role, but it was a bit much to expect from a young girl. After a while I gave up.”
“You were too young to be the mother.”
She shrugged. “My sisters resented me for it, I think. I was only trying to help, but to them I was being bossy. I forgot how to have fun—thought that if I somehow kept things together maybe things would work out. That it would help Mom so she’d want to be around more. And if she were around more she’d be happier with Dad...” She paused, wondering how much to confess. “It was too much pressure to put on myself. The snowball fight the other day...? I haven’t done anything spontaneous like that in years.”
“Everything’s precisely planned?”
“I don’t get disappointed that way. I’ve had a lot of disappointments, Blake. I’ve learned not to have high expectations.”
The song changed to the more upbeat “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” The bells rang out merrily and the cold made their skin pink and vibrant.
“I hope you’re not disappointed now,” Blake replied, handling the reins easily in one gloved hand as they maneuvered through another gate into a grove of trees.
He put his free arm along the back of the seat, not quite an embrace, but she felt the intimacy of it anyway. It made her long to lean against his shoulder and let all her troubles go.
The tall spruces on either side made the setting even better, adding the spicy scent of their needles to the winter potpourri.
“Today’s a good day,” she said simply, afraid to say any more lest emotion get the better of her.
Truthfully, today felt like a fairy tale. In her quest for perfection over the years she’d forgotten what it was like to enjoy simple pleasures. She’d pushed so much of her old life aside—things like hearing children’s laughter and baking cookies and not worrying about how she looked and enjoying the moment.
Her quest for the perfect picture wasn’t important right now. Perhaps it wasn’t important at all anymore. She was living a sterile, scheduled existence, hiding behind a camera instead of participating in her own life.
She needed to fix that. She wasn’t quite sure how, but she hoped that the trip to Beckett’s Run would help. It was a start, anyway.
The horses picked up their pace as the back of the house came into view again, their necks bobbing as they led the way home.
“You coming on the next run?” Blake asked. “Or are you too cold?”
His shoulder buffered hers, and it would be so easy to slide over another inch or two and lean against him, swaying to the rhythm of the horses’ gait. She was tempted, but she knew it wouldn’t solve anything. Leaving was going to be difficult enough.
She shook her head. “I think I’ll help Anna in the kitchen.”
“Don’t forget, when I get back it’s Santa time.”
Her heart thudded. “I haven’t forgotten.”
They pulled to a stop and Blake hopped down, then offered his hand to Hope to help her out of the seat. She put her mittened hand in his and jumped, landing so close to him the zippers of their jackets touched. For a prolonged second they paused, looking in each other’s eyes.
Hope finally looked away. “Santa’d better get a move on,” she murmured, and skirted around him toward the house.
As she went inside she heard his cheerful voice instructing the next round of kids where to sit, more laughter. She felt a strange sense of belonging and yet not b
elonging. Because this wasn’t hers. She was only borrowing it for today. And it was getting harder and harder to remember that.
* * *
Blake had thought he was prepared for Hope as an elf, but he’d been very, very wrong.
Once the horses had been unhitched and put in their stalls he’d come in the back door to get ready for his stint as Santa. He was sneaking down the hall when he caught sight of her, all dressed in green. He should have known that, with her height, her legs would go on forever. The green tights clung to her legs, emphasizing the lean length of them, and the tunic with its scalloped edges skirted the tops of her thighs. Even with the ridiculous hat and shoes she was one heck of a sexy elf.
He changed into his Santa suit, stuffing the coat with a fat bed pillow and hooking the white beard over his ears before putting on his cap. Black boots rounded out the costume, and Anna had stitched him up a red sack made from fleece. Inside were presents for each child—a toy and a treat. He hadn’t been extravagant, but that was hardly the point. Each item had been carefully chosen and wrapped.
“Ho, ho, ho!” he boomed, stepping into the living room with the sack over his shoulder.
Eyes widened, and one small voice whispered reverently, “It’s Santa!”
Blake wasn’t sure how convincing he was going to be—he was probably a good deal taller than most Santas, he only hoped the beard concealed his scar, and keeping up the deep, booming voice was going to be a challenge. But he took a seat in a chair by the tree and did his best.
“Santa’s got a good little helper this year! Do you all know Hope? Doesn’t she make a pretty elf?”
He nearly laughed at the mortified expression on Hope’s face as all eyes turned to her.
“Well,” she replied, clearing her throat, “if Santa came all this way for our party, it’s only right he should have a helping hand, don’t you think?”
“Yeah!”
Excitement bubbled up and out, and everyone looked to Blake again. Hope sent him a wink that said she knew what he was up to—and she was going along with it.
“Hope, maybe you can give Santa a hand by taking the presents out of that sack.” He looked down at the children. “Did you all want presents? My elves have worked very hard this year. I hope you’ve all been good.”
“I’ve been good, Thanta!” one girl called out with an adorable lisp.
There were more shouts and laughs and Blake chuckled at one little boy who was so excited he was almost vibrating.
Dutifully Hope came forward and reached into the bag, pulling out the first present. She handed it to him and he let his eyes twinkle up at her. Little did she know, but this was only the first of the surprises in store for her today.
“Says here this present is for Chad,” Blake boomed. “Come on up, Chad, and get your present.”
Chad, who had suffered a spinal cord injury when he was three, shuffled up to Blake with a wide smile. “For me?”
“For you,” Blake said, handing over the present.
And so it went on until, just as he’d planned, there was one box left in the bottom of the sack.
“Ho, ho, ho,” he said deeply as he picked it up. “It feels like there is something else in here.”
Hope had a wrinkle between her eyebrows. “But everyone has a present,” she said.
He reached into the bag and took out the small box. “Says here this one is for Hope. Ho, ho, ho!” He looked up at her expectantly. “Hope, come sit on Santa’s knee while he gives you your present.” He patted his thigh.
“I think I’ll stand—thanks anyway, Santa.”
“Sit on his knee!” called Cate.
“Yeah,” shouted a few others, “sit on Santa’s lap, Hope!”
With a dark look aimed just at him, Hope came closer and perched on his knee. “I’ll get you for this,” she murmured, just loud enough that he could hear.
“I’m counting on it,” he whispered back, but then continued on in his booming, jolly voice, “Now, Santa has a long trip after this, so I think he needs a little something to keep him warm.”
“Hot chocolate!” shouted someone.
His grin widened. “Need to watch the waistline,” he said, patting his round stomach. “After all, I’ll be getting lots of milk and cookies very soon. What about a kiss from Hope here?” He touched a finger to his cheek. “Come on, Hope. Give Santa a kiss.”
Her eyes were like daggers, but she smiled sweetly and dutifully pecked his cheek. “Santa’s beard is scratchy,” she announced.
He handed over the present. “Don’t open it here,” he whispered, then boosted her off his lap and picked up the empty bag. “Well, Santa must be getting back. Reindeer-training, you know. Merry Christmas, everyone!”
He added in a few extra ho, ho, hos as he waded through wads of wrapping paper to the door and slipped outside. Then he made his way to the back of the house and stripped down to his T-shirt and long johns. So no curious eyes would catch sight of the bright red suit he left the suit on the back step to collect later and hurried out of the cold, darting inside and sneaking to his room, where he changed into his jeans and shirt. He pulled on his jacket, went out the back door and around to the front, and made a show of coming back in again.
“What’d I miss?”
“Oh, Mister Blake, Santa was here!” Cate’s excitement quivered in her voice. “And he got me a new doll!”
“Santa? When I was stuck out in the barn putting the horses up for the night?”
“You missed it! Hope sat on his knee and kissed him an’ everything!”
His gaze strayed to Hope. She was still in her elf getup, still strikingly beautiful. As their eyes met he suddenly wished for the party to be over, so he could put the next part of his plan in motion.
This was their last night together. No more television in the evenings. No more watching her work on her laptop with those silly glasses on her face. No more kisses in the snow or by the flickering light of the tree. He didn’t want the day to be over, but he did want the evening to get started. He’d promised her a good memory, after all. He wanted it, too. If this was all he was going to have from her he wanted it to be a night to remember.
“Well, I’m sorry I missed that,” he replied to Cate, dragging his eyes away from Hope.
“Okay, everyone, before you go I want a group picture,” Hope called out, picking up her camera once more. “In front of the tree. Blake, you get on your knees. And, moms and dads, if you could help out...”
Blake followed orders, wondering how Hope was dealing with the chaos of trying to set the shot. She was always so worried about lighting and balance and things being in the right place. But before he knew it she was directing them to smile and say “Merry Christmas” and it was over.
Things started to wind down after that; parents got kids ready to go home, Anna and Hope began clearing away platters and bowls and cups.
Blake retrieved his Santa suit and put it away, and as Hope changed out of her elf costume he packed a Thermos of fresh cocoa and a basket of goodies. It was fully dark outside, crisp and cool, and if his hunch was right nature was going to put on a show later tonight. A show he didn’t want Hope to miss.
CHAPTER TEN
HOPE packed away the elf costume and changed back into her jeans and a fuzzy sweater with pockets. She tucked Blake’s present inside one, running her fingers over the foil wrapping and soft ribbon. Her lips still tingled from kissing his cheek, and the fake beard had been soft, not scratchy as she’d said.
The whole day had been disturbingly perfect—a word she didn’t use often. But there wasn’t another word to describe the way she was feeling. Happy. Complete. Wonderful.
Perfect.
The only thing marring the perfection was knowing it was going to be over and tomorrow she’d be saying goodbye.
Anna was putting on her coat when Hope wandered back to the kitchen.
“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” Anna asked. “To see you off?”
&nbs
p; “I don’t leave until eleven,” Hope assured her, a heavy feeling settling in her stomach.
She really was leaving here tomorrow. On the one hand she was actually looking forward to seeing Gram and her sisters...and, if she were being honest, even her mom and dad, if what Faith said about them getting along was true. But on the other hand, she was going to be sad to leave. Only a little over a week ago she’d been determined to find a hotel and stay somewhere else. Now it was hard to imagine spending Christmas anywhere else.
As Anna’s car pulled out of the drive Blake came back in. It felt odd somehow, intimate, and with a layer of tension that was unexpected just by being alone together. He had his outdoor gear on again, and she wondered if he had late-night chores that needed doing.
“Bundle up,” he suggested, standing in the doorway. “Night’s not over yet.”
A strange sort of twirling started through her tummy as his gaze seemed to bore straight through to the heart of her. “It’s not?”
“Not by a long shot. I have something to show you. I hope. Meet me outside in five minutes?”
She nodded. It was their last night. She couldn’t imagine not going along with whatever he had planned.
When Hope stepped outside first she heard the bells. Once down the steps and past the snowbank she saw that Blake had hitched the horses to the sleigh again. It was dark, but the sliver of moon cast an ethereal glow on the snow and the stars twinkled in the inky sky. A moonlight sleigh ride. She’d guessed there was something of the romantic in him, but this went beyond her imagining.
The practical side of her cautioned her to be careful. But the other side...the side that craved warmth and romance and intimacy...the side that she’d packaged carefully away years ago so as to protect it...urged her to get inside the sleigh and take advantage of every last bit of holiday romance she could. It was fleeting, after all. And too good to miss.
Blake sat on the bench in the driver’s seat, reins in his left hand while he held out his right. “Come with me?”
She gripped his hand and stepped up and onto the seat. He’d placed a blanket on the wood this time, a cushion against the hard surface. A basket sat in between their feet.