Montana Secret Santa

by Debra Salonen

  “Well, this year is going to be different. Trust me.”

  “Dad, I have a meeting in twenty minutes with my new client. I’ll call you next week, okay?”

  “Sure, sweetheart. But, just remember, your mom and I aren’t getting any younger. If not now, when?”

  A new guilt line. Great. Just what I need.

  Half an hour later, breathless and shivering because she hadn’t had time to completely dry her hair, she dashed into Copper Mountain Chocolates. New displays seemed to have sprung up overnight. Had Sage Carrington employed an army of elves to make chocolate and wrap boxes in shiny copper paper adorned with classy red and green velvet ribbons?

  “Good morning, Dakota,” she called, surprised to see so few customers in line. “How are you today?”

  The young woman’s smile seemed distracted. “We’ve been crazy busy filling online orders. That’s good, right? Must be your social media ads.”

  Krista liked the sound of that, but she knew face-to-face interaction with customers was important to Sage. She had an idea that might kill two proverbial birds with one small investment of time on Jonah’s part. She debated about how to bring up the idea as she walked to the table where Jonah, Sarah Zabrinski, and Louise Jenkins were sitting.

  Sarah and Louise shared a tablet while Jonah had his laptop open. The serious frowns on all three faces made her pull up abruptly. “Hi, everyone. What’s wrong? Did one of Santa’s eight tiny reindeer get hit by a bus or something?”

  Sarah glanced up. “Close. Tell her, Jonah.”

  “I got thinking about what Em said about the interest in Secret Santa falling off so abruptly from last year. That just didn’t make any sense to me, so I went to the post office this morning and look what I found.”

  He pointed to a box the size of a microwave oven. “Go ahead. Open it up.”

  A bad feeling made her breath catch in the back of her throat. She eased open the folded over tab of cardboard to see several hundred envelopes. “Oh, my gosh. Are those all Secret Santa letters?”

  Sarah nodded. “Robert’s still talking to the post master, but apparently someone mislabeled our post office box on the working side. Our mail has been collecting in the box below ours.”

  “For how long?”

  “Three weeks,” Jonah said. “That’s the date of the last donation Louise deposited in the bank.”

  “How come no one at the post office noticed?”

  “Apparently, the owner of the wrong box doesn’t live here year-round. They bundle his mail and forward it once a month.”

  “If you hadn’t asked about this today, they might have sent all these to him?” Krista sat down heavily. “That’s crazy. What are we going to do?”

  “On it,” Louise said holding up her phone. “I called a local crafters group that meets at the library to spread the word. Several members should be showing up any minute.”

  “We’ll use them for triage,” Jonah said. “Contributions in one pile, requests in another.”

  Krista took off her jacket and pushed up the sleeves of her lightweight wool sweater. “What can I do?”

  “We need to let people know what happened. Can you write a press release that explains the situation without throwing the post office completely under the bus?” He made a funny face. “A nonfatal, glancing blow would be okay, but don’t make them hate us. We still need their goodwill.”

  She took a big gulp from her mug of cocoa then opened her laptop. “Spin doctor at work. You got it.”

  Twenty minutes later, she looked up to find Jonah studying her. She touched her hair self-consciously. “What?”

  “You’re extraordinarily beautiful when you’re laser focused.”

  She rubbed her nose to hide her blush. “When I write ad copy, I try to put myself in the place of the person reacting to it. I always like to add a touch of humor to ease the human error aspect.”

  She turned her laptop around and nudged it across the small table for Jonah to read. “Elves are human, too, right? We all get a little frazzled at this time of year.”

  She picked up her now-cold cocoa and looked around. She’d been so intent on her project she hadn’t even realized Sarah, Louise, and four strangers had moved to another table. The new women volunteers—one about Krista’s age with a baby strapped to her front—seemed happily engaged in a way that told her they were friends who worked well together.

  Her gaze returned to Jonah. She studied his face for some clue to his response to her words. His fingers dancing lightly over her keyboard made a shiver of wanting race through her body. They’d been together in her dream last night. Crazy, funny situations that included falling into some giant black body of water, him holding her so tightly she didn’t have time to be afraid.

  “It’s freakin’ perfect,” he said, looking up. “You nailed it.”

  He pulled a wallet from his hip pocket and tossed two hundred dollar bills on the table.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Your letter made me have to give money.”

  She laughed and relaxed. “You’re crazy.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” He hit a few keys before he closed the laptop and slid it back to her. “I forwarded this to everyone in the Secret Santa database and to the office supply store out by the mall. They’ll print postcards so we can reach our snail mail constituents. Do you have time for a field trip?”

  She checked her phone. “How long will it take?” She was supposed to have a telephone interview at eleven with the college student Amanda wanted to hire. “Do you have a car?”

  “Dad’s Jeep Wrangler. It’s four-wheel drive and so far I’ve managed to keep it on the road.” He polished off his drink in a masculine, head-tossed-back way that made her heart do another crazy little flip. “Snow and ice is not an issue in the Bay area.”

  After gathering up his things, he walked to the adjacent table to tell the others their plan. For a guy who claimed to lack people skills, he seemed to connect pretty darn well with middle-age women. Was it his clean-cut appearance or the way one lock of hair flopped across his brow in a little boy way? Lord knew she’d been tempted to brush it back a hundred times that morning.

  As he pulled on his overly large coat, he told her, “I have to stop by the house and pick up River Jack. He has an appointment to get his teeth cleaned. He’s less than thrilled.”

  His connection to his parents’ dogs intrigued her. She’d never had a pet growing up. Between flying back and forth between her parents to living in apartments, or sometimes, travel trailers on a movie lot, she’d learned not to get too attached to anything or anyone. Even friends. Amanda was the first truly close friend she could claim.

  “Do you have pets in California?”

  He held the door for her. “God, no. Or plants, either. When I’m focused on a project, I barely remember to eat, let alone feed a dog or water a plant. Learned that lesson the hard way.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks. “You killed a dog?”

  “A ficus benjamina. Beautiful plant. Deserved better than me.” He gave her a serious look. “I’ve had a couple of girlfriends tell me the same thing.”

  Hmm. He couldn’t have made that warning clearer if he’d spelled it out on a billboard. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. Well, neither was she.

  Which, in an odd way, made them perfect for each other.

  *

  Jonah held the back door of his parent’s house for Krista. He didn’t bother warning her not to go beyond the mudroom. The cacophony of barking from the other side of the inner door probably would have held back a fire brigade.

  “Are they happy to see you or ready to eat me alive?”

  “A little bit of both.”

  He closed the outer door, and then grabbed the three leashes hanging on hooks beside the dryer. His parents had added the laundry room-slash-pantry-slash-mudroom when he was in junior high. Although the addition included a heating duct from the furnace, they’d scrimped on insulation and
he could see his breath when he held the leashes to the window of what had been the exterior door at one time. “Doggies. Quiet.”

  He jiggled the leashes back and forth to produce a musical sound that brought silence. “They love to go for walks. They’re not the brightest bunch in the world, but they know to sit quietly until I have their leashes on.”

  That order didn’t prevent their tails from wagging energetically.

  “Even in winter?”

  “Especially in winter. But Bindi needs an extra coat. Would you mind grabbing one?”

  “Each dog has a cubby. How adorable,” she exclaimed, one hand on her puffy jacket just above her heart—or breast, if one possessed a dirty mind.

  “Mom taught every grade in elementary school, but kindergarten was her favorite.”

  She followed him into what Jonah liked to think was a warm, homey smelling kitchen. “That’s so sweet. May I use the restroom before we take off?”

  He gave her directions and watched her walk away, after giving each dog a tentative pat on the head. Her diffidence with the animals seemed understandable given their initial meeting.

  “Come here, Miss Bindi. This is the jacket Krista picked out. I hope you approve.”

  As he fitted the squirmy little dog with the red, white, and green tartan plaid wool coat trimmed in white fleece, he pictured Krista’s oh-how-sweet grin when she spotted Bindi’s selection of outerwear. Krista kept her soft side well hidden. He wished he knew why, but after a quick chat with his brother that morning, Jonah knew it was probably best to ignore the attraction he felt toward her.

  “Don’t do it, man. I don’t care how cute she is or how available. Why start something you know you’ll screw up the moment your next big idea strikes?”

  “What if my last idea was it? I haven’t had even an inkling of inspiration since I left California.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Something will come to you. It’s your pattern. Month one, you fall in love. Month two, she moves in and you set up house together. Month three, you dive into your next project, disappear into your lab, and month four, she sues you for breaking her heart.”

  “That only happened once. And Ghianna claimed I broke my promise, not her heart.” Jonah wasn’t entirely sure the ex-supermodel had one.

  “Still”—Daniel insisted in the way only a baby brother could—“she should know you’re a ‘relationship train wreck waiting to happen.’” The words were part of a meme Ghianna made famous when she shared it across social media.

  But Daniel had a point. Jonah’s relationship failures seemed like a pretty bad record—especially given the transitional nature of his life at the moment. For Krista’s sake, he needed to keep things friendly but not romantic. Which wasn’t going to be easy, given the fact he couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss under the mistletoe.

  Ten minutes later, with three excited hounds loaded into the back of the Jeep, Jonah headed toward Marietta’s newer shopping district. He preferred the rustic, old-time feel of Main Street and rarely ventured to the newer part of town, but a quick background check had told him Krista lived in a condo not far from where they were headed.

  “You live out here, don’t you?”

  She gave him an arched look. “Been checking up on me?”

  “I was going to offer to pick you up today.”

  “Oh.” She removed her lined leather gloves and shoved them into her coat pockets. “I tried to find something in walking distance to the office, but nothing was available at the time. The condo keeps things simple. No maintenance.”

  He nodded. “Mom and Dad have been talking about selling the house for that very reason. Fixing broken sprinkler lines and faulty plumbing gets old. I offered to buy them a new house after I sold my first start-up, but they got a little huffy. Mom said I mortally wounded Dad’s pride even though my heart had been in the right place.”

  She turned in the seat to look at him. “Maybe they just weren’t ready. That might change if your sister were to move back home.”

  “How—”

  “Your mom mentioned the idea. She has a tendency to ramble, doesn’t she?” She held up her hand. “I mean that in a good way. When my mother gets going, there’s no telling what kind of inappropriate family secret will come out of her mouth.”

  Mom had composed a long list of reasons of why leaving Florida was a good idea for his sister. Jonah had kept his opinion to himself. “Mom would like Gracie, Ella, and Ethan to move here, but Gracie told me she doesn’t plan to do anything until the authorities formally declare Matt—her husband—dead. No word on when that decision will be made. Limbo hell, she calls it.”

  To avoid the inevitable questions that arose from this topic, he changed the subject. “Did any of the Dear Santa letters you took home to read last night grab you? I found two that seemed genuinely heartfelt and doable.”

  “Really? I divided mine into three piles—lame, really lame, and you-can’t-believe-how lame.”

  “Define lame.”

  “There were at least four that started with, my teacher is the bomb. She deserves a trip to Hawaii over Christmas break, and since I thought of the idea, I should go, too.”

  “Oh. I had a few of those. Definitely lame. But then I read one from a woman whose sister just completed her final round of chemotherapy and felt too ugly to step outside her home. She asked if Santa could arrange some sort of spa treatment.”

  Krista snorted skeptically. “And while Santa was doing this kind deed, why not throw in a treatment for the sister who wrote the letter, too, right?”

  Her cynicism made him nearly overshoot the driveway to the vet. He stepped on the brake a bit too aggressively. The dogs let out yelps of surprise as they bounced into each other. “Oh, man. Sorry, guys. My bad. Treats on me as soon as we get parked.”

  He pulled into an open spot in front of the 1960s-era strip mall building but didn’t turn off the key. “I’ll leave the engine running so you don’t freeze. Are you okay hanging out with Bindi and Bear a minute?”

  “Sure. No problem.” She put a hand on his arm. “Did I say something wrong?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. You’re entitled to your opinion, but second-guessing everyone’s intentions seems a bit contrary to the spirit of the Secret Santa mission. Nobody is entirely selfless. One could argue that Mother Teresa was so good to the poor and dying because she was angling for a promotion from her Boss.”

  She chuckled but seemed poised to argue her point.

  “Look. I lost my rose-colored glasses years ago. I don’t take anything at face value, but I’ve decided my goal is to read each letter with one simple credo in mind—WWSD.”

  “Which stands for…”

  “What would Santa do?”

  He gave a little salute then got out.

  The look on her face? Best gift today.

  Whistling, he wrangled River Jack free from the pack, then braced his feet and unlocked his knees to gently lower the overweight dog to the ground. Jack seemed quite pleased with being singled out for special attention until he realized where he was going. The last few feet through the door to the front counter required tugging, coaxing and the promise of a treat or two.

  “It’s okay, boy,” he said to the dog, going down on one knee. “Mom says the vet’s going to give you some happy gas or a shot to put you to sleep. When you wake up, your teeth will be sparkly white and your breath will smell a lot better. Think what this will do for your self-esteem.”

  The comment drew a laugh from the woman standing behind him—with Bear and Bindi on their leashes. Krista looked from one dog to the other. “It was let them out or lose the car. I made an executive decision.”

  Jonah watched the three friends sniff each other as if they’d been separated for days. He reached into a glass jar labeled TREATS. He broke one in half for Jack then gave each dog a biscuit. “You know, for a Christmas skeptic, you’re a real pushover when it comes to dogs.”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell. “Their nee
ds are clear and straightforward and they let you know exactly what they want. Unlike people who say one thing, but really want something completely different.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was talking specific to her experience or about people in general. But he didn’t have a chance to ask because the veterinarian’s assistant approached with a simple plastic lead, which she looped around Jack’s thick neck. “Do you need help getting him on the table?” Jonah asked.

  “We’re good, thanks. River Jack’s been here before.” She stroked the animal from head to tail. “Looks like he’s lost a few pounds. That’s good. The doctor will be happy. We’ll call when he’s ready to go home.”

  Jonah felt silly for getting emotional, but his heart beat faster and his palms turned damp as he watched her lead the reluctant animal down the brightly lit hallway. He knew this was a simple procedure and Jack would be just fine, but with Jack’s weight issues anything could happen…

  Krista grabbed his sleeve and tugged. “Come on, Santa. I have an appointment in twenty minutes, remember? Let’s get these postcards in the mail so we can find more people to help—like the lady who needs a spa treatment and her sister.”

  He couldn’t decide if she was being flippant or merely humoring him. Did it matter? Not really. He’d already decided he and Krista didn’t have a future together—long-term or short. The sooner they got back to work, the better off he’d be. And the next time he had errands to do, he’d do them alone because even sitting in a car with Krista was too close for comfort.

  Chapter Six

  Jonah looked up from his laptop the moment the chocolate shop door opened. Krista was late. Krista was never late. In the week since their installment as the Secret Santa Society copresidents, they’d established a routine that included an eight-fifteen rendezvous at the chocolate shop.

  Once he established the person coming in was a stranger, he turned his attention to the snow drifting lazily across the wide picture window as if contrived by a movie set decorator. The blue sky he’d grown quite attached to had turned an ominous shade of gray. All the overheard snippets of conversation between Sage’s staff and customers seemed to focus on a forecasted storm front, which everyone hoped would miss them since this weekend was the Marietta Christmas Stroll, the event that more or less kicked off the holiday festivities in full force.