by Teri Wilson
Alec shook his head. He had no answer for that particular question.
“Would you relax?” She rolled her eyes. They looked even greener out here, surrounded by the vast field of white. Irish green, one of the park rangers at Olympic Forest used to call it. Alec was sure he could see a whole spectrum of color in that one single hue. “The tower has grounded all flights, both outgoing and incoming. I’m not going to get ‘splattered under the wheels of an airplane,’ as you so eloquently put it.”
“Really?” He lifted his brows.
“Really.” She resumed her march toward Palmer, who was now lying down in the center of the runway with his long legs folded beneath him.
Oh, boy. Alec recognized the posture and knew Palmer had no intention of moving any time soon. Within minutes, the reindeer would probably be snoring loudly enough to rival the whir of the surrounding plane engines.
“That’s good news,” Alec said and fell in step beside her.
“No, it’s not. It’s not good news at all.” She released a sigh, and a cloud of her breath danced in the air. “The FAA doesn’t take kindly to interruptions in air traffic. I could be looking at a big fine.”
Alec had a feeling he could kiss his thousand dollars goodbye, which made his presence out here all the more nonsensical. “I see.”
“Wait a minute.” Zoey came to a halt about twenty feet away from Palmer’s resting spot. Her lips quirked into a smile.
Alec’s gaze was drawn at once to her mouth. She’s even prettier when she smiles.
“That’s not my reindeer.” She clapped her hands like a kid on Christmas morning in one of those sappy made-for-TV movies Alec always tried to avoid. “I can’t believe it. That’s not my reindeer! Problem solved.”
Was she delusional? “What makes you think he’s not yours?”
“Look.” She waved a hand at Palmer. And it was most definitely Palmer. Alec would have recognized that obstinate animal anywhere. He had a white ring around one of his eyes, unlike any of the other reindeer in the herd.
“I’m looking...” He crossed his arms. “...at Palmer. Who belongs to you, I might add.”
“It can’t be Palmer. Isn’t Palmer a boy reindeer?”
Alec had a feeling he knew where this was going. She’d expected a male reindeer to have a big rack of antlers. Most people did. Then again, most people were wrong, as was his new boss.
He bit back a smile. “Yes, Palmer is a male.”
“Well, clearly this is a girl reindeer. See? No antlers.” She did the clapping thing again. “Not my reindeer. Not my problem.”
He laughed. “I hate to break it to you, but male reindeer shed their antlers after rutting season. During this time of year, female reindeer are the only ones with antlers, Miss Smarty Pants.”
“Miss Smarty Pants?” She narrowed her gaze. The grit Alec saw there almost made him feel sorry for Palmer. “You think this is funny?”
“A little.” His shoulders shook, but he had the good sense not to laugh out loud again.
“This is not a joke. I should...should...” She appeared to struggle for words. For once. “Oh, I don’t know...fire you or something.”
“Fire me?” Now he did laugh. Loud. And hard. “Go right ahead, sweetheart. I’m sure the fact that you can’t tell the boy reindeer from the girls won’t be a problem at all. Especially during rut.”
She gave her hair a defiant toss over her shoulder. Alec was certain it was purely for dramatic effect since the arctic wind was swirling around them with increasing force. Palmer was already half buried in snow. “I could figure it out.”
“I’m sure you could,” he said with an ironic grin. “Things seem to be going so well for you on your first day of reindeer-farm ownership. I have no doubt it will all be smooth sailing from here. Why would you need me?”
She said nothing.
Alec should have stopped talking then and there. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t, except that Zoey had a way of making him forget to think. “In case you haven’t noticed, no one else is out here helping you. Like it or not, I’m all you’ve got.”
The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he’d crossed some sort of invisible boundary line.
She blinked at him, wide-eyed. Then Alec watched in horror as her chin wobbled, as if she might cry. That smallest of movements was enough to make him feel as if he’d just told some kid that Santa wasn’t real.
He wished he could take the words back.
No. That was a lie. What he really wanted was to touch her. He had no idea where it came from, but he was overcome with the sudden desire to reach out and brush her cheek with the back of his hand.
What was happening to him? The altitude must be getting to him. Or the cold. He’d heard about people who’d suffered from hallucinations on the verge of freezing to death.
He’d been colder in his life. And he obviously wasn’t close to freezing to death. So where were these thoughts coming from? Zoey was watching him now, which unnerved him even more. At least her chin had quit wobbling.
Thank You, God.
He frowned. He hadn’t thought about God in a long time. Not since his Sunday-school days, which had been years ago. Maybe he really was losing it.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his parka and strode past Zoey, toward Palmer.
“Come on. Let’s do this,” he muttered.
When he heard Zoey fall into step behind him in the snow, he wasn’t altogether sure whether to feel troubled or relieved.
* * *
Like it or not, I’m all you’ve got.
Zoey didn’t know why Alec’s words affected her quite the way they did. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have anyone to lean on. There were plenty of people in Aurora who cared about her. And she could always count on the church. She knew that for a fact. Aurora Community Church had been there when she needed support most. Zoey herself now headed up their outreach program, so she knew firsthand the importance of the church’s mission to reach out to the community.
But her various friends and the church weren’t exactly at the forefront of her mind as she stared down the reindeer that seemed perfectly content to nap in the middle of the airport runway. A reindeer that apparently did belong to her, after all.
What was she doing? She’d thought she could power through this situation and solve the problem on her own. She’d even insisted that Clementine and Anya stay and finish their pedicures. She was accustomed to taking care of herself. She’d been doing it nearly half her life.
Clearly this time she was in over her head. But having Alec Wynn laugh at her was more than she could take. She’d reached the tipping point.
I should fire him, she thought as she tramped through the snow behind him. I really should. Was being mean grounds for termination? If not, it should be.
But the closer they got to Palmer, the less Zoey fantasized about ridding herself of Alec. The reindeer looked a lot bigger now that they were bearing down on him. Huge. And wooly. Zoey had seen reindeer up close and personal at Aurora’s Reindeer Run every spring. But those reindeer looked smaller and sleeker, somehow. Maybe they were girls. Or just wimpy reindeer. Who knew?
Had she really thought she could get this massive, hairy thing to budge all on her own? Maybe she would fire Alec after they moved Palmer out of the way.
“Scared?” Alec asked, as they stood a mere five feet away from the animal.
A little. “No,” she said, doing her best to avoid his penetrating blue gaze.
He lifted a dubious brow. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Reindeer are more afraid of you than you are of them. If this was any other member of your herd, you could have come out here, waved your arms and yelled shoo and the problem would have been solved.”
She wondered if it was the truth or if he was just tryin
g to be nice. Then she remembered who was doing the talking. “So my strategy wasn’t too far off the mark, then?”
“No, it wasn’t.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a half grin.
Zoey half relaxed. “Why won’t that technique work on Palmer?”
“Because he’s stubborn as a mule.” His grin deepened, revealing a hint of a dimple on the right side of his face. “Just like someone else I’ve recently met.”
“I’m not stubborn. I’m self-sufficient.”
He pinned her with a sardonic look. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
Zoey’s face grew warm, despite the flurry of snowflakes landing against her skin. She wished he’d quit calling her sweetheart...not that it sounded in any way complimentary. “So, what do we do now?”
“I have a secret weapon.” He pulled a carrot from the pocket of his parka.
Zoey laughed. “Do you always run around with vegetables in your pockets?”
“On my one and only afternoon off?” He tossed the carrot in the air and caught it. “No, not usually. I stopped by the hotel kitchen just now. It was a necessary diversion.”
“I wondered how you’d ended up out here.” Guilt pricked her consciousness. He wasn’t even on the clock. He’d probably been sitting inside drinking coffee or something when he’d heard about Palmer.
And here he was, with a pocketful of carrots.
Like it or not, I’m all you’ve got.
Something told her Alec Wynn might not be quite as dangerous as he looked.
“Hey there, bud,” he called to Palmer. “What are you doing all the way out here?”
It was probably the sweetest tone she’d ever heard come out of his mouth. His voice could melt an ice floe.
Dangerous. Without a doubt.
Palmer rose to his feet—hooves?—with a grunt. He gave a shake like a dog after a bath, and snow flew anywhere and everywhere. He took a step closer to Alec and craned his neck toward the carrot.
Alec snapped the carrot in two and presented half of it to Palmer with an open palm. The reindeer appeared to inhale it.
While Palmer was crunching away, Alec offered the other half to Zoey. “Do you want to give it a try?”
“Yes! Please.”
“Hold it in the palm of your hand and show it to him. Remember to keep your palm flat and your fingers together.” He winked, and for some reason that word—sweetheart—floated around in Zoey’s head. “Carrots look a lot like fingers.”
She gulped as she stripped off one of her gloves. “Oh.”
She might as well get used to it. Her reindeer weren’t going anywhere, unless running wild through town counted. She was stuck with them.
You could still sell them, you know.
She pushed the thought away. While she was hand-feeding him, it seemed cruel to even contemplate the notion of Palmer turning up on a menu somewhere.
The carrot rested on her open but somewhat shaky palm. Alec wrapped his fingers around her wrist and guided her hand to Palmer’s head. The reindeer pressed his muzzle against her palm. It felt like velvet against her bare skin.
She laughed. “It tickles.”
“Yeah, I guess it does.” Alec met her gaze for a split second then looked away and released her wrist.
Zoey cleared her throat and shoved her hand back in her glove. “Now what?”
“Now we take the escape artist for a walk.” He produced another carrot from his pocket and showed it to Palmer. “Come on, bud. There’s more where the other one came from, but you’ve got to get out of the way first.”
And just like that, Alec led Palmer off the runway and out of harm’s way.
He made it look so simple.
A cheer rose from the crowd of pilots, airport personnel and other onlookers who’d gathered around the frozen lake to witness the spectacle. Zoey had been so caught up in the drama, she hadn’t even noticed that half of Aurora had turned out to watch.
“Tell me that’s not a news crew,” she muttered under her breath.
“It’s not a news crew.” Alec chuckled. “Except that it is.”
She was mortified. How was she supposed to gain any credibility as a brand-new charter pilot when one of her reindeer had shut down the entire airport?
You won’t be a charter pilot if you can’t make the down payment on that plane...
Five days. More like four, now that the sun was setting. A full moon had already risen high in the pink Alaskan sky. The horizon was bathed in a soft lavender glow that made the mountains resemble icing on a cake. How lovely it would have looked from the cockpit of a plane.
Zoey’s eyes grew misty. What was she going to do? Palmer was under control for the time being, but it was a hollow victory. She still owed Alec a thousand dollars, and she still had thirty other reindeer to worry about. How was she ever going to afford all that, plus her airplane?
“You okay?”
Zoey glanced up at Alec, still leading Palmer around with a very literal dangling carrot. “A little overwhelmed, that’s all. It’s been a long day.”
“Keep your chin up. Everyone will forget about this in a day or two.” He kept his gaze glued to Palmer.
Zoey wasn’t sure if he was worried about the reindeer bolting, or if he felt as uncomfortable delivering a pep talk as she did to be on the receiving end of it. “Just so we’re clear, you’re officially un-fired.”
He let out a laugh. “You never fired me.”
Hadn’t she? She’d certainly meant to. “Yes, I did.”
“No, you didn’t.” He glowered at her. “I can take this from here. Don’t you have a pedicure to get back to or something?”
How on earth did he know about the pedicure? “I appreciate the concern, but my toes are fine.”
He gave her another look filled with blue-eyed ire. “Are you walking back with us, or will you be arriving via your private plane?”
Just how had he spent his afternoon off? Investigating her? “It’s not like you think. I’m not a spoiled heiress.”
He shrugged. “So you keep saying.” Zoey braced herself for another sarcastic sweetheart. It never came. She was almost disappointed.
She counted to ten before she did something stupid, like blurting out that he was fired again. Because clearly she needed him, as much as it pained her to admit it. By the time she got to five, they were engulfed in a throng of people. Zoey found herself with two television cameras and half a dozen microphones in her face. Everyone wanted a sound bite, something clever and quirky for the evening news. Because this was Alaska, where things like renegade reindeer made the front page—just one of the myriad reasons why she loved Aurora. She blinked against an assault of flashbulbs.
When her vision cleared, Alec and Palmer were nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Four
Zoey would be lying if she said she’d never fantasized about one day seeing herself on television. As nonsensical as it sounded, those fantasies usually involved winning an Oscar or a Grammy, and she was wearing an evening gown with sequins and maybe even a train. Never in her wildest dreams did she think the lead story on the local news would feature her escorting a reindeer off an airport runway. It seemed almost as ridiculous a notion as winning Best Supporting Actress or Best Female Vocalist.
Yet, there she was. In living color.
“You look lovely, dear.” Kirimi, Anya’s mother, waved the needle and thread in her hand toward the tiny television on the worktable at the church thrift store.
After the fiasco at the airport, Zoey had sought refuge here. She’d hoped going through boxes of newly donated clothes would take her mind off Palmer, the FAA and her rapidly accumulating debt.
And Alec Wynn.
“You sure do. Look how rosy your cheeks are.” Anya nodded. Ev
en standing side by side, it was difficult to see the resemblance between mother and daughter.
“You’re glowing, Zoey. Glowing.” Kirimi slid her needle into a threadbare mitten. The things she could do with a needle and thread were nothing short of amazing.
Zoey’s skills, on the other hand, were limited to organizing inventory and helping customers. She sometimes wondered if her mother would have taught her to sew, had she lived long enough. Then again, Anya wasn’t exactly a whiz with a sewing machine. Up until the past year or so, she and her mom had had a strained relationship. That was difficult to believe seeing them now, volunteering side by side.
“As much as I appreciate your kind words, you two are nuts.” Zoey couldn’t even look at her onscreen self. “The entire experience was mortifying.”
Except...
There’d been a moment out there on the ice—when Alec had delivered his uncomfortable pep talk—that had been sort of sweet.
Zoey swallowed. He said one nice thing. And he couldn’t even look at you when he said it. Get a grip on yourself.
“We’re just trying to put a positive spin on things.” Anya shrugged. “Besides, you really do look good on TV.”
Zoey forced herself to look at the television. There she was—standing beside Alec, who was dangling a carrot in front of Palmer. The reindeer looked so picturesque, his back lightly dusted with snow. Like something out of a Christmas movie.
Alec didn’t look so bad himself.
Zoey absently folded something. A shirt? A sweater? Who knew? Alec looked absurdly handsome on-screen. Even more so than he did in person. No wonder the televised version of herself was gazing up at him as if he was the best thing to happen to Alaska since the Gold Rush. It was humiliating.
“I’m not glowing,” she protested. “That’s windburn.”
“Sure it is,” Kirimi said with an uncharacteristically saucy grin. “My Anya was right. Your reindeer man is rather dashing.”