Sleigh Bell Sweethearts

by Teri Wilson

  “No. Not yet, anyway.” She flushed. She tended to do that a lot, he’d noticed. “Do you always get here so early in the morning?”

  “I live on the property. Room and board is included with my salary.” He jerked his head in the direction of the small guest cabin adjacent to the barn.

  It was pretty bare—a twin bed, a bathroom and a glorified hot plate for a kitchen. But Alec didn’t mind. He’d lived in far worse conditions. When he’d first moved to the Olympic Forest, he’d lived outdoors in a tent. That was years ago, but the experience had given him an appreciation for life’s little luxuries. Things like central heating, indoor plumbing and a soft place to rest.

  No doubt Zoey wouldn’t understand such worries. Not many people did.

  “I see.” Her gaze strayed toward the guest cabin, his motorcycle parked out front and then back to him.

  He nodded at the pyramid of boxes in his arms. “Where should I take these, boss?”

  Upon his use of the word boss, her flush intensified. “Into the house, of course.”

  “The house?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, and her ponytail bobbed gleefully up and down. “Today’s moving day.”

  So much for his peaceful, solitary mornings.

  Alec wasn’t sure why he’d never entertained the possibility that Zoey would move into Gus Henderson’s home. It was hers now. But he’d never once imagined her actually living there, particularly so soon. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  “I was actually planning on moving anyway. While I was working at the coffee bar, the Northern Lights Inn gave me a room as part of my pay. This past Friday was my last day.”

  He lifted an irritated brow. “So you don’t have a job?”

  The way Alec saw it, her unemployed status meant one of two things—either she was rich or he’d never see the money she owed him. She’d already denied being wealthy on multiple occasions, so he assumed it was the latter.

  Goodbye, one thousand dollars. He may as well have fed twenties and fifties straight to the reindeer.

  “Not exactly.” She bit her bottom lip.

  Alec’s attention would have probably snagged on that lip had he not been so busy thinking about how aggravated he was with her. “It’s a simple question—do you have a job? Yes or no?”

  “No.” She squared her slender shoulders. “Not at the moment.”

  Why didn’t this information come as a surprise? Alec shifted the boxes in his arms and marched toward the house.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Zoey said, trailing behind him.

  “I doubt that,” he ground out.

  “You’re worried about the money I owe you.”

  Not so much worried as mourning the loss of it. “Convince me I shouldn’t be concerned. Please.”

  They’d reached the side porch of the little log cabin where Gus Henderson had once lived. Zoey dug a key out of the pocket of her parka and slipped it in the lock on the door. Once inside, Alec dropped the boxes on the round, rustic pine kitchen table.

  Then he crossed his arms and waited.

  * * *

  “Look, I have your money. All of it. I can write you a check right now if you like.” Zoey prayed that wasn’t what he expected. At least not until she’d had a chance to convince him otherwise. “But I have a proposal for you.”

  “A proposal?” His eyes narrowed.

  A proposal.

  Zoey’s stomach fluttered. Couldn’t she have chosen another word? One less matrimonial? “I’m talking about a payment arrangement.”

  He sank into one of the kitchen chairs, stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his feet at the ankles. “I’ll take my check now, thanks.”

  The conversation wasn’t going quite as Zoey had planned. After a night of tossing, turning and more prayers than she’d uttered in as long as she could remember, she’d gotten up early and rehearsed exactly what she would say to Alec. And now she’d forgotten every word. It was too hard to concentrate with him here, filling up the room with his overwhelming intensity.

  She closed her eyes. Perhaps she could manage to string a few coherent words together when she wasn’t looking at him. “I don’t want the reindeer to end up as hot dogs.”

  “Zoey?” His voice sounded different from how it had before. Softer. Softer, but still very Alec. “Open your eyes.”

  Her lashes fluttered open.

  He stood and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”

  She obeyed.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” There it was again—that barely perceptible hint of softness in his tone.

  It was all the invitation she needed. She told him all about the offer for the reindeer, the fine from the FAA and, finally, about her plane. “It’s not anything fancy, just a prop plane. But it would be my prop plane. I’ve dreamed of becoming a charter pilot since I was sixteen years old.”

  She stopped. She couldn’t tell him about her parents. Not yet. She told herself it was because they’d only known each other for two rather turbulent days. But deep down, she wondered if the real reason she couldn’t was because she feared what would happen once she did. He might look at her like everyone else did, as if she was a charity case or a tragic little sister who needed taking care of. She didn’t want Alec Wynn’s sympathy. And she most definitely didn’t want to be his kid sister.

  She gulped. Of course she wasn’t his sister. She was his boss. And nothing more.

  “You’re a pilot?” The corner of his mouth lifted, and his face bore the oddest expression—a curious mixture of bewilderment and amusement.

  “Does that surprise you?”

  He gave her a rare smile. “No, frankly. It doesn’t surprise me a bit.”

  Zoey liked that answer. She liked it a lot. So much so that it scared her a little.

  She cleared her throat. “Getting back to business...”

  “Business.” The set of his jaw hardened, and the look in his eyes grew distant. “Of course.”

  Whatever fleeting moment of tenderness they’d shared had passed, exactly as she’d planned. Zoey should have been pleased. Instead, she felt inexplicably hollow. “Can I have a little more time to reimburse your out-of-pocket expenses?”

  He waited an excruciating beat before asking, “How long?”

  She smiled—a weak attempt at softening the blow. “I was thinking until Christmas.”

  It seemed like a reasonable deadline. Gus had paid Alec’s salary through the end of the year. After then, it would be Zoey’s responsibility. She needed to eradicate her debt to him before she owed him even more money.

  He glanced out a big bay window overlooking the pasture. The reindeer were clustered together in a large group, lying down in the snow. Zoey couldn’t help but notice that some of the tension left Alec’s features as he watched them. “I suppose I could make that work, seeing as I’m the only thing standing between the herd and a side of relish.”

  He wasn’t the only thing...there was still the FAA fine to worry about. But getting Alec to agree to this arrangement was a start. Maybe now she wouldn’t feel so nervous around him all the time. “We have a deal, then? Christmas?”

  He nodded. “Christmas.”

  She beamed at him in return.

  For the first time in forty-eight hours, Zoey could breathe without her chest aching. Christmas was three weeks away. Surely she could turn things around by then.

  She had to.

  Chapter Five

  The entire population of Aurora turned out to help Zoey move into Gus Henderson’s house. Or so it seemed to Alec. By midday there were more people pitching in than there were actual possessions to be moved. It was mind-boggling.

  And disruptive.

  Alec couldn’t turn around withou
t being introduced to someone. By the third or fourth handshake, he realized that most of the helpers were part of some sort of church group. And apparently Zoey was their fearless leader. Or at least some sort of high-ranking official.

  Like a princess, for instance.

  It wasn’t exactly a bombshell revelation. Zoey appeared to think she could do anything, much of it all on her own. Why would something as daunting as saving the world be any different?

  Alec rolled his eyes as he heaved a small bale of hay on top of the stack in the corner of the barn. Let her save the world. So long as she wasn’t trying to save him, they’d get along fine. She seemed to have enough on her plate, however, so he assumed he wasn’t anywhere on her radar.

  A vague sense of disappointment nagged at him as he tossed another bale of hay on the pile, which tipped his disappointment into irritation. Why should he care what Zoey thought of him, or if she thought of him at all? He didn’t spend his time thinking about her.

  Except for now, you idiot...

  And a good percentage of your waking hours.

  A voice cut through the dim light of the barn. “Can I give you a hand?”

  Alec turned and found Brock Parker standing in a sliver of pale pink sunlight drifting through the back door of the barn. He wore the same parka that had been slung over his chair at the coffee bar, but this time Alec’s attention was drawn to a big white cross that was stitched across Brock’s chest. As Alec took in the cross, along with the words Search & Rescue spelled out beneath it, recognition dawned.

  Brock Parker had been at Olympic Forest. Not long. Just a day or two. He’d headed up a team that looked for a missing boy who’d wandered off from his family’s campsite. In the end, the boy had been located safe and sound, with only a mild case of hypothermia.

  But the day remained seared in Alec’s memory—not only because of the notable rescue, but also because it had overlapped with the arrival of his father. He’d come out of the forest late one evening and found his father waiting for him at the park-ranger headquarters. He’d wanted money, of course. Some things never changed.

  During the long ride from Washington to Alaska, Alec had revisited that day time and again, wondering if he’d done the right thing. In his haste to just somehow get his dad out of the park and away from the curious stares of his coworkers, he’d pressed a few dollar bills into his father’s shaky, sweaty hand. Please leave, he’d said through clenched teeth. Just go.

  Fat chance.

  Deep down, Alec knew he’d be back. Why not? His efforts had been successful. So Alec had been the one to go. Just like before.

  Brock had been there that day. What were the odds? Brock hadn’t known him then, so it was doubtful he’d noticed anything amiss. But the possibility lingered, making Alec even less comfortable than he’d already been. Was it too much to ask to find a place where no one knew who he was or where he’d come from? A place where he could be whomever he wanted to be? Apparently so.

  His gaze dropped to the dog at Brock’s feet—the same one that had been curled beneath his chair at the coffee bar. He wondered if it was the same dog that had found the missing boy in the forest. Possibly. It was copper-colored with a white chest, as the other one had been. When Alec met the dog’s gaze, its tail beat happily against Brock’s legs.

  “Thanks, but things are pretty much under control.” Alec cast a halfhearted glance at the hay. There really wasn’t much to be done here. In fact, hay was in short supply. They’d need more by the week’s end.

  Another expense for Zoey.

  He swallowed. Not your problem.

  Brock lingered in the doorway but made no move to enter the barn. “Avoiding the crowd?”

  “Something like that.” Something exactly like that.

  How many people did it take to move a few boxes? From what he’d seen, Zoey didn’t have all that many things. He wondered if her friends knew how uncomfortable she felt to be on the receiving end of all that help. Doubtful. But Alec could see it in the way she flitted around like a nervous butterfly, checking on one person after the next.

  A nervous, beautiful butterfly.

  Even now that butterfly was tucked in the kitchen of the log cabin making sandwiches for the whole crew.

  “I can respect the feeling. Aurora’s a small town with a big heart. It can be overwhelming for a newcomer. Trust me. I’ve been there.” Brock gave him a knowing smile. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  Alec should have let him go. He’d come to the barn searching for a little peace and quiet, and he wasn’t sure exactly what Brock remembered of him, if he remembered him at all.

  But Alec’s attention had snagged on the dog.

  He had an idea. It was probably crazy. But no less crazy than chasing a runaway reindeer all over town.

  “Can I ask you something?” he said to Brock’s retreating back.

  Brock stepped back into the barn. The dog mirrored his every movement, its paws moving in perfect sync with Brock’s feet. “Sure.”

  Alec motioned toward the dog with a jerk of his head. “Did you train him yourself?”

  “Watson here?” Brock’s face split into a grin as he looked down at the dog. “For the most part, yes. My wife is also very involved with our training program.”

  “What kind of training program?”

  Brock shrugged. “Search and rescue mostly. We specialize in mountain rescues—avalanches and bringing injured skiers off the slopes.”

  Not exactly what Alec had in mind. He didn’t want to give up on his idea quite yet, though. “Do you ever train dogs for other types of work?”

  Brock took a step closer, as did Watson. “What exactly are we talking about?”

  “Don’t laugh.” Alec studied Watson’s appearance. He looked like a regular dog. But so had the dog that had found the little boy. If a dog could find a missing kid, couldn’t one also keep a reindeer in line? “I was thinking of a sheepdog, only for reindeer.”

  Brock’s grin spread, but he didn’t laugh. Alec considered that a good sign. “A reindeer-herding dog?”

  “Does such a thing exist?” It had to. Dogs herded other animals all the time, not just sheep. Alec had even seen a dog herd a bunch of ducks once on television.

  Brock shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. I could do some research, make some calls. I know a few people with herding dogs.”

  “We’ve got a reindeer that’s a bit of a problem.” Alec glanced over Brock’s shoulder, toward the pasture. Palmer was clustered with the other reindeer—for now—his legs curled beneath him, blinking against the snow.

  “Yeah, Palmer. I’m aware. The whole town is aware.” Now Brock did laugh, not that Alec could blame him.

  “I thought maybe a sheepdog...er, reindeer dog...might be able to keep him in line. Or at least keep him from wandering.” Alec pulled off his gloves and tossed them on the dwindling stack of hay.

  “It’s an idea. A creative one. I’ll give you that.”

  Creativity aside, it was the only idea he had, short of tethering Palmer with a halter and a lead rope. But he had a feeling that wouldn’t last long, either. If a metal fence couldn’t keep the reindeer in check, it didn’t seem as if a rope would cut it. And Alec didn’t like the tethering idea in theory, either. It seemed cruel. Freedom was a concept he held near and dear, even for reindeer.

  Alec raked a hand through his hair. He’d worked up a sweat in the barn, even though it was still so cold he could see his breath in the air. “But do you think it could work?”

  “I haven’t a clue. But it’ll sure be fun to give it a shot.” Brock grinned.

  Fun.

  It was so foreign an idea, Alec had trouble digesting the word.

  Not that there was anything wrong with fun. But he’d been so busy building a new life for himself for so lon
g, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good time.

  Helping Zoey yesterday was pretty fun.

  He frowned. That was neither here nor there.

  He directed his attention to Brock again. “Um, one more thing...”

  Brock shrugged a shoulder. “Name it.”

  He was so relaxed. Friendly. Alec was tempted to bring up the rescue at Olympic and tell him they’d met before.

  He would...

  Later.

  At best, bringing up the past would only lead to questions. Questions such as why Alec had left Washington and why he’d come all the way to Alaska. And those were questions he didn’t feel like answering.

  At worst, Brock already knew the answers to those questions.

  “Could we keep this between us?” Alec asked. “For now at least?”

  “Sure.” Brock’s gaze darted briefly to the house, where Zoey was no doubt making enough sandwiches to feed an army. “Is this a Christmas surprise?”

  Alec grew still. A Christmas surprise? For Zoey? Hardly.

  This wasn’t a gift, Christmas or otherwise. He was merely trying to help. Zoey obviously needed it. Did she really think she could come up with his money by Christmas? Even if she did, what would happen afterward? Was he supposed to work for free? If he had half a brain in his head, he’d start looking for another job instead of trying to find a dog to babysit a reindeer.

  He crossed his arms across his chest. “I just don’t want to get her hopes up. That’s all.”

  “Whatever you say. I understand.” Brock’s bemused expression told Alec he clearly didn’t. “It’ll be our secret.”

  * * *

  “We’ve boxed up Gus’s clothes, and they’re all ready to take back to the thrift store.” Anya sidled up next to Zoey in the kitchen. “Your things are all unpacked and your bed is made.”

  Even though it made little sense, Zoey felt almost guilty for getting rid of Gus’s clothes—as though she was pushing him out of his home. But the thrift store raised money for people out in the bush, who had trouble affording even basic medical care. Gus’s clothes would be put to good use.