Sleigh Bell Sweethearts

by Teri Wilson

  “For the record, I was never afraid of this thing.” She gave her chin a defiant lift. “And I’m still not.”

  “Sure you’re not.” He winked again, and Zoey could practically see the sarcastic, unspoken sweetheart dancing in his eyes.

  “You’ve managed to convince me.” She took the helmet from him and slipped it into place. “Or coerce me. One of the two.”

  “You might want to try hanging on this time. At least until we get out on the open road. Just a suggestion,” he said as he gave the chin strap of her helmet a gentle tug. His gaze fixed with hers, and he seemed almost reluctant to let go. But that didn’t make sense. She was probably imagining things. Hadn’t this ride been his idea in the first place?

  She gulped. “Will do.”

  Then she climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She already felt impossibly small next to him, practically swimming in his heavy leather jacket and helmet. His sizable muscles beneath her hands made her feel even tinier. And ridiculously feminine. Warmth flooded her cheeks.

  Alec cast a glance over his shoulder, and Zoey was thankful for the darkness. “Ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Promise me you’ll do your best to think of it as an airplane. Before long, you’ll think you’re flying.”

  Her heart turned a little somersault. Whether he intended it or not, this was romantic. And sweet. Really sweet.

  The bike thundered to life beneath them, and she tightened her grip on Alec’s waist. Then they were rolling slowly down the driveway. The hard-packed snow made the ride a little bumpy, and Zoey tried to think of it as turbulence. But when Alec turned onto the road, which had been freshly swept by the snowplow, everything smoothed out.

  He accelerated, and Zoey closed her eyes. Adrenaline surged through her veins. A familiar feeling of joy swelled up inside her—the same thrilling sensation that always seized her on the moment of takeoff.

  He’s right. We’re flying.

  She lifted her face to the night sky. The cold wind nipped at her nose, and a gentle flurry of snowflakes swirled overhead. The engine roared even louder and they went faster. And faster. Until the stars glittering above looked as though they were falling and spinning all around them.

  She wasn’t sure how long they rode. And she didn’t care. When they reached the outskirts of Aurora, Alec slowed the bike to a stop at a scenic overlook. The entire town spread before them, even the reindeer farm, barely visible at the foot of the mountains.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Zoey whispered.

  Alec turned and let his gaze travel over her face. Slowly. Deliberately. “Yes, beautiful.”

  Her throat grew dry. “Thank you for this...for taking me flying. It’s just what I needed. How did you know?”

  He shrugged one of his well-formed shoulders. “I suppose I’ve come to know a few things about you.”

  Do you know how badly I want you to kiss me right now?

  Her heart pounded so hard she thought she might fall off the bike. A surge of anticipation uncoiled in her belly. Her head spun in a dizzying imitation of what it was like to defy gravity. She felt as though she could float up so high, she could scrape the bottom of the clouds with the tips of her fingers. “Is that so?”

  She leaned a fraction closer. Alec drew in a sharp, shaky inhale.

  Oh, he knows.

  She laid a hand on his firm chest, and in the brief moment before he gathered her hand in his and removed it, she felt the telltale thump of his heart that told her he wanted that kiss just as badly as she did.

  “Zoey.” Her name was a ragged whisper on his lips. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  He reached for her other hand. With both her hands nestled in his, he stared down at their interlocked fingers for a long, silent moment. Then he looked back up at her, and something in his blue eyes caused her breath to catch in her throat. Right then she knew that whatever he needed to tell her wasn’t good news.

  She cleared her throat. Whatever it was, she could take it. Hadn’t she been on the receiving end of bad news enough to become an expert at hearing it?

  “What is it?” she asked flatly.

  “I’ve found another job. At Denali National Park. I start the first of the year.” He said it quickly.

  So quickly that, for a moment, she thought she’d misheard him. How could he have found another job so soon? “Already?”

  He nodded. “Yes. It’s a great position, actually. The money is good, and there are even reindeer at the park.”

  “Well, that’s...” Devastating. She pasted on a smile. “Wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

  “I’m sorry if this leaves you in a bind. If I’d known you were keeping the reindeer...”

  What? You would have stayed?

  Not likely.

  Alec wasn’t the type. Even with her limited experience with men, Zoey could tell that much about him. The fact that all of his worldly possessions fit in a single duffel bag had to mean something, didn’t it?

  “Don’t be silly. I can handle things on my own just fine.” Her words came out more harshly than she’d intended.

  Alec narrowed his eyes at her. “Of course you can. What was I thinking?”

  “That I’d be upset? That I needed you?” She let out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. “Well, I don’t.”

  “Clearly.” He turned back around and cranked the motorcycle back to life.

  The ride home was faster, like a jet riding on a tail wind. Zoey half expected the wheels to float clear off the pavement. In a moment of bravery—or insanity—she lifted her arms from Alec’s waist and held them up in the air like the wings of a plane.

  She was flying again.

  The arctic wind bit at her face, stung her eyes and her lips. She could have ducked back behind Alec and let him shield her. But she was finished with that. It was time to face things head-on the only way she’d ever known—by herself. So she kept her arms out wide, leaned into the wind and let it dry the salty tears from her cheeks.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Zoey pushed through the circular door of the Northern Lights Inn the next morning, Anya and Clementine were already parked on barstools waiting for her at the coffee bar.

  “Look at you two. I thought I was early.” She shrugged out of her parka and glanced at her watch. She’d arrived for their coffee date with five minutes to spare. How was it possible she was the last one there?

  Anya shifted seats, leaving the one between her and Clementine free for Zoey. “Your voice mail said you had a big announcement.”

  “The suspense is killing us. We’ve been here waiting for almost half an hour already.” Clementine thrust a steaming mug of coffee toward her.

  Zoey eyed it with suspicion. “How much sugar did you put in there?”

  Clementine’s sweet tooth was legendary. “Relax. Anya ordered for you and forbade me to touch it.”

  “You’re welcome,” Anya mouthed silently behind Clementine’s back.

  Zoey hid her grin behind the mug. “Thank you. Both of you.”

  She took a sip while Anya and Clementine watched her with mounting impatience.

  “Now you’re torturing us on purpose, aren’t you?” Clementine crossed her arms.

  “Come on. Spill the beans. What’s your big news?” Anya asked.

  “I’ll give you a hint,” Zoey said slyly and reached into her purse. She removed one of the Save the Reindeer donation jars and placed it on the counter.

  “I don’t get it.” Clementine frowned.

  Anya’s brow furrowed. “Wait a minute. Just the other day you told me you weren’t keeping any of the money you’d collected from those jars. So why are you putting them back out?”

  “That was before
,” Zoey said.

  “Before what?” Clementine asked.

  Zoey’s head spun as she thought back on all the events of the past two days—the thrill of seeing Palmer leap up and over the fence, the lump in her throat that refused to go away during her meeting at the lawyer’s office and the way she couldn’t make herself touch the pen when it was time to sign the sales agreement. But her most vivid memories were those involving Alec. If she closed her eyes she could still feel the wind on her face from their flight on his motorcycle. She could feel the warmth of his chest as she wrapped her arms around him for balance. And she could feel her heart skidding to a stop when he told her he’d found another job.

  Before a lot of things... “Before I decided not to sell the reindeer after all.”

  “What?” Clementine plunked her coffee, with its towering mountain of whipped cream, on the counter.

  “You’re keeping them?” Anya asked. “All of them?”

  “Every last one. I saw something the other night that changed everything—Palmer can fly.”

  Clementine frowned. “Flying reindeer? For real?”

  “Not exactly. He jumped. Very high, though. He cleared the fence in the blink of an eye.” She couldn’t help but smile every time she thought about it. “I think...no, I know...that’s why Gus had them. And that’s why he left them to me.”

  “Because you love to fly.” A slow smile came to Anya’s lips. “Wow.”

  “I couldn’t go through with the sale. I just couldn’t.”

  “But what about your airplane?” Clementine frowned as her gaze snagged on a ski plane landing on the frozen lake outside.

  Zoey had situated herself so she faced away from the big picture window. Obviously, she couldn’t avoid the sight of planes landing and taking off forever. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to look. Not yet. “I had to cancel the deal.”

  “You mean postpone, right?” Anya said.

  “No. The seller wouldn’t give me any more time. The plane should be back on the market today, but I’m not giving up. I have a plan.” She prayed it would work. It had to.

  Anya glanced at the reindeer mason jar. “More donation stations?”

  “No. I don’t want to rely on charity. I thought we could kick the Save the Reindeer operation into high gear with a Christmas festival of sorts. What’s more Christmasy than reindeer, right? We could hold it right there on the reindeer farm on Christmas Eve. We could offer photos with the reindeer for five dollars each, hot chocolate for a dollar, maybe s’mores for two dollars? If I have a good turnout, I might be able to collect enough money to maintain the reindeer until next year and possibly even get my plane. So long as no one else buys it before then. What do you think?” She found herself holding her breath as she waited for their reaction. It had sounded like a brilliant plan when she’d concocted it in the middle of the night, but now she wasn’t so sure.

  Clementine smiled. “It sounds like a great idea. Of course we’ll help you. I can ask Ben to bring some of the dogs, and we can offer dog sledding. That should bring in a few dollars.”

  “I love it.” Anya clapped her hands. “You can call it the Reindeer Roundup.”

  “Good. We have a plan.” Zoey breathed a tentative sigh of relief. She would have her hands full throwing a Christmas festival together in less than two weeks, but what else did she have to do with her time? It wasn’t as if she had a job at the moment.

  And Alec would help, wouldn’t he?

  “So this is your big announcement?” Clementine almost looked disappointed.

  “Yes.”

  Anya and Clementine exchanged a loaded glance.

  No one said a word. Silence hovered over the coffee bar until Zoey could clearly make out the sound of another plane taking off on the runway behind the hotel.

  She cleared her throat. Loudly. “I thought you guys might be more excited.”

  Anya reached out and squeezed her hand. “We’re sorry. This just wasn’t the news we were expecting.”

  “We thought your announcement would have something to do with Alec,” Clementine said.

  Zoey’s throat tightened. “Why in the world would you think that?”

  Clementine shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess you two seem to have a special spark.”

  Zoey fought against the memory of resting her hand on Alec’s chest and feeling the intense pounding of his heart beneath her fingertips. “What spark? There is no spark.”

  “If you say so,” Anya muttered.

  “I’m being serious. There’s no spark. None whatsoever.” She slammed her coffee mug on the counter with a tad too much force. Coffee sloshed up and over the edge.

  Clementine struggled to stifle a grin as she handed Zoey a napkin.

  She took it and dabbed at the mess she’d made. Why did it seem as though all she did lately was make a mess of things? “It doesn’t matter anyway because Alec doesn’t work for me anymore. Rather, he won’t once Christmas is over.”

  “What?” Clementine’s jaw dropped.

  “Are you serious?” Anya asked.

  “Yes. He has a new job in Denali at the start of the New Year. He gave me his notice last night.” Under a sky filled with so much starlight it made me dizzy.

  “I don’t understand. What are you going to do? You can’t run the farm without him,” Clementine said.

  Zoey bristled. “Sure I can.”

  Anya shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong. I know you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You’ve proven that time and again. But think about this for a minute. You just gave up your airplane. You’re planning to hold a giant fundraiser in less than two weeks. You have no job, a dwindling supply of money and a pasture full of reindeer that you know nothing about.”

  “Don’t forget the dog,” Clementine added.

  “How could I forget?” Anya said. “You also have a furry dog that looks like a bear.”

  Zoey shrugged. “I know it sounds like a lot. But I can handle it.” She totally could. Didn’t Alec say he’d learned most of what he knew about the reindeer from Google? She knew how to use a computer, too. Problem solved.

  But would Google know the perfect way to cheer her up after a bad day? Would Google take her flying? Would Google give her a dog?

  She wrapped her hands around her steaming cup of coffee and tried not to compare it to the comforting warmth of Alec’s huge leather jacket. “I’ll be perfectly fine without Alec Wynn. You’ll see.”

  Zoey stared into her mug so her friends wouldn’t see the sadness that was surely visible in her eyes. Because, as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, somewhere deep inside she wondered if she was in for a rather blue Christmas.

  And an even bluer New Year.

  * * *

  Alec swung an ax over his head and brought it down on the block of wood in front of him with a powerful blow. He was rewarded with a resounding crack and the sight of two equal-sized logs rolling off the chopping block. He picked them up one at a time and threw them on the growing pile of firewood stacked next to Zoey’s cabin.

  Dasher ran a quick circle around the woodpile, nipping at the logs along the edge. Alec was pretty sure she was trying to herd them.

  “Relax. They’re not going anywhere,” he said, wiping the perspiration from his brow.

  He was sweating even though icicles nearly as long as his arms were hanging from the edge of the roof and a fresh layer of snow covered the ground. That had been the idea—get some exercise, work up a sweat and hopefully burn off some of the frustration eating away at his gut. He was definitely not out in this crazy weather chopping wood just to keep Zoey toasty warm in his absence.

  She didn’t need him to keep her warm. She didn’t need him for anything. She’d made that perfectly clear.

  He hau
led another piece of wood onto the chopping block and split it in half with a single swing of the ax. He’d like to see Zoey try to do that. He was willing to bet she couldn’t even pick up the ax.

  His jaw clenched, and he tossed the logs onto the pile.

  Why was he doing this? Certainly there were other ways to get some exercise, to let off steam. Zoey hadn’t said a word to him since their motorcycle ride the night before. Why should he care if she had two sticks to rub together after he’d gone?

  His head throbbed. On some level, he wondered if he was on the verge of losing it. Zoey’s reaction to his news should have come as a relief. She hadn’t gotten all emotional or asked him to reconsider the offer in Denali, like he’d thought she might. Not that he would have stayed if she’d asked. Zoey needed help. That much was certain. But he wasn’t the man to take on that responsibility. If he stuck around, he’d only end up hurting her in the long run. He didn’t know exactly how. Or when. But it was sure to happen. It was written in his DNA.

  She would be better off without him.

  He just hadn’t realized she’d figured that out already.

  “Stubborn female,” he muttered and gave another block of wood a nice, solid whack with the ax.

  Because that was what it really boiled down to—her insistence on doing everything on her own. It really wasn’t about him. On a purely intellectual level, he knew as much. She didn’t think she needed him because she didn’t believe she needed anyone. Ever.

  He wondered how much the deaths of her parents had to do with that belief. He also wondered where her God fit into the scheme of things. She was neck-deep in her church group, and he’d spotted her on more than one occasion sitting in the rocking chair on the porch in the early-morning hours wrapped in a pile of blankets with a Bible in her lap. Did she let God in? Or did she keep Him at arm’s length like everyone else?

  Alec shook his head. Who was he to question anyone’s relationship with God? It wasn’t as if he had things all figured out in that department. He’d only recently begun to pray again.

  He took another whack at the wood. His shoulders were beginning to ache, and his arms felt loose, as if they could slip right out of their sockets. But his head was beginning to feel a bit clearer. Maybe by the time he plowed his way through an Alaskan winter’s worth of firewood, he’d find something that vaguely resembled peace of mind.