by Teri Wilson
“Merry Christmas,” Alec whispered against her lips, and her soul breathed a long-overdue exhale.
“Merry Christmas,” she answered breathlessly.
Then he pulled her closer still and kissed her again. There was an urgency in his kiss this time that she couldn’t deny, which made her feel the coming loss of him deep in the center of her chest.
He pulled back to gaze down at her and run his fingertips along the side of her face.
“Alec, tomorrow...” she murmured.
“Shh. Not now, remember? Not tonight.” He pressed a finger against her lips, still warm from his kisses. He smiled, but it was equal parts joyful and bittersweet. “Good night, sweetheart.”
Then he released her, turned away and walked back inside his cabin. The door closed behind him with a soft but definite click, leaving her standing alone in the romantic glow of the lights from the Christmas tree.
She ran her hand over its branches, covered with a fine layer of powdery snow that sparkled like diamonds in the twinkling white lights. It was Christmas Eve in Alaska, and Alec had finally kissed her.
But what would tomorrow bring?
Good night, sweetheart.
Was it good night...or goodbye?
Chapter Fifteen
“Where’s Alec?” Anya asked as she helped Zoey pass out paper cups of hot apple cider to the sizable crowd of people who were there for the Reindeer Roundup.
For the first time since Zoey had set foot on the farm, there were more people than reindeer on the property. She’d grown so accustomed to the peaceful stillness of her new home that it was almost unsettling to be part of the majority.
“I don’t know exactly, but I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” she said, stopping short of admitting to Anya that she hadn’t actually seen Alec all morning.
It’s not all that strange, she told herself. There have been plenty of days when I haven’t seen him until evening.
And today was her big day. Anya and Clementine had shown up on her doorstep bright and early to help prepare for the festival. Time had flown by as they made last-minute arrangements, such as decorating the fence with swags of evergreen, wrapping red ribbons around the logs on the front porch of the cabin and gathering piles of antlers for the wreath toss.
If not for that kiss the night before, she probably wouldn’t have even noticed that she hadn’t seen him tending to the reindeer at one time or another. They’d been cared for—fed, groomed, even brushed for their big day. But somehow Alec had managed to do all of it without once crossing her path.
If not for that kiss...
Her heart stuttered at the memory of it. It had been some kiss. So why hadn’t she seen Alec since?
“He’s still in charge of the sleigh, right? Because it’s almost time. Brock is already hiding out in the Santa suit so none of the kids see him.” Anya glanced toward the house, “Santa’s dressing room” as they’d jokingly begun to call it.
“Yes. I’m sure he has everything under control. I’m not worried a bit.” And she wasn’t worried—not about the reindeer or the sleigh.
Alec knew how important this day was to her. If everything went well, she might even earn enough money for the remainder of the down payment on her airplane. Her future was at stake.
She inhaled a ragged breath. The future.
The future was here now. All around her, people were snapping photos of the reindeer, sipping hot chocolate and sledding through the snow. This was her life. As much as she hated to think about it, she had the nagging suspicion that Alec was avoiding her just to prepare her for what would come after the Reindeer Roundup was over and he’d moved on. If so, she couldn’t quite decide if he was being kind or cruel.
God, help me get through this. She swallowed. I’ve finally learned that keeping people at arm’s length won’t prevent me from getting hurt. I wouldn’t erase the past few weeks, even if I could, even if it meant I would never miss him. But I’m not quite ready for him to go.
“Hey, you two.” Clementine hustled toward them, both of her hands overflowing with antlers. “I’ve officially disbanded the antler ring toss. It’s a cash cow, but it’s getting a little out of control.”
Zoey furrowed her brow. “How?”
“Some of the little boys decided that the antlers make good weapons. I just broke up a five-way sword fight. I figured no amount of money is worth someone getting their eye poked out.” Clementine glanced down at the antlers in her hands and shook her head.
Zoey blinked. “They were fencing...with reindeer antlers?”
“Yep.”
Anya snickered. “Only in Alaska.”
“I think it might be time for Santa’s sleigh to make its appearance, don’t you?” Clementine asked.
Zoey glanced at her watch. “Yes. Actually, Brock should be warming up his ho, ho, ho right this minute.”
Right on cue, “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” started playing over the loudspeaker. Zoey, Anya and Clementine exchanged eager glances and headed to the fence for a better view.
The ring of jingle bells and the thunder of reindeer hooves preceded the actual arrival of Santa’s sleigh. Before the sleigh even rounded the corner into view, everyone in attendance realized something special was happening. A cheer rose from the crowd as Alec rounded the corner, leading the team of reindeer that were all harnessed up to the sleigh. At least Zoey expected it to be Alec.
It wasn’t. It was Brock, dressed in regular street clothes.
“Wait a minute. I thought Brock was supposed to be Santa,” Clementine whispered, being careful so the children wouldn’t overhear.
“He was. Alec was supposed to lead the reindeer pulling the sleigh.” A tremor of fear passed through Zoey. Where is he?
The crowd started applauding, and toddlers climbed atop their parents’ shoulders for a better view. Everyone pressed toward the fence.
“What’s going on?” Clementine stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck.
“I don’t know. I can’t see a thing. Surely we don’t have a sleigh without a Santa Claus.” But the moment the words left Zoey’s mouth, a loud “ho, ho, ho” pierced the air.
She gasped, and a shiver ran down her spine.
“That’s not Brock’s voice.” Anya frowned.
“No, it’s not. It’s Alec’s,” Zoey said, her throat clogging with emotion.
The voice that had become so familiar to her over the course of the past few weeks rang out, more exaggeratedly cheerful than she’d ever thought possible. “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I’ve got to see this to believe it. Excuse me.”
She wiggled her way through a mob of excited children until at last she reached the end of the fence closest to the barn where the sleigh was to be parked and Santa—Alec—would pose for photos with his reindeer. When she finally got her first glimpse, she simply stood there for a minute, frozen by what she saw.
Prancer, Holly, Snowflake and Sparkle were pulling the sleigh as if they’d been doing this sort of thing all their lives. Sleigh bells were strung all along their leather harnesses, jingling with each step the reindeer took, like something out of an old-fashioned Christmas carol.
Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring ting a tingling, too...
And sure enough, Alec sat atop the sleigh, dressed head to toe in full Santa Claus regalia. But that wasn’t all. Dasher sat beside him, sporting a pair of felt reindeer antlers and a big red bow around her neck. It was just the kind of ridiculous getup that Alec most certainly considered beneath the dog’s dignity, but he’d done it anyway.
For her.
She blinked back tears and fought the overwhelming urge to climb up into that sleigh and ride off into the Alaskan sunset with him. Or the North Pole. Wherever.<
br />
Because I’m in love with him.
Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t be in love with Alec. She didn’t want to be in love, especially not with someone she’d probably never see again after today.
From his perch at the top of the sleigh, Alec sought her out with his piercing blue gaze as he waved to the crowd. As silly as he looked in the comically fluffy white beard and furry red suit, he still somehow managed to take her breath away. And when at last he locked eyes with her, he winked, sending a zing of electricity straight to the center of her chest. To her heart.
Love. Most definitely.
A single, salty tear slipped down her cheek.
God, what am I supposed to do now?
* * *
Alec was still wearing his Jolly St. Nick garb hours after he’d passed out his last candy cane. Despite the fact that snow was falling so fast it was swallowing up the fence, the driveway, even the reindeer, he was hot. And itchy.
He had a whole new appreciation for department-store Santas. The uniform’s comfort left much to be desired.
But it had all been worth it to see the look on Zoey’s face when he rode in on that sleigh. He’d wanted to do something for her, something that would take her breath away. A perfect parting gift.
Mission accomplished. Only now, for some weird reason, he was reluctant to remove the crazy suit. So he left it on while he, Brock and Ben cleaned up the mess from the Christmas festival. At least, he was supposed to be cleaning up. His attention kept drifting toward the windows of the cabin where he could occasionally spot Zoey, backlit by a cozy golden glow, chatting with her friends and counting the pile of dollar bills they’d collected over the course of the afternoon.
The two of them hadn’t exchanged a single word since their kiss the night before, just a wink, a secret smile here and there, a handful of quiet looks while Christmas mayhem spun all around them. Perhaps it was for the best. What was left to say?
Besides goodbye.
“Apple cider?” Brock thrust a mug of fragrant, steaming liquid under Alec’s nose.
“Thanks.” Alec took the mug and glanced once more at the window, but Zoey had disappeared somewhere inside the cabin.
“Why don’t you go on in, man?” Brock waved a gloved hand toward the house.
“Inside?” Alec turned his back to the cabin and the ribbon of smoke coming from its chimney that carried the warm scent of Christmas. Of home.
His throat tightened. “I don’t think so.”
“I see the way you look at her. And I’m the one you pried that ratty Santa suit off of earlier so you could surprise her, remember?” Brock crossed his arms and gave Alec’s attire an amused once-over.
Why didn’t he just take the crazy thing off? “And your point is?”
Brock pinned him with a look. “It’s obvious you’re head over heels in love with her. What are you waiting for? A sign from God?”
No. Yes. Maybe.
He was standing there dressed as Santa Claus. What further sign did he need?
Alec swallowed. “It’s complicated.”
“I can appreciate complicated. Believe me.” Brock exhaled a frustrated sigh. His eyes darted once again to the cabin and then back to Alec.
Something was wrong. Alec could feel it.
He narrowed his gaze at Brock. “What aren’t you saying?”
“It might be more complicated than you think.”
I doubt it. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
Brock shook his head. “She doesn’t have enough.”
“Enough what?” he asked, even though he had a sickening feeling he knew exactly what Brock was talking about.
“Money. Even after all this.” Brock gestured toward the Christmas lights, the evergreen-trimmed fence and the sleigh, where a very sleepy Dasher was taking a well-deserved nap with phony antlers askew atop her furry head.
It couldn’t be true. Things weren’t supposed to end this way. Zoey was supposed to get everything she wanted, everything she deserved. The reindeer, her airplane and a man who was worthy of her love and affection.
His gut churned. “How do you know?”
Brock lowered his voice. “Anya told me, and she swore me to secrecy.”
So Zoey wasn’t even planning on telling him? Perfect. Just perfect.
“Look, I know this isn’t your responsibility. Or your problem,” Brock said.
“You’re right. It’s not,” he ground out.
Then why did everything within him scream at him to fix it? To make things right, to give Zoey her happy ending.
To be that man who was worthy of her love and affection.
He lifted his gaze to the sky, where twilight was descending on the farm in dusky purples and grays.
Is this what You want, Lord? Or am I just looking for an excuse to stay?
He was a mess. He’d been a mess his whole life. Who was he to think he could do this?
I have faith in you, Ebenezer.
The words hit him with the force of an avalanche. And they seemed so silly under the circumstances that he almost laughed aloud. But he didn’t.
Faith. Wasn’t that what it all boiled down to?
He’d had faith once. And then he’d lost it, but being here...in this place, with this woman, he was beginning to find it again. Maybe, just maybe, faith would be enough.
He closed his eyes, and he saw the same thing he’d seen every time he closed his eyes since the night before—Zoey, his beautiful Zoey, looking up at him and telling him that just because he came from a bad place, it didn’t mean he was a bad man.
She believed it down to her core.
Maybe it was time for him to believe it, too. To believe that whether or not he ended up like his parents wasn’t a matter of genetics. It was a matter of choice. Not Zoey’s choice to have faith in him, but his own choice to have faith in himself—and most of all, faith in God.
“Are you okay?” Brock’s voice had a discernible note of concern.
At last, Alec opened his eyes. “Yeah. I think I actually might be all right.” He let out a laugh.
“You sure about that?”
“I am, but I’ve got to go.” He thrust his mug of cider at Brock and strode toward his motorcycle.
He was already straddling his bike and pulling on his helmet when Brock caught up with him. “You do realize you’re still dressed as Santa Claus, right? Where are you going, anyway?”
Alec glanced down. He’d already forgotten about the Santa suit, but what difference did it make now? He looked back up at Brock as he cranked the engine of the motorcycle to life. “To make things right.”
* * *
Zoey peeled back the red checkered curtain of the kitchen window and glanced again at the empty driveway.
Alec had been gone for hours. His motorcycle was no longer parked in its usual place, and no one seemed to have any idea where he’d gone. Even Brock claimed ignorance, which seemed odd because the two of them had been outside together all evening.
Not that she’d been spying on him out the window or anything.
Not much, anyway.
Taking an occasional peek at Alec was certainly more enjoyable than the scene that had played out around her kitchen table. Clementine and Anya had helped her organize the funds they’d raised at the festival, and even though nearly the entire population of Aurora had turned up to have photos taken with the reindeer and roast marshmallows over an open fire, she was still short for the down payment on her airplane. She’d done her best, and the people of Aurora had turned out in droves. But it still wasn’t enough.
She’d been so sure she had things under control, and now everything was falling to pieces around her.
Anya, Brock, Clementine and Ben had stayed long after
all the clean-up work was complete, sitting around the kitchen table and keeping her company. She’d finally shooed them all out the door when the clock neared midnight. It had been nice, though, having them rally around her, trying to keep her mind off the fact that she still didn’t have enough money for her airplane.
No money. No plane. No job.
Her usual trifecta of problems.
But oddly enough, the thing that frightened her the most was the thought of no Alec. The rest she could handle. She wasn’t exactly sure how, but she could deal with logistical details later. It was her heart she wasn’t sure she could fix once they’d said their goodbyes.
If they said their goodbyes. Where was he, anyway?
She peered out the window again. Nothing. But as she replaced the curtain, a riot of frantic barks arose from the pasture. It was so loud and so sudden that Zoey jumped.
Dasher.
And then fear set in. Palmer! Not again.
She prayed as she shoved her arms into her parka and fumbled around in her pockets for her mittens. Please, God, not again. I can’t deal with this. Not now.
Honestly, how much more could she take? It was Christmas Eve, and she very likely had a reindeer on the loose. She didn’t even want to think about what kind of trouble Palmer could get into on a snowy night like this one. The weather outside bordered on blizzard conditions. He could get lost, permanently. Or worse, hit by a car.
The moment she opened the back door, she found herself on the receiving end of a face full of snow. It was coming down almost sideways in big, wet flakes. The pasture was nothing but a whirling white blur before her. If not for Dasher’s panicked barks, she might not have even found it. She followed the commotion and managed to grab hold of the fence. A few steps later, she’d found the gate. She gave the latch a firm tug, but it slipped right through the damp palm of her mitten. She tried again to no avail. All the while Dasher barked and barked. Palmer was nowhere to be seen. She was sure he’d leaped over the fence again. Where had he gone this time? And how far had he gotten? Would Dasher even be able to catch up to him?
Fear coiled deep in her belly, and she wished, more than anything, that Alec was here.