His Christmas Magic

by Drea Roman

  “Don’t do that. Doctor Loomis said you need to rest. Stop moving around so much. You are going to injure yourself further.”

  He giggles as he looks up at me with those shining blue eyes. “Only if you tell me your name, mate.”

  “Darren.”

  “Darren who?”

  I chuckle, completely entranced by him. “Darren Williams. What are we doing now? Knock-knock jokes?”

  Tuck leans back on the pillow. “No, I am pretty sure this is twenty questions.”

  3

  Tuck

  Mate. Mate. I have found my mate. Darren’s rich sage and wood smoke scent permeates the room, comforting me and making me unbearably turned on. Not that I can do anything about that right now. My head chooses this moment to throb, and I moan involuntarily, clutching my head with my hands. The pain suddenly increases. Then I feel Darren’s warm hands cover mine, and the pain recedes. Not gone, but far less noticeable. Darren pulls my hands down and kisses me gently at the crown of my forehead.

  “You’re going to be fine, Tuck, I promise.” Darren’s voice is warm and soothing, like hot cocoa after our midnight sleigh ride around the world. What? I think. But the pain in my head twinges up again, and I lose the thoughts as they swim away like fish frightened by a sudden movement on the surface of the water. I look up to find my mate, who is studying me intently with his dark chocolate brown eyes. His eyelashes are dark and long and I focus on them a moment until he blinks, darting my attention away. It is as if the world keeps cycling into focus, then out again. Just like the tracking on that old VCR Nick refuses to part with. What? But the thoughts disappear again, taken down in an undertow in my mind. Sudden dizziness hits me, and I slump forward, dropping my head onto Darren’s shoulder.

  He murmurs something in my ear, but I don’t quite catch it. His hands slip away from mine, one going to my shoulder and the other to the back of my head as he lowers me down to lie against the mattress. A whirring noise; then the bed sinks back into a flat position. Darren plumps the pillow around my head and pulls the blanket up to my neck, tucking me in securely. He looks down at me with such a loving expression that tears spring to my eyes. Even though I am lying down, it is obvious my mate is much taller than me, six feet at least. Like Nick, I think, before the comparison slips away in my injured brain. His shoulder-length brown locks curl in waves at the ends. So pretty I want to run my fingers through it, but I haven’t got the energy.

  “Tucking me in,” I murmur, then laugh, but the sound is soft and barely audible even to my own ears.

  “Sleep, Tuck.” I hear Darren say softly as my eyes flutter shut and I fall under sleep’s spell.

  When I awaken, it seems a few hours have passed. The sun is shining through the window blinds from a different angle than earlier. It must be evening then. I woke up just in time for the setting sun.

  The bed’s control remote is under my hand, and I smile because Darren must have placed it there for me. I raise the bed and myself up, then glance around the room gingerly, careful not to move my head too quickly. Even this soft motion makes my stomach flip-flop, and I swallow hard to keep from vomiting. Darren is not here, and I feel a spike of panic. Shh, replies that soft voice in my head. All will be well, Tuck.

  “Nick,” I murmur, sure that is who the voice belongs to. If only I remembered who he is and, more importantly, where he is. Momentarily calmed by the mysterious voice of Nick, I look toward the door. Now I can hear people talking outside in the hall: Darren’s warm voice and perhaps other men. I am unsure. Darren’s voice raises, and then the door bursts open. A tall, broad-shouldered man with long, dark hair shoulders his way past my mate, with a large aluminum dish, covered in foil, in his hands.

  “We are coming in whether you like it or not, Darren. Now where can I put down the food? This pan is getting too hot for my hands.”

  His cocky, teasing demeanor makes me laugh, and I gesture toward my hospital tray table.

  “You can put it right here, mysterious stranger who comes bearing gifts. Are you Santa Claus?” As the man laughs and sets down the container on my hospital tray table, a weird sensation of recognition resounds through me, and I hear deep, rumbling laughter in my head. I seem to have amused the voice there.

  “Nah,” says the man as he offers his hand to shake mine. I take his in a brief shake, but Darren growls and swoops around the man and stands between him and the bed, forcing the man to drop my hand.

  “Eddie.” The tone is a warning. But Eddie appears unrepentant and laughs.

  “No worries, D-man. I’m not trying to steal your mate.”

  “Don’t call me D-man. How many times do I have to tell you. . .”

  My laughter interrupts them and draws the attention of both men standing beside my hospital bed, as well as the attention of the troupe of guys now spilling into my room. All of them look at me with various expressions of curiosity as a tall blond man steps forward, and the chaos I am sure was pending moments before fizzles out under his calm and commanding presence.

  He clears his throat before throwing Darren and me an amused smile. “Hello, there. Sorry to interrupt your convalescence, but as soon as we heard Darren had found his mate, the team insisted we come down and bring some of the Thanksgiving dinner you both missed. My name is Avi, by the way, the fire chief and your mate’s boss.” He sets another box—this one filled with plates, other dining utensils, and from the aroma, dessert—on one of the hard, plastic visitors’ chairs that line the wall.

  “Thank you,” I reply, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room, which causes me to draw in a startled breath. Wow, I am not accustomed to so many tall and beautiful men surrounding me. Elves are all short as a general rule, Nick and the reindeer shifters being the only height-unchallenged beings in my family circle. Wait. Nick and the reindeer shifters? As I try to focus on that thought, it flies away from me, like a late autumn leaf caught in a wintery breeze.

  Avi glances at his watch and winces. “Speaking of the time, I had better go. Sean is waiting for me back at the station.” He looks sternly at my mate. “Don’t think you are coming back to work until your mate is healed up. We have some newer guys who are chomping at the bit,” with that, he glances at Eddie, who groans and flips off his boss, “for a chance to work with your team. No worries. I wouldn’t replace the only sane shifter I have, surrounded as I am by all of these crazy horses.”

  The other guys wish him well, and when Avi leaves, all eyes turn back to me, and I’m momentarily without words. I’m not usually shy. Well, I don’t think I’m usually shy, but I feel like I walked into a firefighter calendar photoshoot, and any second now these guys are going to start taking off their t-shirts and posing with adoptable kittens. It would be exciting any other time, I think, but for the moment, their presence makes me nervous. Then I feel Darren’s warm hand in mine. His scent wraps around my senses, and I relax.

  Darren huffs, but the sound is more resigned than annoyed. “Since these jackasses insisted upon coming down, I might as well introduce them. Then we can send them away.”

  “Hey,” pipes up the one named Eddie, “we brought you food, and this is the way you thank us, kicking us out before we even have a chance to meet your mate?”

  “Nosy horses,” Darren mutters under his breath, and one of the other guys laughs, then blushes as if he embarrassed himself.

  “Since,” Eddie continues, and I know immediately that he is the ringleader of all shenanigans of the group, “Darren is being so rude, I will take it upon myself to do the polite thing.” He winks at Darren before extending his hand around my wolf’s side in an effort to offer me his hand again. Darren slaps it away, and Eddie laughs as if that were the exact reaction he was going for.

  “I’m Eddie, Arabian horse shifter, and your mate’s best friend and fellow firefighter. These other guys are the rest of our Firebreaker team.” He gestures his other hand toward the guys standing awkwardly by the door of my room.

  Eddie names them as he points
them out: “Colt here is a gentle giant Clydesdale shifter.”

  Colt blushes deeply and tries to cover his face with one of his large hands, before dropping it and stepping forward to quietly say, “It is nice to meet you. Don’t pay attention to Eddie. He’s too brash for his own good.”

  Eddie shoulder-checks Colt out of the way, and the other men step forward. “Here you have Chase, Xander, Leo, and Philippe.” Each man waves and sends me a smile, obviously used to Eddie pulling them into something. But then my mind stalls on that last name.

  “Your name is Philippe?” I ask the shifter standing closest to the door. “That name sounds familiar.”

  Philippe laughs and smiles ruefully. “You can blame my mother for naming me after a cartoon horse. You know, the one from Beauty and the Beast.”

  I shake my head as jingle bells go off in my brain. That name is so familiar. Why do I know that name? I study him for a moment, and the room is hushed. But the thought escapes me, so I sigh. “Well, my name is Tuck. It is nice to meet you, Philippe. I just can’t figure out where I’ve heard your name before.”

  Philippe nods, and another man pushes past him to stand beside Eddie. “The name’s Chase. If you ever want to go racing, just let me know. I got to jet, guys. It was nice to meet you, Tuck. Congrats, Darren.”

  Since the room is thinning out a bit, I feel some tension leave me. Eddie starts pulling containers of food out of the large aluminum pan, calling out orders to the others. In no time, there are two beautifully dressed plates, each loaded down with turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, sage dressing, yams, and cranberry sauce, set on my hospital table.

  “Don’t forget the rolls,” the horse named Colt says. He places one on a napkin and tries to hand it to me, but Darren steps forward and growls, pushing his friend completely away from the bed.

  Color drains from the shifter’s face, and he tries to stumble out an apology. “Sor-r-r-y, Darren. I didn’t mean anything. . . I was just trying to give him a roll.” He looks at me, panic written all over his face, and my heart goes out to him.

  I gently grab Darren’s forearm and tug him back toward me. When I smile up at him, some of his alpha territorialism fades, and he smiles back, though his eyes give him away as on-edge and dangerously riled. “It’s okay. Thank you, Colt. Just set it on the tray table. You are very kind.”

  Darren growls again, and I cannot help but laugh at my mate this time. I never realized I would find a man’s jealousy over me so darned cute. “Easy there, Mr. Wolf. He’s your friend, and he is being very polite to your new mate. Don’t you have any manners?”

  My gentle tease, delivered with a grin on my face, seems to settle my mate’s instincts, and he sighs. “Sorry, Colt. Not used to . . .” He pauses. “Well, any of this yet.”

  I growl playfully at my mate, just to show him I can, and the flash of surprise and amusement in his dark eyes as he looks down at me makes my heart dance in my chest. I’m sure the moment would have led to a kiss, but Colt interrupts with another apology.

  “Really, Darren, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I . . .”

  With a snap of my fingers and a twirl of my wrist, I produce a grape Tootsie Roll pop and hold it out to the flustered horse shifter. Several gasps sound around the room. “Take it,” I encourage him. “It is your favorite.”

  Colt looks at me with huge, surprised eyes. He glances at Darren cautiously before my mate nods, and Colt takes the candy from my hand. “Thank you. How did you know? How did you do that?”

  I shrug a shoulder and open my mouth to reply. But my feeling of playful joy is gone as I realize I have no idea how I pulled this man’s favorite candy from thin air. “Magic, I guess.” But my answer comes out more like a question than a statement. The room falls eerily silent, and I feel conspicuous and even a little bit scared. It seems I have magic, but I have no idea why or how.

  “Shh, it will be fine, Tuck, I promise.”

  Tears fill my eyes as I look up at my mate.

  “I just don’t remember. What if I never remember, Darren? What will happen to me then?”

  Darren leans down and takes me gently in his embrace. He soothes me with sweet murmurs in my ear. His friends put away the containers as we hug and then wait quietly by the door. I can see them over my mate’s shoulder, and their expressions tell me they are worried too. . . about me. And then my heart fills with gladness. Even if I don’t know who I am, I can make this work, with my mate and his friends by my side. With one more squeeze, I pull back.

  “You guys can stay, if you like. You brought us more than enough food for two.”

  Eddie shakes his head and approaches the bed again, this time with more caution than his earlier teasing of Darren’s new mate instincts. “It was nice to meet you, Tuck. Don’t worry. Since you mated this mangy wolf,” Darren growls again, bearing his teeth at his friend, who snickers unrepentantly, “you will certainly see more of us. Say,” his eyes light up, “maybe you can use that magic trick to make us some lasagna.”

  Darren shoves his friend away and hustles him toward the door as Eddie laughs at his predictable response. The other horses call out their goodbyes and wave as they walk out of my hospital room. I wave back as relief spreads through me. The guys seem wonderful, but at the moment, exhaustion is creeping in, and my head is once again pounding.

  “Tuck, I have to talk to Eddie a minute. Do you mind?” I shake my head and immediately regret it. The scrunched-up look on my face must give me away as Darren gives me a gentle kiss on the forehead before stepping out into the hall to talk with his friend a moment.

  I lean back on my pillow and pull the hospital tray table toward me. The food smells delicious. I would rather wait for Darren, but my stomach growls. By the way my head feels, I’m probably going to need pain meds again soon, so I decide to take this opportunity to eat while I can. The food is delicious, especially the smoky, sage flavor of the dressing. Whomever made this knows how to cook. Contentedly, I eat as I wait for my mate to return.

  4

  Darren

  “What’s up?” Eddie asks as I pull Tuck’s hospital door closed behind me. His eyes are serious. “His head injury must be pretty severe if he can’t remember how or why he can do magic.” My best friend’s eyes light up, and he thumps me on the chest with the back of his hand.

  “Dude! Your mate is freaking MAGIC.” He waggles his eyebrows at me obscenely, which causes Xander and Leo to roll their eyes and Colt to frown.

  “Stop teasing him, Eddie. Darren, your mate was very nice, and I hope I didn’t offend you too much by offering him a roll.”

  Eddie throws Colt an annoyed look before rolling his eyes. “It’s fine, Colt. God, you worry too much.”

  An expression of hurt passes over the Clydesdale shifter’s face before he calms the look down to a blank. “Just being polite, Edmund. You need to work on that.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Ed, learn some manners,” I chime in, relieved to know my team has my back. Now my best friend glares at me, and I grin unrepentantly.

  “I need a favor, guys.” The five nod almost simultaneously. “Tuck crashed a sleigh into the corner post of my property line fence near my dad’s old barn. Would you mind pulling the wreckage into the barn and making sure the fence’s barbed wire isn’t laying on the ground where an animal or a shifter could get tangled up in it?”

  Eddie snorts. “No self-respecting shifter above the age of twelve would get caught in barbed wire.”

  I shoot him a glare. “I seem to remember one mishap after another when we were teens, Mr. Ed.”

  Eddie glares at me, then nods. “Sure, no problem.” Then he smiles with a little bit of awe and childish delight. “He crashed a SLEIGH?”

  At my nod, his eyes almost roll up into his head in delight. “Dude! Your mate is a Christmas elf.”

  Anxiety prickles up in me. “No,” I stutter, alarmed. “Santa and his elves aren’t real. He could be some sort of elf, but we can figure it out later. I’m concerned about th
at head wound.”

  Colt steps up and pats me on the shoulder. “We know. This isn’t the same situation. Tuck is under a doctor’s care, and you will make sure nothing bad happens. You’ll see. Everything will be all right.”

  Eddie nods, uncharacteristically solemn. “Yeah, man. It’s going to be fine. You found him in time.” The five of us stand in silence a moment as we each remember the friend and fellow firefighter we lost. Eddie, of course, shakes himself out of the momentary melancholy first. He slaps my back and grins.

  “We’ll get his sleigh and even fix up the fence in the morning. Wouldn’t want any roving bands of thieves invading your lands through a broken-down fence.”

  I roll my eyes, but smile. “Thanks, guys, I appreciate it.”

  My rowdy bunch of teammates leave, and I feel blessed to have them in my life. Now, I have a lovely mate to tend to.

  Though I have only been gone fewer than ten minutes, I find Tuck asleep in his bed, the back still up in a sitting position, his plate full of Thanksgiving dinner completely empty. I take the opportunity to study him. Sure, I have watched him all day as he slept, but mostly with a sense of anxiety and fear clouding my perceptions. Now, since the doctor has assured me, repeatedly, that Tuck will be okay, I finally feel free to really look at my new mate.

  Mate. I sigh. Wow, I honestly hadn’t thought much about mating. Since my father died ten years ago, all I’ve paid attention to is my job and my team. The horses are a curious and rowdy bunch, all with the exception of the gentle giant, Colt. I’m glad they’ve been here for me. Now, I am suddenly considering the future and what it has in store for me and my tiny mate.

  Mate. Tuck is much shorter than my six-foot height, probably no more than 5’2’’, if that. He is petite with pearly, milk-toned skin and crystalline blue eyes, framed by dark lashes I can see resting on his cheeks as he sleeps. His hair is a nearly white blond shade and a little long around the ears. I lean over the rail of his bed and run a fingertip over the edge of his ear. Curiously, the shape feels strange to my finger, almost pointed, but it looks curved and normal as I look at it. Maybe he is an elf? I shake my head. He could be an elf, but there is no way he is a Christmas elf. Santa doesn’t exist. Does he?