A Little Country Christmas

by Carolyn Brown

  He kicked off his shoes inside the door and stripped off his clothes on the way down the hall to the bathroom, a perk of living alone. He might be mayor, but that didn’t mean he was a neat freak. He’d get to the laundry when he was good and ready.

  Naked, mentally exhausted but also cleansed, he squared his shoulders and turned the shower on, pushing the lever as far toward the H as it would go.

  He waited a good fifteen seconds and then let out a relieved breath when the room began to fill with steam.

  “Well done, Mayor Cooper,” he said to no one in particular. If Mr. Big-City Politician could fix a hot water heater, there was no telling what else he was capable of, right?

  He stepped into the hot spray and let the water wash away his encounter with Deputy Garcia. Daniela Garcia. Dani, if he remembered correctly.

  He closed his eyes and braced a palm against the cool tile of the shower wall.

  Dani Garcia, with caramel eyes and unbridled disdain for the man who avoided what most thought to be the happiest time of year.

  Sure. One long, hot shower would definitely erase it all from his mind. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

  So imagine his surprise when he showed up to the Meadow Valley town hall—his running gear replaced by his navy suit and silver tie—to find the unforgettable Deputy Garcia sitting in full uniform on the bench outside his door, her jaw set and eyes narrowed as she muttered something to the man on the bench beside her. Deputy Teddy Crawford was the only other officer who worked in the sheriff’s office aside from Sheriff Thompson himself.

  Peyton approached his office assistant, Keith—a twenty-two-year-old local with political aspirations of his own—and rested an elbow on his desk.

  “Do I have a meeting with the deputies?” he asked softly. Dani still hadn’t noticed his arrival.

  Keith shook his head. “They just barged in here…Well, she was more the one to barge. Deputy Crawford at least wished me a good morning and tipped his hat. But you apparently did a number on her.”

  “What?” Peyton whisper-shouted. “Did a number? Did she say—I mean, what, exactly, did she say?”

  Keith sighed. “All she said was that the sheriff sent them over and that you’d know why they were here.”

  Peyton had no idea why they were here.

  “Do I have any other meetings this morning that might preclude my being able to invite them into my office?”

  Keith sighed, then blew a shock of sandy brown hair off his forehead only for it to fall in exactly the same place again. “Nope. This office is pretty much a ghost town. Nothing on the agenda until after…” He paused and then leaned forward and whispered, “the holidays.”

  Peyton rolled his eyes. “Just because…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “Christmas isn’t my thing doesn’t mean any mention of it is off-limits.”

  “You can barely choke out the word.” Keith winced. “And you did suggest canceling one of Meadow Valley’s most-loved traditions, but when the town balked, you countered with that whole only during off-hours mandate, and if we’re being honest, Mr. Mayor—which you know by now I always am—when anyone does mention, um Christmas, you get a little sulky.”

  Peyton’s jaw tightened.

  “Exactly like that!” Keith said, his eyes brightening. “So forgive me if I’m out of line, but it might work in your favor to fake it ’til you make it with all the holiday stuff.”

  “Fake it ’til I make it?” Peyton cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “And sulky? I’m a grown man. I don’t get—sulky,” he insisted, then realized he was maybe, possibly, sulking. So he painted on his best mayoral grin and pivoted toward his uninvited guests.

  “Deputies,” he said, and both Dani and Teddy stood. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” He gave Deputy Crawford a firm shake and then held his hand out for Dani. She hesitated for a brief moment and then wrapped her hand around his with the same strong grip she used when wrenching his arm behind his back.

  Peyton laughed softly. “So nice to greet you face-to-face this time, Deputy Garcia, rather than waiting to hear you read me my Miranda rights.” They kept shaking as he made the joke, and it felt oddly like a game of chicken as to who would let go first. What felt odder was his urge to not let go, even as her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened.

  Deputy Crawford laughed. “Am I missing something?” he asked. “Because this sounds like a story I’d love to hear.”

  Dani looked down at their still-joined hands and snatched hers back. Then she smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles from her perfectly starched shirt. “It’s nothing,” she said evenly. “Just a misunderstanding.”

  Peyton clapped Teddy on the shoulder of his tan uniform shirt and nodded. “I’m sure Deputy Garcia would love to tell you all about our misunderstanding later. But right now, how about you both come inside and let me know why we’re meeting first thing in the morning.”

  He unlocked his office door and motioned for Dani and Teddy to enter before he followed them inside.

  He flipped on the light and then strode behind his desk to where a coffeemaker sat on the windowsill prepped and ready to go. He pressed the power button, then turned to face his visitors.

  Teddy had already made himself comfortable in one of the two leather armchairs facing his desk. Dani, however, was strolling the perimeter of the room, brushing her hand along the oak-paneled walls and running her fingers down the thick blue drapes that covered the window on the side wall.

  Peyton cleared his throat. “That’s Grady’s doing,” he said. “The drapes, I mean. Well, the whole room. Leather chairs and floor-to-ceiling window coverings. It’s all so—”

  “Stuffy? Uptight?” Dani said, finishing his thought yet somehow accusing him of something. “Don’t suppose you’ve stepped foot in the sheriff’s office since you took up as mayor. We could use some fancy walls and drapes. Or maybe just a roof that doesn’t leak.”

  “Your roof leaks?” he said, and the deputy scoffed, which somehow felt like another accusation.

  He decided to ignore her needling for the time being. After all, they weren’t here to discuss the state of the Sheriff’s Department. Or were they? He still didn’t know, so he dove into full-fledged customer service mode. If you can’t beat ’em, charm the hell out of ’em. “Exactly, Deputy Garcia. You’re very observant.” The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filled the space between them, and he inhaled deep. “Coffee, Deputies?” he asked.

  Deputy Crawford held up a travel mug Peyton hadn’t noticed before now. “Already on my second cup, but thank you.”

  “I’m just getting started,” Dani said—as did Peyton. At the same time.

  Teddy glanced between them and laughed again. “That was amazing,” he teased. “Did you two plan it?”

  Dani collapsed into the chair beside her partner and Peyton turned back to the now-full coffeepot.

  Another standoff.

  Neither of them responded.

  “Okay, then,” Teddy said. “Awkward,” he added with a mumble that was probably only meant for his fellow deputy but Peyton caught it nonetheless.

  Awkward. Yeah. That pretty much summed up the morning so far, and it was only nine o’clock.

  “How do you take yours?” he asked over his shoulder.

  He waited for her to say cream and two sugars, just like his, and then braced himself for yet more ribbing from Deputy Crawford after.

  “Black,” she said. “And I hope you brew it strong.”

  That he did. Maybe he couldn’t stomach the bitterness of drinking it straight, but that didn’t mean he liked it watered down. Not even close.

  He pivoted back toward his guests, a mug of coffee extended over his desk toward Deputy Garcia.

  She raised a brow as she peered into the mug, the rich, dark liquid letting off steam.

  She breathed in and sighed. “Not bad,” she said, then leaned over his desk to peek into his mug. She chuckled. “Didn’t take you for the cream-an
d-sugar type. Actually, didn’t take you for the drip type at all. I’m surprised you don’t have your own little barista. Only the fancy stuff for city folk, right?”

  Peyton shrugged. “Guess you’re just chock-full of misconceptions today.”

  “Anyway,” Teddy said, and Peyton realized he needed to shift his focus from all things Deputy Garcia to why she and her partner were here.

  “Right,” Peyton said. “Let’s get down to business.” He relaxed into the high-backed leather chair that—while it, too, had belonged to Mayor Grady—he wasn’t against keeping even after he tailored his office more to his liking. But that would come later. After the house. For now the space was functional, and that was all that mattered.

  “As you know, Mayor Cooper,” Deputy Crawford began, “the—uh—Holiday Lights Parade is next week. On Christmas Eve.”

  He paused, and Peyton guessed the other man was waiting for him to get sulky, but he wouldn’t give Keith the satisfaction, even if his assistant wasn’t in the room. So instead he forced a grin, possibly too big of a grin judging by the two deputies’ puzzled expressions. Maybe he was overcompensating for the sulking—that he hadn’t even done—but he didn’t want anyone mistaking his reaction for anything other than pleasant.

  “Excellent tradition,” he said, letting the muscles in his face relax a little. “As are all Meadow Valley traditions—as long as they don’t cost the town more money and time than they’re worth.”

  Deputy Crawford took a long swig from his travel mug before continuing. “The thing is, Mr. Mayor, with all due respect, Meadow Valley is what it is because of traditions. Occasions like this that bring the whole town together. It seems maybe you’ve forgotten how special that is. Even though you’ve been back almost six months and acting mayor for half of that time now, it’s been awhile since you’ve been around for the lights parade. The sheriff was worried about you…How did he put it? About the mayor’s office bowing out of the parade. He assumed it was because you were short-staffed, seeing as it’s only you and Keith until after the first of the year.”

  Peyton gave Dani a knowing look. “Wow. News sure does travel fast, doesn’t it, Deputy Garcia?”

  She raised a brow. “I was concerned that you might need help but not know how to ask for it.” Then she paused to take a sip of her coffee. “And of course my suggestion of finding you a few extra hands—after office hours, of course—blew up right in my face.”

  “How’s that?” Peyton asked.

  “He sent us as reinforcements,” she said. “Which means I’m pulling double duty because there’s no way I’m letting the sheriff’s office lose.”

  Interesting. If Peyton had to describe her tone in nothing more than one word, he might call it sulky.

  He bit back a smile. “I didn’t think the parade was a competition,” he said. But then the other part of her sentence sank in.

  He sent us as reinforcements.

  His smile fell. “While I appreciate your concern for my lack of extra hands around here, the square technically isn’t part of First Street,” he said. “If the town hall takes a break this year or next year or indefinitely—”

  “Indefinitely?” Deputy Garcia asked, incredulous. “Maybe we have too many festivals for your liking, but this one? It’s the oldest and dearest to so many residents. And also, you’re wrong. Because First Street ends at the square.”

  “But the address of all three buildings on the square is On the Square. Not First Street. So the town hall taking a breather for this year to start, while the first-year mayor gets his bearings, really shouldn’t affect Meadow Valley’s coming together and all that,” he argued.

  She set her coffee cup down on her side of his desk and pressed her palms against the polished wood. “Some would say that the square is the heart of First Street and that having the largest and most prominent building in the square not participate in a time-honored tradition would absolutely affect the town’s coming together. And all that.”

  Peyton opened his mouth to counter yet again but caught Deputy Crawford’s gaze volley from Dani to him. He’d been watching them like they were locked in the final point of a tennis match, and if Peyton had to make a prediction, he’d say he was neither beating nor charming the hell out of anyone.

  The last thing he wanted was to add any more fuel to the fire or to live up even more to his nickname of Grinch. So he relented. To an extent. He was a politician after all.

  He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

  “Okay, Deputies. I see and value your point. But I’m working on reallocating the fiscal budget so that it better suits the town, which means whatever sort of light treatment the town hall gets, it will have to come from what Mayor Grady left in the storage room, and it will have to be done after hours so as not to interfere with our daytime responsibilities—just like everybody else. Seeing as how the Sheriff’s Department consists of no more than the sheriff and the two of you, that’s going to make for a busy week. For both of you. But I’m willing to shake on it if you are.”

  He stood, walked around his desk, and held out his right hand.

  “Do we have a deal?”

  Peyton was relieved when Deputy Crawford stood first.

  “Just one question before we shake,” he asked. “Since this is happening after hours, and we have lives outside of work”—he glanced toward his partner—“well, at least I know I do.” He chuckled, and Dani rolled her eyes. “Would it be permissible for Deputy Garcia and me to split our time working on the mayor’s office?”

  “Absolutely,” Peyton said, giving Deputy Crawford’s hand a firm shake. “Send over whoever draws the short straw at five o’clock this evening. We’ll iron out the details then.” Except he realized that might mean time alone with Deputy Garcia.

  He should have backtracked. He should have insisted the two deputies work together and knock a half-assed lighting job out in one evening, especially since he still wanted no part of it. But instead he found himself pulling his hand from Teddy’s and grabbing Dani’s with renewed purpose.

  “Looking forward to getting reacquainted with both of you,” he added, and even though he thought lasers or death rays or something equally catastrophic might shoot from Deputy Garcia’s golden-brown eyes and obliterate him on the spot, he couldn’t help but grin.

  Chapter Three

  At the end of the day, Dani and Teddy flipped a coin to see who would be on call for the sheriff’s office and who would be ironing out the details with Mayor Cooper.

  Dani readied herself, the quarter perched on top of her thumb.

  “Call it, Crawford,” she said, and sent the coin sailing into the air.

  “Tails,” Teddy said matter-of-factly, like he knew whatever he called would be correct.

  The coin clattered on top of the desk the two deputies shared, Dani sitting on one side and Teddy on the other.

  Tails.

  “Two out of three?” Dani asked, and her partner shrugged.

  “If it makes you feel better.”

  She tossed the coin again and nodded toward Teddy to call it once more.

  “I’m liking my odds with tails,” he said.

  Again the quarter hit the desk, spun, and landed on tails.

  “Are you some sort of sorcerer?” Dani asked, then added, “Three out of five?”

  Teddy laughed. “Garcia, I’ll give you four out of seven, five out of nine, six out of ten—whatever floats your boat, but the odds are in my favor.”

  Dani narrowed her gaze at him. “And why is that?”

  Her partner grinned. “Because I can read people, Deputy. It’s part of the job. And what I read between you and the mayor this morning?” He shook his hand out like he’d accidentally touched a burning pan on a lit stove. “Sizz-ling. The universe wants this to happen.”

  She rolled her eyes. “False,” she said. “He just makes me so crazy with his ‘Christmas isn’t my thing,’ and ‘The mayor’s office doesn’t really count,’ and ‘Are yo
u apologizing for calling me a grinch?’ and—” She growled softly. “Besides, if you really thought that, you’d have been ribbing me all day about it. You’re just pulling stuff out of your rear end to cover for your otherworldly powers when it comes to coin tosses.”

  “I’m a professional, Deputy Garcia. I save my ribbing for when we’re off the clock.” He laughed. “Also, I’ve known you since we were kids. Don’t think I forgot the two-year crush you had on that Grinch. Figured it was a sensitive subject I should let marinate before bringing it up. Consider marination complete.” His dark brows rose. “Wait.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and his chin in his hands. “When did you call him a grinch to his face? There’s no way I missed that in the good mayor’s office this morning. You were supposed to fill me in on a misunderstanding that happened earlier, right? No time like the present.”

  Dani crumpled up a piece of paper on her desk and tossed it straight at her partner’s nose, but he straightened and caught it. Damn his good reflexes.

  “O-kay,” the other deputy said. “Still a sensitive subject.” He shrugged and pushed himself back from the desk and stood. “Enjoy your night, Deputy. Pop by Midtown Tavern when you’re done. I’ll let you buy me a beer if I haven’t already found a lovely tourist to do it herself.”

  She stood as well. “You’re on call, Deputy Crawford. It’s just soda for you tonight. But feel free to buy me a cold one when I get there.” She doubted her meeting with the mayor would take long. The sun had already set, so the most they could do was discuss how and when to fit in decorating the Town Hall by Christmas Eve.

  Dani grabbed her quarter and shoved it back in her pocket, offering Teddy her best self-satisfied grin, but there was no rattling him. There never was.

  “No worries, partner. I don’t need a pint to enjoy myself. There are still tourists,” he said.

  She sighed and pushed in her chair. “Ever thought about any of the locals? A relationship that lasts longer than a one- or two-week vacation?”