North Pole City Tales 03 - Vixen's Valor (3 page)

“That he’ll break your heart.”

Vale blinked, surprise by the sincere yet embarrassed expression on his brother’s face. “Is that truly your greatest concern?” It wasn’t like his brother to be so sentimental. Not even when they had been tiny elves. Whenever Vale would scrape his knee, he’d wail and sob big fat tears, but not Hollis. Hollis would square his shoulders, pat Vale on the head, and help him tend to his knee. He supposed in his own way, Hollis had always looked after Vale.

“Of course. I know we rarely see eye to eye on matters, but you’re my brother. I love you. The last thing I want is for some foolhardy, opportunistic Christmas elf to get his mitts on you and hurt you.”

“Oh, Hollis.” Vale threw his arms around his brother’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’re so very wonderful at times.”

“What do you mean ‘at times’? I’m wonderful all the bloody time,” Hollis grumbled, and Vale couldn’t help his chuckle. He also noticed his brother had made no move to push him away. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” Vale promised, releasing his brother and sitting back, a dopey smile on his face.

It took no time at all to get them to the Claus Causeway, and the toy soldiers at the gate let them in without pause. They left their sleigh with the valet, though Vale promised he would be back shortly. He would keep the wintry winds from getting to the basket and freezing any of the warm treats inside.

The Claus Causeway was vast and resembled any other airfield, except with far more sparkle. There were snowy fields instead of neatly manicured lawns and a runway that stretched on for miles. On one side there were nine bright red hangars decorated with twinkling white lights and a large sign stating the Rein Dear’s name. Aside from storing their biplanes, the hangars also contained offices the Rein Dears worked out of. Their helpers and mechanics also worked from inside the hangars. At the very end, an extra-large white hangar housed the Causeway’s administrative office. At times Mayor Kringle could be found there.

Vale followed Hollis to Vixen’s hangar, and they stood outside, watching as, one by one, nine biplanes landed on the Causeway in a neat little row with Rudy’s cherry-red plane at the head. Vixen’s plane was fourth in the lineup and, like its owner, was bright and bursting with flare. From nose to tail, it was painted in red-and-white candy-cane stripes.

The propeller on each plane slowed its spinning, and the Rein Dear pilots emerged from their cockpits. The crowd erupted into cheers and catcalls while the Rein Dears waved and Vixen blew kisses. The audience wasn’t as large as it would be the day of the Big Flight and mostly consisted of helpers, mechanics, toy soldiers, and friends of the Rein Dears, with the exception of a few determined fans who had somehow managed to gain entrance.

Mayor Kringle tended to keep the test runs private in case there were any mishaps. Although the pilots had hundreds of years of experience, along with the aid of the Frost family where weather was concerned, one never knew what could happen. The Rein Dears broke off into small groups, chatting with one another and their helpers, who ran to assist. Vixen looked quite dashing in his red-and-black flight jacket, a contrast to his fair hair, which was windswept and falling roguishly over his brow. His flight goggles were perched on his head, and he was removing his black gloves. A dark-haired toy soldier appeared on the tarmac, and Vale watched curiously as the elf approached Vixen, a broad smile on his face. Vixen returned the toy soldier’s smile.

Hollis’s frown mirrored Vale’s own. “It looks like someone else has his eye on your Christmas elf.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, but then, I can hardly keep track of every toy soldier in our service. Your Vixen doesn’t seem all that put off by him.”

His brother was right. Then again, Vale wasn’t courting Vixen. The Christmas elf was free to spend time with whomever he wished. Vale had heard all the rumors of Vixen and his affections, but Vale didn’t fault him. Vixen was free to do as he pleased, and it was no one’s place to tell him otherwise. Still, Vale couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Vale asked his brother, unable to stop himself from sounding disheartened. He really wished his brother wouldn’t look at him like that. As if the answer was obvious.

“You’re merely going to stand here and watch some toy soldier sweep him off his feet? Honestly, Vale, that’s hardly romantic.”

Vale was uncertain of what stunned him most: his brother offering advice on matters of the heart or his suggestion he should be bolder. He watched the attractive toy soldier brazenly flirt with Vixen, who in turn laughed and flirted back.

“For Holly’s sake, you’re Lieutenant Vale Frost. Get out there and show that willful Christmas elf who you are and what you want. Or is he merely a passing fancy?” Hollis asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Absolutely not! You know very well I don’t have dalliances.”

“Then make your intentions known, or that pixie is going to make off with some other elf.”

Crabapples. His brother was right. If he wanted to win Vixen’s affections, he would have to be bolder. After all, Vixen wasn’t a timid elf in the least. He was intrepid, confident, and unafraid to speak his mind. Bidding his brother farewell, Vale squared his shoulders and strode over to the two elves.

“Forgive me for interrupting.”

“Lieutenant, Sir!” The toy soldier saluted and stood at attention, the gesture seeming to catch Vixen by surprise. Aware of Vixen’s sudden interest, Vale stood to his full height, lifted his chin, and donned the authoritative tone he used when addressing their kingdom’s army.

“At ease, Officer. If you would excuse us. I have matters to discuss with Vixen.”

“Uh, yes, sir. Of course.” The dark-haired toy soldier bowed several times before darting off. When Vale turned his attention back to Vixen, the heated look in Vixen’s eyes caught him off guard. The Christmas elf stepped up close to Vale and ran his fingers along the gold braiding on Vale’s jacket. Vale steeled himself. It was difficult to concentrate when Vixen focused his attention on him in such a manner.

“I didn’t know you could be so… commanding.”

It appeared Vale had just learned something new about the mischievous elf. “One of the many parts I play,” Vale replied, his voice going low.

“Hm, I’m interested in learning more about this playing,” Vixen purred at him, sending the most delicious shiver up Vale’s spine. He hoped his face wasn’t too flushed. Having smoldering Christmas elves brazenly touching him wasn’t exactly a common occurrence. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit he rather enjoyed it. A lot.

“I’d be happy to assist. I came to pick you up for our sleigh ride. Providing you don’t mind leaving your toy soldier friend behind.”

Vixen gave him a knowing look and wagged a finger at him. “Why, Lieutenant, is that the green-eyed monster I see peeking out from behind those alluring eyes of yours?”

“I’m afraid it might be.” He took Vixen’s hand in his and bowed over it. “Please, call me Vale.”

“I can work with that. Let’s go on that sleigh ride.” Vixen looped his arm through Vale’s and accompanied him to his sleigh. Vale helped him in, smiling when Vixen gasped with delight. He took one of the fur blankets and wrapped it around himself before sliding in under the rest. He wriggled happily, snuggling in and making Vale chuckle.

“You certainly know how to travel in style.”

“I wanted you to be comfortable.” He climbed in beside Vixen and motioned to the basket on the floor before taking the reins. “I had the kitchen put a little something together for our excursion.”

The bells jingled as Vale maneuvered the sleigh out of the Claus Causeway toward the snowy fields leading to the Enchanted Woods. He’d spent several months pondering on what he would do if Vixen accepted his invitation. Beside him, Vixen lifted the basket from the floor and placed it carefully on the blankets next to him. When he opened it, a multitude of mouthwatering scents wafted up to greet them. The kitchen staff had done a marvelous job filling the basket with freshly baked sugar cookies, small pies stuffed with spiced meat, roasted chestnuts, confectionary, a bottle of mulled wine with two glasses, and two sealed tankards of hot cocoa.

Vixen gasped and swiped up a cookie. “Sugar cookies with sprinkles! These are my favorite.” He cast Vale a shrewd glance. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“You caught me red-handed,” Vale confessed. “I asked Rudy what your favorite treats were.” Vale felt a hand on his thigh, and he gave a start.

“Apparently he didn’t list my most favorite treat.”

Vale swallowed hard. Holy holly, it was getting rather warm under these blankets. Seeming to sense his distress, Vixen chuckled and pulled his hand away. He nibbled on one of his cookies and took another from the basket. He snapped a piece off and held it to Vale’s mouth.

“Open up, handsome.”

Unable to do anything else, Vale did as asked, and Vixen popped the small chunk of cookie into this mouth. The cookie all but melted on his tongue, and he couldn’t help his moan. Catching himself, he gave Vixen an apologetic smile.

“It’s been some time since I’ve indulged.”

The heated look returned to Vixen’s eyes, and he pressed himself up against Vale. “Well, we’ll have to change that.”

To Vale’s relief, Vixen pulled back when they reached the forest. He looked around, curious. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He hoped Vixen liked his surprise. It most likely wouldn’t be anything like what the Christmas elf was expecting, but he hoped Vixen wouldn’t be disappointed. Either way, he’d do his best to sweep the fiery Vixen off his feet and show him that although Vale might not be as adventurous as some toy soldiers, it didn’t mean he had little to offer.

Chapter Three

W
HAT
IN
Kringle Creation was Vale up to?

Vixen stood in the middle of a clearing in the snowy woods with Vale’s basket of treats at his feet. When they’d arrived here—the middle of nowhere—Vale had helped him down from the sleigh, wrapped a blanket around him, and brought down the basket. He carried it while ushering Vixen into the woods. Vixen couldn’t help but feel curious and, admittedly, a little wary. It wasn’t every day someone took him to the woods. Though the snow-covered pine trees painted a pretty picture across the landscape, as did the thick blankets of untouched fallen snow, it was eerily quiet.

“Stand here. Don’t move.” Vale gave him a wink and sprinted off. He came to a stop a few feet away. Vixen watched Vale turn and stand at attention before loosening the buttons of his stiff collar. He removed his pelisse and laid it gently on the snow-covered ground. Once again, he stood at attention, a small, mysterious smile coming onto his handsome face as he started to wave his arms.

Vixen stood stunned as the snow danced and moved around him, swirling and floating in ribbons and curls, whirling in delicate clouds of sparkling white. It took the shape of vines and flowers before freezing over into gleaming branches of intricately carved ice. Vixen couldn’t help his smile as he watched the elf, whose eyes were frosted white, his coal-black hair frosting over similar to the way Jack’s did but only a section on the left side of his head. Vale moved his hands with elegant grace, such as a conductor of a great orchestra might. That was when it struck Vixen. Vale was speaking to the ice and snow as if it were music, his long fingers commanding and instructing. He swept his arms up wide, and the snow burst up on either side of Vixen like waves crashing against a shore. The spectacle was enchanting and enthralling. Vixen had never seen anything like it.

If Vixen listened carefully, he could almost hear a beautiful waltz with sweeping instruments. As Vale picked up his pace, so did the snow around Vixen. It continued to climb and freeze, the ice splintering and chipping away at itself to leave behind detailed designs of reindeer frolicking in the falling snow. It soon became clear to Vixen that Vale was constructing some manner of structure around him. Snow sprang up from the ground in thick columns, twisting and freezing, vines of frozen ivy forming around them. Above his head, a dome ceiling of dazzling ice depicted chiseled images of sleigh rides through the woods, Christmas trees, and baubles.

At waist height, a twisting and smooth banister of ice connected each column around Vixen. It was a gazebo! Vixen looked all around him at the magnificent structure artfully constructed of ice and snow. Icicles hung from the domed ceiling’s edges, glittering and reflecting colors in the sunlight. The ground rumbled beneath him, and he threw an arm out for balance, laughing as the whole thing rose from the ground. A set of wide stairs formed at one end and behind him at the other end, a curved bench formed from the ice. Snow fell from the sky as ice sculptures of polar bears playing and reindeer bucking sprang up around the gazebo. Vixen couldn’t help his gasp as he took it all in. It was truly a work of art. He turned and found Vale standing before him, dressed once again in his pelisse. His hair returned to its natural coal-black state, his eyes sparkling silver. He held his hand out to Vixen.

“May I have this dance?”

“But there’s no music,” Vixen replied breathlessly, allowing Vale to take the fur blanket from him and lay it on the bench.

A mischievous gleam appeared in Vale’s eyes, and he snapped his gloved fingers. The wind picked up, rushing into the forest behind them, and the waltz Vixen could have sworn he’d heard came sweeping through the trees and shrubs, from the violins to the tiny bells.

“How…?” Vixen was stunned.

Vale pulled him close and led him in a marvelous waltz before whispering in his ear, “Magic and the right muse.”

Vixen felt his face heat up at the sweet words spoken with such sincerity. He laid his head against Vale’s shoulder so the lieutenant wouldn’t see him blush. What the holly was happening to him? Vixen had had far more scandalous words uttered to him, and he’d never felt himself blush so profusely. He’d had a lifetime of experience with brash and bold toy soldiers, of flirting and less than reputable nights. None had ever stolen his breath away or made his heart skip a beat. What was it about the unassuming lieutenant?