Rabbit Creek Santa (3 page)

"Will you mind, Joe?" she whispered as she fingered the ornaments in the box. "He seems like a nice man
and he's only trying to be kind. Joey likes him. He says Joey should have a tree and he's probably right. It's time."

When she
first saw him at the door, she thought he was some drunken partygoer with the Santa hat sitting whopperjawed on his head and the white wig sticking out all over the place. The beard's hook had come loose from over his ear, so the mustache hung at the side of his nose. No wonder Joey cried!

When he came back in without
the costume, her heart skipped a beat and then made up for it in double time. Even her wolf, who'd been pretty much asleep for the last two years, sat up and took notice. Joey wasn't the only one who liked him.

She pulled another box from the closet and, piling one on top of the other, carried them to the living room
where Joey leaned against the sofa holding his truck to his chest. His eyes closed and then fluttered open, fighting sleep. It was way past the poor little fella's bedtime.

"Come on, sugar, it
's time to go night-night."

When his diaper was changed and he was wearing his footed pajamas, she placed him in his crib, leaning down to give him a kiss.

"Piyo?" he asked sleepily.

"You can play with the pillow tomorrow," she whispered as she gently traded the truck for a
cuddly bear. "Good night, little wolver, and sweet dreams."

"Piyo
," Joey whispered as he drifted off to sleep.

Lindy stopped in the bathroom and washed her face with cold water, mortified by the tear stains
she saw there. What must Travis think of her, crying on Christmas Eve? She ran her fingers through her unruly curls in an attempt to bring some order to the mess. It was a useless attempt.

No matter what she used
; clips, barrettes, or elastic bands, the ringlets covering her head always escaped from their moorings and went their own way. Not that it mattered. The face looking back at her from the mirror was pale and drawn and it was beyond her meager skill with make-up to fix it. She shrugged and went to the kitchen to see what she had to offer her guest.

Going to the refrigerator, she pulled out the gallon of milk she'd purchased the day before. She could make hot chocolate, but had nothing to go with it. She rarely thought of sweets and Joey was still happy with a handful of dry cereal on his tray, but it was Christmas and one of her fondest memories was coming home from school and smelling the treats that were baking in her mother's oven.

"They're for Christmas," her mother would warn, but Lindy and her brother always managed to beg a few, warm from the oven.

On a cold winter night, there was nothing like hot chocolate and cookies warm from the oven
. It wasn't like she'd be making them for Travis. The cookies would be for Joey. It was time she started building some Christmas memories for him, too.

Sugar cookies were fast and easy. She pulled out the cookbook, gathered the ingredients and had the first batch
in the oven in no time at all. While she for the timer to ding, she went to check on Travis.

Peeking out the window,
all she could see was snow. There was no sign of him, though his footprints were clear. It didn't matter where he came from, he was going to be cold when he came home from his hunt for a tree. Home?

"Holy shi… smokes," she said aloud, remembering her vow to clean up her language now that Joey was
picking up words, "Where did that come from?"

Her wolf was wagging her tail and stamping her front paws.

"Stop it," Lindy told her. She didn't have to speak aloud to her inner wolf, but she wanted to make sure her human heard it loud and clear, too. "He seems like a nice guy, okay? And yeah, he's good looking enough to knock your socks off, but that's the point, isn't it? Guys like that don't look twice at this." She ran her hands over her faded sweatshirt and jeans.

Mate and Alpha stood on their porch looking out onto the winter wonderland that was once their yard. The snow had already covered Travis' tire tracks and Marshall's footprints from house to barn were mere dents in the white blanket, identifiable only by their regular spacing. The worst was over and the light flurry that now sprinkled the earth added to the Christmas card look of the scene.

The air felt warmer, but only by a little and Elizabeth shivered and pulled the afghan tighter around her shoulders and snuggled closer to Marshall, waiting.

"Are you sure about this, Lizzie?" Marshall asked quietly as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment.

Elizabeth knew he was asking about her ability as Mate to feel the emotions of her pack. She smiled sadly.

"It's not hard to pick out the lonely hearts on Christmas Eve."

Marshall sighed. "I'm still not sure this is a good idea. You know I don't hold with matchmaking."

"Why?" she laughed softly, "Because it turned out so badly for us? The whole town conspired to bring us together. This is only you and me, and it's not matchmaking. It's providing an opportunity and letting nature take its course."

"It's matchmaking," he said firmly, but he was smiling down at her when he said it. "What if it doesn't work?"

"Then it doesn't work and no harm done. Lindy hasn't run as a wolf since Joe died. Last year, we all understood. Joey was still new and the wound from Joe's death was still open, but she didn't run this year at the Hunter's moon when every young woman should and she's refused all invitations in between. She needs to run, Marshall. She needs to be free, to let her troubles go for just a little while. She needs to feel young again." She smiled up at her mate and shrugged. "And she shouldn't run alone."

"
And you think he's the one to run with her?" he asked, his eyes twinkling down at her.

It was more than a simple question about running through the woods and she knew it.

"I think he's a good man and he won't toy with her heart. As lonely as he is, he won't use her. That's why he trolls the bars for one night stands. He doesn't want to break someone's heart."

"How did you know about him trolling bars?" Marshall asked. She wasn't one for gossip.

Elizabeth giggled. "I'm the Mate. All gossip comes to me," she answered as if she'd read his mind. "That doesn't mean I repeat it."

And then she raised her index finger asking him to hold his comment. Her chin came up and her eyes closed.

"It's working," she whispered.

*****

Travis sawed down the spruce that was standing too close to the drive and then used the hatchet to chop the stump down to ground level. Hauling the tree back to the house, he stopped at the edge of the yard to get a better view. The house was tall and narrow, two rooms up - no, three. Lindy said she had a spare, and two rooms down, with a covered porch running the width of the front. The roof didn't sag and the wooden porch looked firm. The house looked sturdy enough, but if she heated the place with the small wood stove he'd seen in the front room, the upstairs would be cold on a night like tonight.

Thinking of the stove, he checked the stack of wood on her porch and thought it looked low. He knocked the last of the snow off the tree and propped it against the house and then went looking for her woodpile. When he came back, Lindy was standing on the porch with her arms wrapped tight around her middle.

"Get back in the house," he told her, "You'll freeze to death without a coat on."

"I was thinking the same about you," she said.

"Nah." Travis plucked the sleeve of his coat. "My Mama didn't raise no fool," he laughed. "I had it in the truck. Where's your ax?"

"Ax?" She looked at her meager woodpile. "Oh! Oh, it'll be fine. I was going to bring some up tomorrow."

"And who's going to split it for you?"

"GW does when he has time. Otherwise
, I do it myself. It's okay, really."

GW? Travis didn't know anyone by that name, but he hadn't been around long enough to meet all the members of the pack. Was this GW
making time with the little widow? And if he was, why wasn't he keeping her wood supply up? And why wasn't he here on Christmas Eve? Or was that why she was crying earlier?

It didn't matter
who this GW was. He wasn't here. Travis was and the woodpile needed replenishing and the tree needed trimming.

"Where's your ax?" he asked again in a voice that was a little firmer than he meant it to be. She told him where to find it and he shooed her into the house. "Go on, now. Get inside. Won't take but a few minutes."

Thinking about GW made the wood splitting go much faster, the force of his blows spurred on by his thoughts. What kind of guy would leave his girl alone on Christmas Eve, particularly one as sweet as this one? She needed someone who would look out for her, not someone who'd drop by 'when he had time'. With a girl like Lindy, you made time. It did cross Travis' mind to wonder what this GW would think about another wolver moving into his territory.

His wolf provided the answer with a snarl.

"Ayup," Travis agreed aloud. "That's just too damn bad for GW. If he cared about her like he ought to, he would be here."

The thought made him pause. Why did it matter? It wasn't like he was planning to move in. Shit, he just met the girl. He wasn't looking for a mate. Maybe Lindy wasn't looking for one either. That thought bothered him more than GW.

In spite of what he'd said about being from New Hampshire, by the time he got back to the house, he was cold. He must have looked it, too. He no sooner had his coat off than Lindy was there, covering his cold ears with her warm hands.

"You should have a hat on," she scolded.

She was probably right, but at that moment, Travis didn't care. Those small hands cupping his ears made him warm all over. She was looking at him with real concern, which just went to prove she really was sweet. He put his hands at her waist, thinking she was just the right height to hold her this way, and smiled down at her.

"They aren't going to fall off, you know," he said of his ears.

Lindy looked up when he spoke and their eyes locked. He couldn't blink or look away. He simply stared into those big brown eyes. God, they were beautiful. They were even prettier now that the red had gone away. A man could spend a lifetime looking into those eyes and discovering what secrets lay behind them. Her lips parted just enough to catch her breath or to invite a kiss. Travis' hands tightened at her waist. Lindy jumped and stepped back. The spell was broken.

"I-I made cookies," she stuttered, taking those warm hands from his ears and moving toward the kitchen, "And hot chocolate."

It wasn't how he planned to spend his Christmas Eve, drinking cocoa and eating cookies, but at that moment, Travis couldn't think of any place he'd rather be.

Lindy hoped the flush would clear from her face before she had to turn and face him. She took her time taking the last batch of cookies from the oven thinking the heat from the open door would excuse her red cheeks. What must he think of her? Poor lonely widow ready to throw herself at the first unattached wolf who walked in her door?

She wasn't like that. She wasn't! She hadn't thought of another man since Joe died. Several single
wolvers stopped by her desk pretty regularly to ask about this or that. She knew why they came, but she never gave them any encouragement. She never let them see how lonely she was.

It was Christmas
, and the loneliness always hit harder at the holidays. Peering up into those dark grey eyes with the tiny crinkles at the corners reminded her of what it was once like to be looked at like that. Seeing his tongue moisten his lips reminded her of what it was like to be kissed. She'd wanted him to kiss her. Thank heavens she'd pulled back in time.

She slid the cookies right onto the plate and added some more from the brown
paper that was spread over the short run of counter.

"You were gone so long, I made two batches." She laughed self-consciously. "Oatmeal and sugar. Not very Christmasy,
but it was the best I could do."

"Oatmeal have raisins?"

"Half and half." She'd debated whether to add them or not. "Just in case."

He smiled at that. "Which kind do you like best?" he asked, watching her closely.

"Raisin?" she answered tentatively.

"That's too bad," he said. His face fell into a frown and he nodded sadly.

"Why?" she asked, though she didn't see what difference it made.

"Because now I'll have to wrassle you for them," he said seriously, "and if I lose, I'll have to eat the plain ones." He watched her, waiting for her reaction.

Lindy pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh. Wise guy. "It won't be so bad," she answered just as seriously. "I'm generous. I'll let you have two, one for each hand." She turned to pour the hot chocolate from the pan on the stove and when she turned back, he was grinning.

"That's a better deal than Kathy ever gave me."

Kathy? He had a girlfriend? A mate?

His grin widened. "My sister. She used to say that all the time. Last apple, last pork chop, last cookie. Wrassle you for it. She used to kick my ass." He
chose a cookie from the plate and took a small bite, chewed, swallowed, smiled and took a bigger bite. "Good," he said.

"Your sister could beat your butt." He was a big guy. How big was his sister or was he joking again.

"Hell yeah. She was two years older than me. Then when I was around thirteen, I finally pinned her and what happens? My mother yells at me! Shame on you, she says. A boy your size picking on a girl. Wait till your father gets home." He shook his head at the injustice and snagged another cookie.

"What did your father say?" Lindy
had to ask.

Travis deepened his voice. "Let this be a lesson to you, son. When it comes to women, you just can't win."

Lindy laughed and forgot her earlier embarrassment. "Any other abusive siblings?"

While they finished their hot chocolate and cookies and righted the tree in its stand, he told her about his younger sister and his parents and all his nieces and nephews. She told him about her family while they strung the lights.

"Did you ever think about leaving? About moving back to be near your folks?"

She knew what he was asking. He meant after Joe died. She shook her head.

"Rabbit Creek was Joe's pack and when we mated, I made it mine. I stand for my pack. They stand for me."

And they had stood for her. She
'd been a member for less than a year when Joe died. Her folks came and spent two weeks, all they could spare from their jobs, and she was glad when they left. She knew they meant well, but she couldn't stand her mother's hovering or the look of pity in her father's eyes. Lindy cried for three days after they left because she couldn't cry while they were there. Her pain would be their pain and she couldn't do that to them.

It was the Mate, Elizabeth, who shared her pain, Elizabeth who held her and sometimes cried with her and kept the tissues coming.

At the end of those three days, it was Elizabeth who said, "Enough. This can't be good for your baby."

Lindy hadn't told anyone about the pregnancy, not even her mother.
"How? How could you know?"

Elizabeth had laughed. "I'm the Mate. I'm supposed to know everything or so they tell me."

After that, the pack moved in. Maggie Cramer showed up with enough venison and rabbit to fill her freezer. Maggie's mate, Roy, kept her in fish. Max brought her a stack of mother and baby books and laughingly told her she wouldn't learn much, but they made for interesting reading. Ma Gruver showed up with herbal concoctions that she didn't touch until Maggie told her Ma had been dosing pregnant women for half a century and they hadn't lost one yet.

They didn't hover. They didn't look at her with pity.
They were there when she needed them and left her alone when she didn't. They stood for her and Joey and helped her move on.

Her wolf quietly wagged her tail in agreement.

Travis' hand was on her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded and smiled, "I think I am." She could finally remember that time without tears.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said softly.

"You didn't," she told him and meant it. "I was just remembering."

Lindy opened the cardboard box and started to unwrap the ornaments she hadn't looked at since the Christmas before Joe died.