The Santa Society (12 page)

These boots rock. I love it. They’d sell like hot cakes in New York.

Hannah is already holding up the cloak for me. I straighten and lower the dress over the boots. When I turn my back to her, she drapes the cloak over my shoulders, handing me the clasp at each side. I hook them together. The “C” is in the hollow of my throat, just above the string of rhinestones, which makes it look underlined.

“I have to call the boss, so he can see. He’ll be so pleased.” Hannah scurries to the speaker.

I hear Reason’s voice. “Dressed?”

“Yes, she is, sir.”

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

Hannah turns and eyes the back of my cloak

“What about a wig?” I watch her in the mirror as she adjusts it.

“Oh, that’s just for stories. The real Mrs. Claus has hair like everybody else.”

“She does?”

“Of course she does.” Hannah steps back.

I look at my mousy hair. Now that it seems there is some sort of authenticity to Mrs. Claus, I feel obligated to figure out how she should wear her hair for such an occasion. Too bad I can’t ask her.

The door opens a crack and Reason sticks his head through. Hannah sneaks out behind him, leaving us alone together. I suddenly feel like a bride, modeling a wedding dress for my future groom. The comparison feels altogether disarming, and I suddenly feel self-conscious about my excitement.

I turn around slowly.

He tugs at his collar, and I wonder if he’s made the same comparison. But a slow smile softens his face. It reminds me of the night he opened his eyes just after the lighting of the Christmas tree in Bethlehem Park. But this smile has something else in it, a new shade of color in the ever-changing sunset of his face.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

“Thank you.” I feel awkward, awkwardly beautiful.

I turn back to the mirror and look at my hair again.

Without a word, he steps in close and I watch him just behind me in the mirror. Seeing him this way makes me feel like I’m watching myself in a movie...and holding my breath, wondering if the romantic hero is about to kiss his costar.

My heart pounds in my ears.

He lifts my hair from my shoulders, twists it carefully, and holds it up against the back of my head. A wisp of it escapes and hangs loosely at the side of my face.

My skin warms beneath his gaze as his eyes slide from my hair to my neck. And then he closes them as he leans down. My every breath feels suspended, hanging on this moment, this question that catches me so completely off guard: Will he kiss me? I close my eyes and turn my face to him, just a little. His breath comes close to my ear. I hear a subtle inhale like he’s breathing me in, then he whispers, “It looks beautiful up, off your neck—like this.”

Chapter 14

I’M STILL NOT over the moment in the dressing room, and I’ve been mentally checked out ever since. I’ve tried to make normal conversation, and I’ve absorbed a few things, like the office is owned by the Santa Society—that same mysterious entity I keep finding associated with everything lately. Hannah and her husband act as the custodians and local overseers of the local office. Other than that, I can’t really focus, except on one thing: Will he drive me out my mind before he finally kisses me? Not that I want to rush things. I’ve never been one to do that. But I can’t take this agony, moment by moment, wondering if I’m the only one getting so swept away. I feel like a blind woman piecing together clues while Reason drives me home to meet Nick, the heating and air guy.

I mull over what I know. Reason’s not known for having a robust dating life, judging from Hannah’s and Rashaun’s surprise about me. And there seems to be some honor, or at least a festive uniqueness, in him asking me to play the part of Mrs. Claus. When I ice skate with him, I can actually skate. He smells amazing—and when he looks in my eyes, I feel like I’m swooning. Before I met Reason, I didn’t really believe in swoons.

He pulls things out of people’s ears, and—oh, he doesn’t want me to move away. And didn’t he say he prayed about it? Lastly, he likes my hair up. After this rapidly compiled list, I’m running out of further evidence to support the idea he’s falling in love with me. My throat tightens. Is that what I’m feeling too? Am I really falling in love?

As we reach my house, where nothing changes unless it gets worse, I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. A couple of days ago, I only wanted to know if he was a friend, not just my realtor. Look how fast I have moved on to more serious expectations.

I survey the cones and caution tape. Obviously, I have some pretty horrible luck. My choices are hit or miss, mostly miss, which means I live with a lot of regret.

Why would I expect my involvement with Reason to be any different? I don’t want to go back to the way I felt before, with nothing in my life but sad memories and a dog who pities me. Right now, I have one really good thing happening to me. If that one thing leaves, would I be able to forget it and just go on like usual? My luck terrifies me, and worse, I know it’s too late to stay uninvolved. I’m way involved, and I know it.

“Is everything okay?” Reason looks concerned as he shifts the truck in park.

“Yes.” I lie, hoping it won’t count.

He nods, but I don’t think he believes me.

All the way to the door, I tell myself what an idiot I’m being for worrying so much. It’s making me act weird. I’ll have plenty of time for that later, when I’m alone. My self-talk continues until I notice a piece of white paper stuck to the door. The bottom edge flaps up and down every time the breeze blows.

“Please don’t tell me I missed the repairman.” I say out loud, rolling my eyes upward in a desperate plea. I’m not sure I even want to read it.

Reason goes ahead of me and plucks it from the door. He doesn’t look at it, though. He only hands it to me with his eyes cast downward respectfully.

Sure enough, it’s labeled
Double-S Heating and Air Service
. A red “Sorry we missed you” has been stamped across the middle, and it’s signed “Nick” in blue ink.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I put my hands to my forehead. “I can’t believe this. It’s only two o’clock.”

I slide my hands over my eyes.

Reason pulls me into his arms, exactly where I have wanted to be, minus this horrible sour feeling inside me. I turn my teary eyes away so he won’t see. If I stay here long enough maybe Nick will come back with his truck and his tools and make the furnace work again.

“It’s okay, Er. We’ll get it figured out. I’ll see if I can get it going, but I warn you, I don’t know much about furnaces.” He strokes my hair.

I nod, my face still hidden in the fabric of his flannel coat. I’ve never been anywhere so safe and strong. Things will be okay. It’s not the end of the world. The fire will keep me warm in the living room. I have a space heater in the bathroom for showering. I have “right now” with this awesome guy. I need to find the happy parts of this story.

I lift my head, and his arms loosen around me. I step back before I speak. “Sorry, I guess I’m just starting to expect everything to go wrong.”

“Including me?” A shadow moves through his eyes.

“No.” I try to smile, but I’ve just lied again. I pull my keys from my pocket and unlock the door. “Okay, that’s not completely true.”

I push the door open, and Klaus comes barreling across the living room, nails sliding sideways. Reason follows me in, and I hear him close the door. Klaus seems torn between which of us he wants to greet first, so he stands between us both, nudging our legs and knocking his tail against the coat rack.

“Hey, it feels warm in here.” He takes off his coat.

I look around as though this might help me feel the temperature in the air. “You’re right.”

I rush to the thermostat. It says 72 degrees.

“Maybe your luck is making a turn for the better.”

I turn. “Maybe it is.” I laugh, but it sounds nervous. I realize how melodramatic I’ve been since we pulled up out front. Nick must’ve fixed it, somehow. Maybe the company has a key to the house. After all, the chimney got serviced and I never knew that, either.

 I glance at the fireplace, feeling disappointed. He won’t need to keep it going for me anymore.

He follows my gaze. “Fires are still very nice, though, aren’t they?” He looks surprisingly coy—a new shade of color to his many facets.

“Yes, very cozy…and romantic.” I can’t believe I said that, but I return his smile, determined to shove the clouds away so the happy stuff stands out.

His grin broadens. “Would you like to come to dinner at my place tonight?”

“But I’ve never visited the Wildlands before. Is it safe?” I tease.

“I’ll protect you. I promise.” He gives me his scouts honor. I have to admit, he’s been very true to his promises.

“I’d love to.”

“Make me a promise too.”

I hesitate at his sudden seriousness. “Okay.”

“Can you promise not to be scared?”

I’m unsure if he refers to tonight, or something else.

“Of me,” he adds. Sometimes it really seems like he hears my thoughts. His reddened cheeks look so earnest and sincere, like he means to protect me from everything, whether we’re in the Wildlands or standing in my living room.

“I promise.”

He exhales, as though he held his breath until I answered. For the first time, I wonder if he’s scared too. Out of the two of us, I’m probably the most risky-looking. I’ve been so busy thinking about what I stand to lose, it hasn’t occurred to me that he might actually be feeling the same risks. Warmth spreads through me. It starts in my chest and moves through my stomach.

“I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Seven is good.”

He turns and stumbles over Klaus as he heads for the door. I think I’ve just seen his nervous side.

Klaus sits between us in the cab of the Dodge. On the hood, the ram’s antlers look like a beacon guiding our way. We pass the “leaving city limits” sign. Snow still covers the highway here, except for the previously traveled ruts from those that have gone before us to the Wildlands.

It’s kind of funny that I’m a native to Christmasville and just now making my first house call to this legendary place. Most people, when they leave town, go the other direction—including me.

I try to peer around Klaus’ rather massive presence, but I barely see Reason’s profile as he drives. It seems fitting that he lives out here. He’s a rustic man, and I’ve seen no place more rustic than this. He’s still such a mystery to me: A guy who looks like he should be fighting bad guys, not playing Santa Claus for all the local children. And yet, I must be re-envisioning Santa because now I think if I were to picture the most perfect guy, one that possesses loads of appeal and old fashioned honor, I could not fathom anyone more suited to the part than Reason MacCloud.

I glance at myself in the side view mirror. I spent an hour trying to pick out what I would wear, which is totally unlike me. I modeled several different outfits for Klaus. He seemed to approve most of the casual look. So I’m wearing a red sweater, blue jeans, and a pair of black boots I brought back from New York.

I have no idea how I’ll manage to style my hair for the parade tomorrow, but today I did something totally out of character: I braided it and wore a pair of small diamond stud earrings that belonged to my mother. If he likes to see my neck, he’s certainly got a view of it tonight.

We pass the old mill and a smattering of mill houses. Soon, the snow covered landscape gives way to fields of nothing but bits of sagebrush peeking through the thick blanket of white. The moon has only just begun to wane. It glows like a giant orb in the sky, illuminating the earth below with an iridescent glow. The stark white snow makes it extra bright.

Up ahead, I see a turn-off with a green “Private Road” sign. We slow to make the turn, and I squint to read the name: Chestnut Lane. I notice right away someone has plowed this road. In the distance, the snow-capped Rocky Mountains reach to the sky, rugged and tall. I have to admit, I missed these mountains. The view out here is way better than in Christmasville, a reminder that Earth is far more majestic than the mundane scenery of daily life. Here in the Wildlands, they stretch as far as I can see and their presence, their proximity to me, makes them seem vivid and alive.

Klaus must feel it too. He grows more excited by the second, trying to crawl across my lap to look through my window. He must weigh a hundred and fifty pounds, I think, as he lowers himself into my lap with his snout pressed against the glass. Reason reaches over the freed up space and takes my hand. I sigh. I love the perfect fit.

We drive about another half-mile, farther and farther into a sea of tall brush on both sides. Just as I wonder if there’s anything else out here, a cluster of tall trees looms into view ahead of us. Then, to my right, an iron archway appears, stretching across a gate covered entrance. I see the name across the top as we turn in: MacCloud. Reason rolls down his window and enters a code into the keypad. The massive gate wrenches open, and we drive through it.

The wild grass is so tall I can’t see much, except for the treetops. Finally, a roof line juts up through the treetops. The moonlight bathes it in silver incandescence. The narrow road must be his driveway because it just stops at a square-ish ending place, in front of a metal building with a garage door. To my right, a cleared path leads farther into his land. I wonder how much acreage this is, because I’m getting the sense I’m somewhere in the middle of enough private land to equal all of Christmasville.

“Do you own all of this?”

“Yes...and no. The Society owns the land, but I built the house.”

“The Society?”

“Right.” He keeps his eyes straight ahead as he puts it in park and turns off the ignition.

“So working for the Society is sort of a lifestyle kind of thing.”

“Exactly.” He nods and changes the subject. “I hope you’re hungry because I cooked way too much food.”

“I’m starved.” I return his smile.

He climbs out and makes his way to my door. I glance at the house, which looks more like a huge cabin. The windows glow yellow in the darkness, beckoning me with warmth. A long covered porch stretches along the entire front of it then turns into a covered walkway connecting the cabin to the garage in front of me. I don’t see any stables or animals yet.