The Santa Society (26 page)

“It solidified all right.” I squeeze his hand, hoping the battle lines he’s drawn won’t be necessary. But in the end, I believe Reason knows what he’s doing.

Chapter 28

IT’S DUSK WHEN REASON’S MEN file into the dining room for the evening meal. He’s picked this time, just before their meal, to lay out the battle plans. Dex places a kettle of stew in the center of the table. Maybe Reason hopes to say what he needs to say before the bleariness of full bellies loosens their attention spans.

Once everyone’s taken their seats, he begins. “Tomorrow we’ll begin organizing the lists. You’ll probably find more added over the next few days. It’s important to not make any changes or notations, no matter what you see on it. I expect, in a few days, we’ll see the Society reverse its position. Until then, we’ll continue preparing the deer for Christmas Eve. They need their drills and exercises. The gift bags will need to be inspected. All equipment repairs need to happen now.”

A murmur moves around the table. A man with a ponytail speaks up. “What if the Council doesn’t reverse anything? What if the tunnels stay closed? How will there be anything in the bags on the Eve? What will we do then? Re-gift whatever is under the tree with a Sharpie?”

A few men snicker. Even Reason works to control the smile that nudges at the corners of his mouth. “No, Calvin. We won't be re-gifting. We’ll deliver Christmas on the Eve, with or without the Society’s approval.”

A few men at the far end of table guffaw. Another shakes his head and buries his face in his hands. Poor Reason. A few days ago, they put loyalty above everything. Tonight they mock him. When I look at him, I catch the flash of hurt that passes through his eyes.

The mumblings continue and grow louder until finally Dex shouts. “Knock it off, all of you.” His kind face has always had a certain kind of childishness to it, even when he means to be tough. Tonight I see a new firmness in it. “If the Boss says we’ll deliver on the Eve, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Reason doesn’t flinch, despite the obvious disrespect from his men. He gives me a look and a nod toward the door. Understanding what he means, I stand together with him.

A fragment of conversation reaches me. “It's because of Alice.”

“Who’s Alice?”

“Shhhh. The tiger, you idiot.”

I know Reason must hear, but he ignores it. “We’ll prepare for the Eve. I’ve never asked this much trust of you. But on my honor, I promise you I mean what I’ve said. Work begins tomorrow morning.”

We turn and leave behind the group of doubting ranch hands. As we near the door their voices have grown so loud, it makes me wince. I don't want their words to sting the man I love. I walk faster.

He pulls back gently on my hand. “I’m okay. I know they’ll be there—all but four. That's enough for me.”

I wake up the next morning in Reason’s guest room again, but this time to the smell of bacon frying instead of the roar of a tiger. My stomach grumbles as I inhale the delicious aroma, so I grab my change of clothes and start dressing.

I find Reason in the kitchen buttering toast beside two steaming plates of scrambled eggs and bacon.

“Oh, I adore you.” I grin and wrap my arms around him.

He picks me up off my feet and hugs me to him, planting a warm kiss just beneath my right ear. “See, I knew the bacon-smell would get you.”

“Mmm, you’re clever.” I grab a piece of it and take bite, relishing the perfectly fried texture—not too crisp, not too soft. “And practiced. Should I be concerned here? Perhaps I’m only one of a parade of women you’ve been perfecting your bacon frying on.”

He grins as he dishes my plate. “Nope. You’re the only girl I’ve ever made bacon for.”

Soon, I’m too busy enjoying his cooking to even care about sitting down, much less teasing him about his dating history. We eat standing at the kitchen counter, chitchatting about Alice, the cubs, and Klaus’ relentless snoring. Once we’ve cleaned our dishes and taken our showers, we head over to the Sloon with Klaus tagging along.

 As soon as we arrive, Dex emerges from the storage building, hauling sacks. “Morning, Boss. Morning, Ms. Erin.” He smiles with such kindness it makes me want to kiss his leathery cheek. Instead, I give a smile and say, “Morning.”

“Good morning, Dex. How’s morale today?” Reason glances around.

“It’s good, Boss. Real good. Now that Schaefer, Thomas, Jude, and Alex are gone. They left last night. The rest of the crew looks good. It’s actually feeling like Christmas around here.”

They’ll be here…all but four.

A door suddenly bursts opens, and two men step out of the Sloon. They sing together, taking turns with the verses from
It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
as they wander into the corral and disappear inside the stables.

Dex watches them with a smile. “They’re bathing the reindeer. Somebody had the idea to try that peppermint shampoo on ’em.”

Reason looks at me and laughs, “Want to go watch?”

“Of course, I do.” I can’t imagine passing up the opportunity to see a reindeer bath.

We say goodbye to Dex and head for the stables. Inside, I immediately see one of the deer standing in a large concrete stall equipped with a floor drain. Above him, a shower head with a handheld sprayer waits on standby, spewing out a fine mist of water. Three bottles of shampoo sit on a recessed shelf. One man holds the fourth bottle up to the reindeer’s nose, while a second tries to keep the animal steady.

“There you go, buddy, take a whiff o’ that. All the other reindeer are using this stuff. Whadoya think?” He squeezes the bottle to release a puff of peppermint fragrance into its nostril.

The deer stamps a foot and sniffs again. He raises his upper lip so high his nostrils shift out and flare, revealing a large view of his yellowed buck teeth.

“What’s the matter Dancer? You don’t like it?” Reason laughs.

The deer lowers his head and raises it high. Then promptly turns in the stall, so that his rear end faces Reason.

The men erupt in peals of laughter. I’m giggling so hard I think I’ve snorted. Reason turns to me as though he’s offended. “You think that’s funny, do you?”

I nod and continue laughing. The look on his face sends me into hysterics. My sides begin to ache as I gasp for breath.

“That’s it.” He grabs me and lifts me up over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I squeal and swat at his back with my palm.

“Giving you a peppermint bath.”

“You wouldn’t!” I try to gasp, and discover that a gasp is almost impossible upside down. I snort again as my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth partially blocking my airway.

I hear Reason laugh harder as the men cheer him on. He starts walking, and I realize he may be serious. “Reason MacCloud, you put me down right now!”

“I won’t do it.” I hear from above me.

The floor moves underneath my head as I see the shower stalls approaching. But then we pass them. “Where are we going? I don’t need a bath.”

He carries me into a separate room, where sawdust covers the floor. Suddenly, he slides me from his shoulder. As the room reverses into normal position, he sets me on top of a table like a doll. His strength still astounds me. And thankfully, I’m not in a shower stall.

He turns and closes the door. On the other side of it I hear hoots and wolf calls as he faces me and takes a step forward, leaning in just inches from face. His grin looks so uncharacteristically devilish, I shiver.

The hoots and hollers continue outside. Finally, it occurs to me. The men think he brought me in here to ravage me. Heat rises in my cheeks. Then, another thought comes to me—did he?

“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just playing around. They know better.”

I sigh, unsure if I’m relieved or disappointed. “What’s that supposed to mean? Am I not a ravage-able looking woman?”

“Mmm. You are definitely ravage-able.” He leans in for a kiss. His lips graze mine with the velvety wetness of warm butter, lingering just long enough to be more than I can take. Then he pulls back. “But they know I won't ravage you until our wedding night.”

My heart turns a somersault in my chest.

“I wanted to show you something.” He grins, obviously enjoying that I’m melting in front of him.

He turns and tugs at a white sheet covering something tall near the opposite wall. “What do think?”

The cloth falls away, exposing the perfect face of my mother’s angel. The black stains in the enamel have vanished, and the paint shines. Not just on her mouth, but her entire face. She looks brand new. Tears instantly blur my eyes, turning her face into a hazy alabaster silhouette.

“She’s beautiful.” My throat tightens. I blink and the tears spill out so that her face becomes clear again. I touch her singing mouth and run my hand over her cheek.

I turn back to him, overwhelmed and unable to speak. Could I ask for anything more? How surprised my mother would be to see what’s grown from her last wishes—somehow, in some unexplainable way. I throw my arms around him. Like I wanted to do the day he gave Callie the gift card at the soup kitchen. Now, he’s mine, and I love that I can. I kiss him with all the joy that wells in my heart, the longing for him that grows bigger each day.

I have to force myself to pull back, and when I do we only stare at each other with our foreheads pressed together until our breathing steadies and our surroundings creep back into our senses.

“So you like the angel?” He whispers.

“She’s beautiful like the day my dad first gave her to my mom. Thank you.”

The flush in his cheeks deepens. For the first time in years, I feel myself filling with excitement about Christmas.

When we return to the shower room a few seconds later, the men are lathering up Dancer. His rear end still points out of the stall, only now there is a rather large suds sculpture of a Santa Claus beard hanging on his rump.

Chapter 29

REASON CARRIES OUT THE LAST box of clothing. The top hasn't been taped yet, and I see the sleeve of my mother’s red wool coat peeking through the opening as it disappears out the door.

Things at the ranch have been running smoothly. So well, in fact, that Reason took the day off to help me clean up the mess Brice left when he ransacked my house. Once we got started, though, I decided it was a good time to get rid of some things too. I’ve managed to part with a lot more of my mother’s things than I expected. Although I cried at first, I have to admit I feel a weight lifted from me. It’ll be easier to remember her being alive without so many personal items to remind me she won’t ever use them again.

I’ve put all the photos and keepsakes in storage boxes in the attic. Everything else I’m donating, except her Bible, Christmas books, and knitting projects. I plan to finish the latter just as soon as I learn to knit. I’ve even gone through the Christmas room, only keeping things that have special meaning to me. The rest have all been loaded in Reason’s truck. But I know I don't want her things sold, I want them given to people who need them.

Reason steps back through the door.

I look up at him from the china hutch drawer, where I’ve just found an extra pair of glasses. “So…where do you want to take everything?”

“I thought we could take it to Hannah. She keeps a list of local contacts for stuff like this—shelters and ministries.” He smiles, but I notice his shoulders slouch as he moves toward the sofa.

“Okay, good.” I rummage in the drawer and pull out a few more things: an old cell phone, a pair of gloves, and a rosary. I’ll definitely keep the rosary, but I drop the other things in a bag.

My thoughts stray. I steal a peek at Reason. He’s closed his eyes with his head leaned back. I lay the bag on the hutch and walk over to sit beside him. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t open his eyes at first. “Yeah,” he pauses and lifts his head to look at me. “I’m just thinking about Hannah and Ives and the others. If Cassius doesn’t fix this—if I carry Christmas on my own—I don’t know, I just don’t know.”

I study the shadows of worry in his face. Through everything, he’s been the one who’s always managed to believe everything will be okay. Seeing him falter unsettles me. “You’re worried about what will happen to them if the Society falls apart?”

“I thought how sad it will be to not have Hannah and Ives anymore. What if there’s something I’m not seeing? Saving this Christmas seems like the right thing to do, but how many people will it hurt? ”

I take his hand as I scoot in next to him. He tries to smile, but I can see it’s an effort.

“Reason, you always tell me the Gift knows what people need, that you just have to believe and seek what’s right.”

He doesn’t answer right away. The hesitation makes me uneasy. “What if my reasons aren’t all pure? I keep thinking about that.
I
think they are, but what if I’m too subjective. In the end I’m only a man. I can get it wrong.”

I’m not sure if I want to hear these things. I want to comfort him, but I admit the whole I’m-not-so-sure-thing throws me off balance. I’ve relied on him so much, his strength, his vision, and his faith. The thought that he could doubt it himself sends a shiver through me. I’m not even sure what to say, but I sense he needs me right now. I push forward, trying to trust that my words will come out right.

“As your wise woman, I must remind you, Reason MacCloud, that you are Father Christmas. You have a duty to carry the Gift, whatever the price. An infant came into the world with the exact same mission.
He fulfilled it
. As a descendent of the men who first honored him, it’s your duty to remember that…and every year to carry the message of his birth by reminding the world of his miracles.”

He sits up straight, looking at me as though I’ve grown another head.

“Did I say something wrong?” I think back through my words.

He shakes his head rapidly. I think his face has even paled.

“Then what’s wrong?” I insist.

“Your words just now... It’s my oath to the Office—word for word.” He blinks at me with wonder and begins to recite: “It is my duty to carry the Gift to the world, whatever the price. I do so in remembrance of the infant Christ who carried upon his tiny shoulders a staggering mission for one so small. As a descendant of the wise men of old who came bearing gifts to welcome his light into the world, it is my duty in all that I do, to celebrate the message of his birth by reminding the world of his miracle of faith.”