A Gift For Santa. Beth Carpenter

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СКАЧАТЬ if I was a Vulcan.”

      Predictably, the girls giggled. Dillon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “We just have to lead the reindeer and pull the kids, right? We don’t have to talk to the kids or anything?”

      Hmm. Not the best candidate to embrace the whole Santa Claus persona. Surely Becky could come up with someone better. Marissa gave Dillon an encouraging smile. “Just look friendly and lead the reindeer around the track. Becky will handle getting the kids in and out of the sleds. Okay?”

      Dillon nodded and adjusted Peppermint’s harness. At the other end of the clearing, the snow machine made a second pass along the track, leaving a packed trail with twin grooves in the snow. At least something was going right. Marissa had figured the trucks would just dump the snow, but whoever had hauled it in had taken the trouble to find a cross-country ski groomer and condition the trail. That would make the reindeers’ job, as well as that of the reindeer handlers’, much smoother.

      Marissa walked over to the edge of the oval and waved down the driver. He stopped the snow machine in the shadow of a tall spruce, cut the engine and lifted the helmet from his head.

      She stepped forward. “Thanks for grooming. It looks great. We appreciate the extra effort.”

      “Bo?”

      She froze at the sound of the familiar voice. Great, just great. What were the odds of running into him here? If they had to meet, she would have liked it to be on her own terms, not when she was already frazzled. But it had to be Chris. Nobody else ever called her Bo, short for Rainbow, because he said her smile was like a burst of sunshine after a rainstorm. At least he used to say that, a long time ago.

      She swallowed. “Hello, Chris.”

      “Why are you here?” He stepped out of the shadow. The light from the pole bounced off auburn hair, disheveled from the helmet. His beard was neatly trimmed, not wild and curly the way it tended to be at the end of fishing season, but he still had the same broad shoulders, the same crooked smile. Maybe a few more lines around his eyes. Darned if he didn’t look even better than he had ten years ago.

      “I’m helping with the party.” And that’s all he needed to know.

      “I mean in Alaska. I thought you’d gone for good.”

      She nodded. “This is just temporary. I’m between jobs and Becky needed help for the busy season.”

      Chris studied her face. “I see.”

      He looked as though he did see. Scary thought. The Ponzi scheme Jason had been running was all over the networks, but Chris usually didn’t pay a lot of attention to national news. He wouldn’t know she’d been working at the River Foundation Jason had founded, much less that she and Jason had been dating. At least she hoped not. The fewer people who tied her to Jason, the better.

      “No luck, Marissa,” Becky called as she hurried toward them. When she realized who Marissa was talking to, her face lit up. “Chris!”

      “Becky, how are you?” He opened his arms to hug the small, plump woman. “I thought I’d find you here. Merry Christmas.”

      “Merry Christmas to you. So you trucked in the snow?”

      “Yes. My snowplowing business isn’t doing so well this winter, so I jumped at the chance to earn a little extra hauling it down from the mountains.”

      Becky stepped closer to the track. “It looks great. Where did you get the grooming equipment?”

      “I borrowed it from the Nordic Ski Club. They’re not using it. So, where’s Oliver? I’d like to say hello.”

      Marissa didn’t want to get into explanations. “He couldn’t make it today. He’s not feeling well.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that. It won’t be the same without him playing Santa.”

      “No. In fact...” Marissa could all but see the light bulb go on over Becky’s head as her aunt said, “We’re having a little problem.”

      Marissa gave her own head a brief shake. No, no, no. The last thing she needed was to spend a whole evening with Chris. Not with their history. Even if it meant forcing Dillon into the role. In fact, she’d play Santa herself before she’d let Chris worm his way back into her life.

      He glanced at her in time to see her trying to wave Becky off, and the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled. Uh-oh. She knew that look.

      Her aunt bumbled on, either completely missing Marissa’s signals or ignoring them. “Our substitute Santa backed out at the last minute. It looks like you’re about done with the snow. Would you be willing to fill in for Oliver?”

      Chris raised his eyebrows. “You want me to play Santa?”

      “Chris can’t do Santa.” Marissa tried to keep her voice matter-of-fact. “He doesn’t like children.”

      He frowned at her. “That’s not true. I have nothing against kids.”

      “But you said—”

      He turned to Becky. “I’ll do it. Where do I get a costume?”

      “We’ve got everything you need. Marissa will get you fixed up.” Becky beamed at him. “Thank you, Chris. You’re a lifesaver.”

      “No problem. I just have to finish this pass and send my guys home with the equipment.” He caught Marissa’s eye, and there was a challenge in his gaze. “I’ll be back.”

      She met his stare without blinking. “I’ll be here.”

      * * *

      THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Chris slouched in his chair while Marissa smeared petroleum jelly around the edges of his beard. “Is this really necessary?” he muttered.

      She smirked. “Unless you want white dye all over your skin. Trust me, when I wipe it off, you’ll be glad.”

      “Why can’t I just wear the fake beard, like everyone else?” Sure, Oliver had a real beard, but then his was naturally white.

      “Real is better. We might as well take advantage of yours.”

      “Great.” What had he gotten himself into? He didn’t dislike kids, no matter what Marissa said, although it was true he had little experience with them. But when he’d seen how much she hated the idea of him playing Santa, he couldn’t resist yanking her chain. Besides, Becky was in a bind and he was fond of her and Oliver, in spite of everything. They weren’t the ones who’d dumped him.

      Marissa held a spray can near his face. “Ready?”

      “I guess.”

      “Keep your eyes and mouth closed.” With a hiss of aerosol, she started turning his beard white. A little tickle followed her progress. She paused to shake the can. “Hang on. It’s not easy to cover all these red whiskers.”

      He scowled and looked up at her. “My beard is brown.”

      A hint of amusement glinted from those green-blue eyes of hers, the exact СКАЧАТЬ