A Gift For Santa. Beth Carpenter

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СКАЧАТЬ cut his last two guys. They’d both been with him almost from the beginning. Besides, he was under contract to clear parking lots for several businesses, and if the weather ever turned, he’d need them. And he sure wasn’t about to let anybody go this close to Christmas.

      He got up from the desk and stared into the warehouse. Six trucks sat idle. He’d started with one pickup and a plow, clearing driveways, a few months after he and Marissa began dating. Before that, he’d fished in the summer and spent the winters skiing and riding his snow machine, but being with Marissa had made him think of things like down payments and IRAs. Besides, Marissa was uncomfortable with a high play/work ratio, and at that time he’d been willing to jump through fire if it meant she’d stick around.

      Marissa was a grad student then, going to school in Fairbanks while Chris got this business off the ground in Anchorage. Their relationship consisted of snatched weekends and holidays, interludes of sweetness that always left him wishing for more. Maybe if they’d lived in the same town he’d have realized before he asked her to marry him just how unsuited they really were. After all, she had a master’s degree in wildlife biology; he was a college dropout who fished and plowed snow. Although her parents had died when she was small, Marissa grew up as part of a loving family. Chris was lucky to get the occasional pat on the head from his father, and his mom hardly noticed him. But he and Marissa were happy together, and their differences didn’t seem to matter. Until they did.

      What was she doing back in Alaska? Was something going on with Oliver and Becky? Marissa had said she was between jobs, but knowing her work ethic, it was unlikely she would leave one position before she’d lined up another. Before she’d even finished her degree, she’d landed several job offers from all over the country. Hard to imagine an experienced wildlife biologist would resort to working as an elf, even if it was the family business.

      Of course, he’d resorted to a job as Santa Claus. It was mostly as a favor to Becky, but looking at the weather forecast, he figured a little extra income wouldn’t hurt.

      Chris sighed and returned to his desk. He transferred the money into the checking account and printed the payroll checks. They were sliding out of the printer when the office door opened.

      “Hey, we got all the plows waxed.” Brad, his most senior employee, sauntered in. “Kenny’s putting the stuff away.”

      “Good. Thanks.” All the equipment had been waxed back in May before it went into storage, but since he was paying the guys, he might as well give them something to do. “Hang on a minute. I have your check ready.” Chris signed it, then handed it to him. “Don’t cash it until tomorrow, though. I just put in a transfer but it won’t go through until tonight.”

      “No problem.” Brad tucked the check into his wallet and looked up at the ceiling. “That bulb is flickering.”

      “Yeah, I know.”

      “Want me to change it for you?”

      “Sure—” Chris stood and stretched “—but do it tomorrow. No need to stick around any longer today.”

      Brad shifted his weight to his other foot. “Actually, I might not come in tomorrow.”

      Chris looked at him. “Why not? You getting sick?”

      “My brother-in-law has this business going, hanging Christmas lights. He wants me to run the cherry picker. And I figured since you don’t really need me around here anyway...”

      “I don’t care if you take some time, but you are coming back, right?”

      “Well, sure. I’ll be back after Christmas.”

      “Okay.” Chris shook his hand. “Sorry I can’t do a Christmas bonus this year.”

      Brad shrugged. “Weather’s a killer. Merry Christmas, dude.”

      Chris laughed. “Yeah. Merry Christmas.” He watched Brad walk away before grabbing Kenny’s check and flipping off the office lights. He’d replace that bulb tomorrow. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do.

      * * *

      MARISSA TOSSED A bale of hay onto the rack. The reindeer crowded past her to the food, two yearling bulls tossing their short antlers with the kind of attitude usually seen on high school basketball courts. The older bull, Blizzard, had already shed his impressive antlers, but the cows would hold on to theirs for another few months.

      One of the cows, Snowflake, stopped to nuzzle Marissa’s hand. She still remembered. Marissa pulled out a piece of carrot she’d hidden in her pocket just for the old girl, a tradition of theirs since Snowflake was a calf. In fact, Marissa had been there at her birth. Hard to believe it was almost twelve years ago. Chris had been there, too. He’d come by to take her out to dinner when Oliver announced Muff was about to give birth. Neither of them could bear to leave until Snowflake had arrived and was on her feet and nursing.

      Many of the reindeer pulling hay from the feeder had been born since the last time Marissa visited Alaska. She’d been away too long. Becky took good care of the animals, but the farm, always so crisp and kempt, showed signs of neglect. Rusty hinges, broken boards, peeling paint... Even the sign at the road had faded. Oliver must have been losing ground for a lot longer than Marissa had realized. But it was easier to have him and Becky visit her than to come back to Alaska on her limited vacation time. And if she were honest, she was also afraid she would run into Chris.

      Now she had, and it wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it would be. Same old Chris, eager to pitch in, as long as you didn’t try to tie him down. Never with one woman too long, judging from what she’d gleaned from social media. Chris’s own page hadn’t been updated since she’d set it up for him back when they were dating, but he was always being tagged in pictures, usually by some blonde bragging about the “real Alaska man” who made her vacation the “best ever.” Not that Marissa was stalking him or anything. In fact, Chris barely even crossed her mind anymore. She just happened to stumble across the photos now and then when looking up other old friends from Alaska. At least that was her story, should anyone ask.

      Across the pasture, Oliver’s old truck bounced up the lane. Good, they were back from the doctor’s appointment. Marissa had been home for a little over a week, but Oliver and Becky had been very closemouthed about his health status. Hopefully, the doctor had suggested a different prescription or treatment—something to help Oliver’s heart and build up his strength—because the current medicine didn’t seem to be working.

      The truck circled behind the old farmhouse, which could definitely use a coat of paint. Even from where she stood, Marissa could detect spots where the white paint had flaked off, exposing the weathered wood siding. It was one of those sprawling houses built in stages. Wood-frame additions had grown up and out from the original two-room log cabin as the homesteaders added rooms to accommodate their eight children.

      Even though Oliver and Becky had closed off a whole wing and added insulation, Marissa suspected the fuel bill to run the main boiler must be enormous.

      After checking to make sure the heater was keeping the water trough clear for the reindeer, Marissa made her way home.

      She stepped over the broken front step and onto the porch, noticing as she opened the front door that one of the small panes in it had a crack in the corner, temporarily mended with duct tape.

      In the living room, Oliver lay back in his recliner, his face paler than ever. But he greeted her with a smile. “There’s my girl. How’s the herd?”

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