Rabbit Creek Santa Read online

  Clamping his mouth shut on all the other words he was about to say, he reminded himself that this was for a widow and her pup though he still didn't see why he had to wear the damned getup. Knock on the door, hand her the bag and say Merry Christmas. That's all there was to it. He could do that wearing jeans and a parka. He yanked open the door.

  The breeze that entered the cab with him was enough to set the wooden Christmas tree that hung from his rearview mirror spinning lazily from its fishing line hanger. It was his first attempt at carving and it wasn't very good. A carver at the woodworks had showed him how and loaned him the tools. The branches were nicked and the star was crooked, but at least he had a tree to remind him of home.

  The twirling tree made him think of his sister's pups and how excited they were on Christmas morning, shouting "Santa came! Santa came!" in surprise, as if the old elf hadn't shown up every other year of their lives. It was easy to forget that for some pups, Santa didn't come every year and a pup without a father, well… Maybe the Mate knew what she was about.

  Determined to give the pup a good show, Travis bounded up the steps and banged on the door. Only a few seconds had passed before the curtain was pushed back and he was confronted with a pair of the prettiest brown eyes he'd ever seen. They were big and round and framed with thick, dark, lashes. Those eyes would have been perfect if they weren't rimmed with red, and the lashes weren't clumped with tears. Travis felt something squeeze inside his chest.

  He tried to smile though she probably couldn't see it through the damned beard.

  "Merry Christmas," he said weakly.

  The eyes blinked; once, twice, and then they disappeared, and the curtain fell into place. The door opened a crack and a face peered out.

  "Do I know you?" she asked.

  Travis' mother always bought Christmas cards with angels on the front. The angels always had round, girlish faces with round, rosy cheeks and big round sparkling eyes. He remembered him and his sisters teasing her about it and asking why she never chose cards with angels who looked like them.

  "Because you're no angels," his mother laughed. "These…" She tapped the cards. "…were what I asked for. You, were what I got."

  "No one gets angels who look like that," they'd laughed back. "They aren't real."

  This creature was living proof that he and his sisters were wrong. Someone else had gotten the angel his mother asked for. She was standing right in front of him, raising her eyebrows and waiting for him to speak.

  "Oh, um, the Al…"he began in his normal voice until he saw the pup sitting in the middle of the floor with his thumb in his mouth. He deepened his tone to Santa level.

  "No ma'am, I don't think you do, but the Mate said there was a little fella up here who didn't have a chimney, so I thought it best to knock."

  "Oh." She opened the door fully and stepped back to allow him to enter which he did with a hearty "Ho, ho, ho!" and bent to smile at the little boy with a baby's version of his mother's face.

  The boy's eyes got wide. The sucking mouth released the thumb and he raised his arms to his mother and… screamed.

  "Well that was a bust," Travis mumbled to himself as he stepped aside to make room for Mama to bend and pick her baby up.

  "It's all right, honey. That's Santa," she soothed, but it did no good.

  The pup sobbed into his mother's shoulder and when she encouraged him to take a second look, he screamed again.

  "Maybe it's the hair," the woman said, "It does look a little scary."

  Travis yanked the hat from his head and the hair came with it. The pup screamed louder.

  "Oh, shit!" he hissed and then covered his mouth. "Sorry."

  His curse brought a tiny smile to her lips, but the tip of her tongue came out and licked it away. Damn, but that tiny tip of tongue was enticing. If he was smart, he would have dropped the bag and run for the door. He knew right then this woman was going to be trouble, but he wanted to see that smile again. He lifted his finger.

  "I'll be right back."

  Out on the porch, he stripped off the Santa suit, cursing a few time as he tried to extricate his foot from the pants. He rolled coat and trousers into a ball with hat, hair, and beard tucked in the middle and dropped it beside the door. The pillow, he could do nothing about. Marshall had used enough duct tape to make it all but indestructible. He stuck his head back in the door.

  "I've got a problem," he said.

  She stared at him for a moment as if she didn't know who he was and then she closed her eyes before she took a deep breath and spoke.

  "You do have clothes on, right?"

  "Oh. Oh, yeah, fully dressed, but I've got this extra around my middle." He stuck his arm through the crack in the door and pointed down and back. "I don't want to scare the pup again."

  She leaned back to see where he was pointing and there was that ghost of a smile again and the tip of the tongue wiping it away.

  "Come in, you're letting the heat out."

  "Are you sure?"

  She nodded and when he came back in she handed him the baby. "Say hello. I'll be right back."

  She left him there holding the child that a moment before had been screaming at the sight of him.

  Travis held the boy under the armpits a foot in front of him, feet dangling.

  "Uh, hey, pal."

  The boy looked at him solemnly and then looked down.

  "Piyo," he said.

  Piyo?

  "Piyo," the boy said again and reached for the pillow strapped to his waist.

  "Oh, yeah, pillow." He brought him closer and balanced his diapered rear end on the pillow.

  "Piyo." This time when the pup said it, he smiled.

  "Pillow." Travis said it slowly and clearly as the Mate had done. That was how his sisters did it, too.

  "Piyo!" The child laughed. He thought it was a game.

  "Pillow," Travis said, laughing himself.

  By the time the woman came back with a pair of scissors in her hand, he was hoisting the giggling child high in the air and bringing him down to land on the pillow.

  "Piyo!" the pup squealed every time he landed.

  "I see you made friends," she said and this time the ghost of a smile became real.

  Travis thought his heart stopped and for the first time ever; he felt his wolf react to a woman, too. The damn thing was wagging his tail.

  "As long as I keep tossing, he keeps laughing." He grinned at her and then tossed the pup again, "Right pal?"

  "Piyo!"

  He held out his hand. "Travis Pike."

  "Ah," she said, nodding her head in recognition. "The new guy at the Mill. You're the guy who's going to keep the place running now that old Gus is gone."

  "Yeah," he said, surprised. "How'd you know?"

  The machinery at the Rabbit Creek Mill and Woodworks was old, some still run by foot power and there weren't many men around anymore who could keep them running. Travis' grandfather had a thing for old machinery and taught Travis everything he knew.

  "I write your checks," she said, "but I don't sign them. I'm payroll. Lindy." She held out her hand to shake and blushed when she realized the scissors were still in it. She turned her attention to the tape. "Your partner there is Joey."

  Travis looked around the room to take his mind off the pretty woman fiddling with the tape at his waist.

  It was a nice room, not fancy, but comfy looking. Bookcases formed one corner, but only one shelf held books; the kind you read to babies and toddlers. The rest of the shelves held toys. There was a small wood stove in the other corner and a stand under the windows held an older model television. In addition to the sofa an upholstered rocking chair and a couple of end tables filled in the rest. Replace the old TV, and it was the kind of room where a guy could put his feet up, relax, and have a beer.

  "Where's your tree?" he asked casually, thinking it must be in another room though the house was small and couldn't have that many rooms.

  She stood with the pillow in her han
d and straightened her shoulders. "I didn't think we needed one this year," she said quietly, but she didn't look at him.

  There was something odd about the way she said it. Maybe there was no one to cut one for her. He thought about the bag of toys by the door. There ought to be a tree to put them under.

  "You got any decorations? From other years, I mean."

  "In the closet in the spare room," she answered just as quietly as before.

  "Good. Go get them. I'll go get the tree."

  "B-but you can't. It's, it's snowing and it's cold. You don't have a coat. Where are you going to find a tree at this hour?"

  "I'm from New Hampshire. This isn't cold. You let me worry about the tree. You get the decorations."

  "But…"

  "Joey should have a tree," Travis said decisively, "Isn't that right, Joey?"

  "Piyo!"

  "See?" Travis kissed the boy's nose before setting him back on the rug in front of the sofa. He handed the freed pillow to the pup. "Joey agrees with me."

  "But…"

  Travis didn't give her a chance to disagree. "Be right back," he said on his way out the door.

  He pulled his shirt and parka from the cab and found his saw and hatchet in the big toolbox fastened in the bed. He knew exactly where he'd find a tree.

  *****

  "You got any decorations? From other years, I mean."

  No, she didn't have decorations from other years. They were from one year, her first Christmas with Joe.

  "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.

  Chapter 3

  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 bette
r 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.