Sleigh Bell Sweethearts. Teri Wilson
on television. As nonsensical as it sounded, those fantasies usually involved winning an Oscar or a Grammy, and she was wearing an evening gown with sequins and maybe even a train. Never in her wildest dreams did she think the lead story on the local news would feature her escorting a reindeer off an airport runway. It seemed almost as ridiculous a notion as winning Best Supporting Actress or Best Female Vocalist.
Yet, there she was. In living color.
“You look lovely, dear.” Kirimi, Anya’s mother, waved the needle and thread in her hand toward the tiny television on the worktable at the church thrift store.
After the fiasco at the airport, Zoey had sought refuge here. She’d hoped going through boxes of newly donated clothes would take her mind off Palmer, the FAA and her rapidly accumulating debt.
And Alec Wynn.
“You sure do. Look how rosy your cheeks are.” Anya nodded. Even standing side by side, it was difficult to see the resemblance between mother and daughter.
“You’re glowing, Zoey. Glowing.” Kirimi slid her needle into a threadbare mitten. The things she could do with a needle and thread were nothing short of amazing.
Zoey’s skills, on the other hand, were limited to organizing inventory and helping customers. She sometimes wondered if her mother would have taught her to sew, had she lived long enough. Then again, Anya wasn’t exactly a whiz with a sewing machine. Up until the past year or so, she and her mom had had a strained relationship. That was difficult to believe seeing them now, volunteering side by side.
“As much as I appreciate your kind words, you two are nuts.” Zoey couldn’t even look at her onscreen self. “The entire experience was mortifying.”
Except...
There’d been a moment out there on the ice—when Alec had delivered his uncomfortable pep talk—that had been sort of sweet.
Zoey swallowed. He said one nice thing. And he couldn’t even look at you when he said it. Get a grip on yourself.
“We’re just trying to put a positive spin on things.” Anya shrugged. “Besides, you really do look good on TV.”
Zoey forced herself to look at the television. There she was—standing beside Alec, who was dangling a carrot in front of Palmer. The reindeer looked so picturesque, his back lightly dusted with snow. Like something out of a Christmas movie.
Alec didn’t look so bad himself.
Zoey absently folded something. A shirt? A sweater? Who knew? Alec looked absurdly handsome on-screen. Even more so than he did in person. No wonder the televised version of herself was gazing up at him as if he was the best thing to happen to Alaska since the Gold Rush. It was humiliating.
“I’m not glowing,” she protested. “That’s windburn.”
“Sure it is,” Kirimi said with an uncharacteristically saucy grin. “My Anya was right. Your reindeer man is rather dashing.”
Reindeer Man. It sounded like a superhero.
Zoey rolled her eyes. Why was she always comparing Alec to superheroes? “He’s not exactly mine.”
“He works for you, so he sort of is.” Anya winked.
Zoey knew Anya was only teasing, but the thought of anyone owning Alec Wynn was laughable. She wasn’t sure why, but he struck her as the type of man who valued his freedom. Maybe it was the motorcycle.
“Shh.” Anya grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the TV. “They just said your name.”
“The reindeer has been identified as the property of Zoey Hathaway, longtime Aurora resident. Subsequent to the animal’s capture and removal from the airport, chief air-traffic-control officer Chuck Baker announced Ms. Hathaway will be assessed a fine for impeding air traffic and shutting down the airport. The amount of the fine, as determined by the Federal Aviation Administration, is two thousand dollars.”
“What?” Zoey dropped the garment in her hands. A shirt, as it turned out.
“They’re making you pay a fine? That’s hardly fair. It wasn’t your fault,” Anya said. “I object.”
Zoey objected, too. She objected to the fine. She objected to the fact that she had to learn about it on the evening news. She even objected to the wording of the news report.
Subsequent to the animal’s capture? Wasn’t that overly dramatic? There’d been no capture. He’d followed Alec and his carrot all the way back to the ranch. The reporter made it sound as though they’d shot him with a tranquilizer dart or something.
She refolded the shirt and grabbed another item from the cardboard box in the center of the table. Why was she worrying about semantics? She had more pressing problems to worry about right now. Two thousand of them. Three, counting the money she owed Alec.
“Try not to worry, dear.” Kirimi gave her arm a gentle pat. The gesture was so unexpectedly maternal that it made Zoey’s chest ache. “Maybe you can talk to Chuck and he’ll reconsider.”
“It’s not Chuck’s call. The fine is levied by the FAA. There’s nothing more he can do. When I left the airport earlier, he told me he’d talk to them and recommend leniency. I know he did the best he could.” If two thousand dollars was lenient, Zoey didn’t even want to know what was standard.
“That’s a lot of money.” Anya grabbed the remote and turned off the television. The coverage had moved to the weather forecast.
Zoey didn’t need a weatherman to tell her what she already knew—there would be snow. Inches and inches of snow. Par for the course for Alaska. Besides, she suddenly didn’t feel like watching TV anymore.
“Is there anything we can do to help? What are you going to do, dear?” Kirimi asked.
Zoey stared, dazed, at the flannel shirt in her hands. It looked like something Gus would have worn, a thought that made her feel even worse. What could she do? Sell the reindeer? She didn’t think she could. Not after today. But she couldn’t give up her airplane, either.
Surely there was a way to work everything out. Christmas was coming. Her world couldn’t fall to pieces right before Christmas. It just couldn’t. “I’m going to do the only thing I can do. I’m going to pray. Harder than I’ve ever prayed before.”
* * *
Alec stomped the snow from his work boots on the welcome mat and glanced at the modest sign above the shop door. Aurora Community Church Thrift Store. He wasn’t so sure about the church part of the equation. He hadn’t set foot in a church in years. Not since Camille had broken off their engagement.
But this was a store, not a church. And he needed a good pair of work gloves. This seemed as good a place as any, so he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The instant he set foot in the crowded little store, an all-too-familiar, all-too-chipper voice rang out. “Welcome! How can I help you?”
Zoey.
She was everywhere all of a sudden. Just how small was this town? “Hi there, boss.”
“Alec. Oh.” In the split second before she composed herself, she didn’t look any happier to see him than he was to see her. Before he could blink, she pasted a smile on her face. Ever the cheery princess.
Alec couldn’t imagine how exhausting it must be to project such a bouncy, happy image to the world at all times. Just thinking about it made his head hurt. “You work here?”
“Sort of.” She cast a glance over her shoulder, where a couple of other women stood behind a worktable, pretending not to listen if their not-so-subtle grins were any indication. One of them looked familiar.
Alec waved at them. “Ladies.”
They waved back, and he realized that the younger of the two was the woman who’d accompanied Zoey to the ranch earlier.