Page 105 of Merry Mended Hearts

With a finger to the side of his nose, the fire burst into life, flickering more orange and wilder than before. Grandpa Harper claimed he saw flames laced with sparkles.

“Whoa!” Grandpa Harper said in amazement.

He’d never been so entranced or so warm. The fire gave off more than heat—it filled the room withmagic. Grandpa Harper had sworn, even in his old age, he could still remember the smell and tingle of it on his skin.

“There now,” St. Nick had said, bending before the young boy. “How is that for warmth?”

“Wonderful,” Grandpa Harper said. “Who are you?”

“I am St. Nicholas.”

“I’m—”

“No need to tell me yours,” St. Nick claimed. “I know. You’re Benjamin Harper.”

Grandpa Harper nodded enthusiastically, wondering who this stranger really was and how he knew his name. Back then, it wasn’t quite so weird for random people to be welcomed into a person’s home, especially if that person needed help.

Which, this far north in Montana, strangers often did. Harper’s Inn—or rather, the Harpers’ home before it became an inn—was the only place around for miles.

“Now, then, Benjamin,” St. Nick said. “I’m only passing through, but I believe I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“I hate when I mess up,” Grandpa Harper said, scrubbing a finger beneath his nose.

The older man’s nose was quite rosy by this point in time. He smiled, though his lips weren’t very visible through his bushy white mustache and beard.

“So do I. I’ve only come to make things right. Tell me, Benjamin. Did you get many presents for Christmas?”

When Grandpa Harper had told the story, he would emphatically frown and exaggerate his facial expressions.

“No, but I’m all right,” the boy said.

“It’s good to keep our promises,” St. Nick said. “I’ve made a stop at every house in the world this year except yours. And I’m afraid my elves have completely run out of gifts. Even the train you asked for. But I promised to deliver, my boy, and deliver I shall.”

That was how I knew as a child that this story was legit. There was no way the stranger could know both Grandpa Harper’s nameandwhat he’d asked Santa for on his Christmas list.

St. Nicholas knelt in front of Grandpa Harper. I would always slide forward, anticipating this most exciting part of his story.

“I’m afraid I have nothing else to give you but this old radio. It isn’t much, but it can still bring you joy. Do you like music, Benjamin?”

“I do!” Grandpa Harper exclaimed.

I could still remember the twinkle in my grandfather’s eyes as he would relay this.

St. Nicholas patted Grandpa’s cheek. He stepped aside and then placed the same hand on the radio.

“This came from my own house. It wasn’t something built in my workshop. This is something I crafted myself, lad. It can play the jolliest tunes. But it can also play tricks.”

“Like magic tricks?” Grandpa Harper asked.

“Something like that,” St. Nicholas said.

After Grandpa thanked him for the gift, St. Nicholas left the way he’d come—through the front door.

Junie had it right: the radio was rumored to have played that first year, and while Grandma Harper and Junie talked about the weddings that followed, I couldn’t remember specifics about the things people claimed had happened.

If only Grandpa Harper was still around to talk to.

The tulle in my arms grew prickly. Shadows cleared from my foggy brain, making me question everything. In that moment, I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore.

---