Page 4 of Blame It On The Reindeer

Four

Brody

Istood at the fence, examining the damage to the posts that needed to be fixed. My grandfather had mentioned that he needed to redo it, he just hadn’t gotten around to it before he got sick. After that, his body never recovered to what it was before, which left him unable to do a lot of the stuff he needed to.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and added a quick note of what I needed to grab at the hardware store. For now, the reindeer were secure in their pen, but one good gust of wind would be all it took to dismantle everything. And according to the news this morning, we were expecting to get a nasty storm rolling in this week.

The temperature outside had already dropped dramatically, reminding me of Christmases spent at the ranch with my grandfather growing up. It was bittersweet to be back here without him. The pain of losing him was more than I expected, but the regrets of not coming back sooner and spending his last days with him were what really ate at me.

I couldn’t undo the past, but I could honor him by taking care of what he left to me. The ranch was his pride and joy, and I took comfort in knowing that he trusted me to continue his legacy. Even if I felt like I had no idea what his intentions were with letting that crazy woman use the reindeer for some snowman festival.

After checking the gate, I secured the latch on it and gave it a quick shake to make sure it wouldn’t open while I was gone. Thelast thing I needed was to come back to the reindeer making a run for it. I wasn’t planning to be gone long, but I learned early on that if you were making a stop in town, you got everything while you were there to save you from having to go back. It was only a thirty-minute drive into town, which wasn’t bad. It was having to talk to people that made my skin crawl.

BY THE TIME I GOT BACKfrom running errands in town my jaw was locked from how tightly I clenched it as I tried to power through everyone wanting to talk to me. Most of them simply offered their condolences and moved on, but a handful of them wanted to talk my ear off and didn’t get the message that I wasn’t interested in talking as I ignored them.

I was relieved to hit the dirt road that led to the ranch, even if it was covered in a blanket of snow. I had hoped to get back before the storm started, but things in a small town tended to move painfully slowly. Thankfully, the drive was beautiful nonetheless, with snow-covered trees that lined the side of the road.

As I rounded the corner to the ranch, I slowed down, leaning forward to get a glimpse of the SUV parked in front of the house. I wasn’t expecting company, which made my frustration rise to the surface again.

I put the truck in park and got out, looking around to see who was there. The Tahoe was empty, which meant someone was stupid enough to be out trespassing on private property, likely putting their nose where it didn’t belong. I grabbed the bags from the front seat and slammed the door, knowing the sound of the old metal truck would be loud enough for whoever was out there to hear.

By the time I got everything unpacked from the truck, I had yet to see who was still parked on my property. I didn’t expect there to be any trouble, given that the ranch was in the middle of nowhere and was pretty hard to find unless you knew it was there. Still, it made me uneasy knowing that someone had obviously found it and was making themselves at home without my permission.

I started a pot of coffee so it would be ready when I got back—Lord knew I would need the energy today. Then I grabbed my keys from the counter, stuffed them in my pocket, and closed the door behind me as I went in search of the intruder.

Five

Jasmin

“You have got to be kidding me,” I grumbled, wiggling as I tried to free myself from my jacket that was now stuck around a fence post. How it happened—I had not a fucking clue.

I grabbed the zipper and tried yanking it down again, knowing that if I could get it unzipped, I could easily be free. The last thing I wanted was to get caught out here, stuck to the crabby ass guy’s fence like some moron. Though, I guess it was only fair to say that I shouldn’t have been snooping around if I didn’t want to risk getting caught.

My body was starting to go cold from the frigid temperatures outside as worry nagged at my brain about the risk of possibly losing a limb to frostbite. I had no idea how long I had been stuck because every second that passed felt like hours. For all I knew, it could have been months and Frosty Fest was now a thing of the past.

I wiggled my fingers, hoping to get some feeling back into them as I attempted to work the zipper down once again. My feet ached from the wetness that had seeped into the fabric of my boots from the snow on the ground, as well as from awkwardly standing in one spot for so long. Who knew that having a wooden post attached to your back would make it impossible to move your body?

“Would you care to explain this?” a gruff voice said from behind me, the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow.

Shit.

“It’s actually a funny story,” I lied, knowing my face was beet red from embarrassment as well as the cold.

He arched an eyebrow as he stood in front of me, his dirty blonde hair covered by a thick beanie pulled down over his head. I had been entranced by his hazel eyes when I saw him yesterday, but today they were mesmerizing as they sparkled against the snow falling behind him.

“I came to bring you something,” I continued, hating how stupid I must look pinned to the post as he made no effort to try to help me.

His arms folded over his chest, the thick winter coat he was wearing doing nothing to hide the muscular body beneath it.

“A cookie. Well, cookies. I brought more than one.” I shook my head, irritated by my own rambling. “I thought you might want to eat my cookie while we talked.”

A ghost of a smile fluttered across his face before it disappeared, sending a jolt straight through me.

“I don’t meaneat my cookie—that’s gross. I mean, eat a cookie that I brought from Sugarplum Sweets. It’s this fantastic bakery in town and—”

I stopped talking as he lifted his hand to stop me.

“Get to the point,” he said, his voice curt.

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