Page 29 of Rebel Without a Claus
Luke holds my stare. “Because we’re the only hope she has,” he says, gently patting Junebug on her swollen belly.
Somehow, that quiet certainty in his voice settles the panic in my chest. My stomach still churns, but I nod. “Okay. Yes. Let’s do this. It’s baby reindeer time.”
Helping delivera baby reindeer is both more magical and morehorrifyingthan I ever imagined. There are fluids. So many fluids. And smells. But also, something so vulnerable and pure that I could cry—and almost do.
Luke works with quick, steady precision. He guides me with short instructions. I run and get a ton of clean bedding and towels. And a bucket of hot water. I hold Junebug’s head. I soothe her. I cheer her on like she’s running a marathon. And finally, when the tiny, wobbly creature slips into the world and lets out its first bleat, I burst into tears.
“It’s a boy,” Luke says.
“Look at him,” I whisper. “He’s so perfect.”
Luke wraps the calf in a towel, wiping off the jelly-like gunk covering his fur and nostrils.He checks him, murmuring soft reassurances, and I stand there, watching him with my heart in my throat.
He’s gentle with the calf, gentle in ways I didn’t know existed in him.
And when he turns back to me, something clicks into place.
We’re both covered in hay and exhausted and surrounded by reindeer, and yet—this feels like a moment that matters.
“Come on over. Say hi,” he says with a jerk of his head.
I step tentatively over toward the calf, careful to walk around the puddles of bodily fluid that I prefer not to dwell too long on. I pause only to give Junebug a quick pat of her head. “Good girl, Mama,” I say as I pass by.
Then, I approach the baby cautiously, kneeling beside Luke. I reach out a hand and pet a section of his chest that’s been mostly cleaned off, surprised at how soft he is. Soft… and impossibly small and precious.
“What’s his name?” I ask, beaming through tears and barn grime.
“Dunno. Haven’t picked one yet.” Luke pauses, sliding a glance in my direction. “Do you want to do the honors?”
“Me?” More tears fill my eyes. I don’t know why naming a damn reindeer feels so special… but it does.
“Yes, you. You helped bring him into this world. It’s tradition that the first calf you help deliver on the farm, you get to name.” He points to the pen across from us. “You don’t think I actually named a reindeer Xavier, do you?”
I bite my lip through the utter joy I’m feeling and grin like the maniac I am. “Then I’m officially naming him… Princess Yuletide Sparkles.”
Luke’s face completely falls. “He’s … he’s aboy.”
“Hmmm…” I press my lips together. “Good point.PrinceYuletide Sparkles, then.”
Luke groans and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Please, God, no.”
I press my lips together. “You’re right. Prince doesn’t have the right ring to it. Princess Yuletide Sparkles it is!”
“Please god do not name my reindeer Princess Sparkles. If it was a girl, I’d be asking the same thing?—”
“Too late. You said it yourself… it’s tradition that I get to name the first calf I help birth. So Princess Yuletide Sparkles it is.”
Luke groans again, but this time I spy the tiniest hint of a smile curving his mouth.
“He’s gonna be the most majestic reindeer of them all. Just wait. He’ll be leading the sleigh in no time.”
“All of Santa’s reindeer are female,” Luke says.
I snort. “Not if we’re going by the gospel according to claymation.”
“Well, claymation got it wrong. Male reindeer shed their antlers before December 24th. Thus, all the reindeer leading the sleigh are female.”
“Well,” I say. “That just makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it? Suck it to every man who’s told me women are bad drivers!”
