Page 14 of A Christmas Spark
She got up to shower and dress, and came back to find the kitten still happily asleep on her pillow. Mabel scooped the kitten up, carrying it downstairs for them to both have breakfast. She set the kitten back on her own pillow, before retreating to start coffee and warm up another cinnamon roll, and pour a saucer of cream and a bit of scrambled egg in a separate dish for the kitten.
When she came back out, she found the kitten happily playing with the jingle ball, rolling it back and forth with utter concentration. Mabel set the saucers down, hands on her hips as she shook her head.
“Where was all that fascination withyourtoys last night?” She let out a huff. “You just remember how much you like them tonight.”
The kitten batted the ball toward her, letting it roll into Mabel’s shoe as it jingled with a distinctly festive sound. Mabel sighed, smiling as she leaned down and batted the toy back.
“Merry Christmas to me,” she said, unable to wipe the smile from her face.
CHAPTER NINE
The wintry air nipped at George’s cheeks as he made his way down Main Street at lunchtime. Typically he packed his own lunch, but he’d had some errands to run in town, and he’d thought it might be nice to get lunch out for a change. He had someone watching the front desk at the tree farm, and there was still a light snow falling from last night. It was a remarkably nice day to be out walking in town, he thought, as the flakes dusted the shoulders of his work jacket and his gloves.
He’d stopped at the hardware store that morning to get some additional supplies for the gazebo he was working on, and it shouldn’t have actually taken more than twenty or thirty minutes to get everything on his list. However, the old proprietor liked to talk the ear off of every customer who walked in, and George had allocated a little extra time for that. He’d known he’d be treated to a recounting of just about every Christmas dating back to the sixties, if he didn’t escape sooner rather than later.
He checked his watch. He still had enough time, he thought, to grab some lunch out before heading back to the farm. Jackson was likely to have a good lunch special at the Snowdrift Diner, and his stomach rumbled just thinking about it. Personally,he was hoping that it was venison chili with a side of maple cornbread.
He quickened his pace, eager to grab something to eat. It slowed a little, however, as he passed The Toy Chest, and he glanced in quickly to see what Mabel was up to. He wasn’t planning on stopping, but he liked to catch a quick glimpse of her, just to see what was going on. Ever since she’d hurt her wrist last year, he worried about her just a little. Never mind that she’d hurt it pulling another one of her silly pranks on him; he still had been concerned that she’d been hurt, and he didn’t want it to happen again.
TheClosed For Lunchsign was hanging on the front door, and he briefly considered knocking and seeing if Mabel wanted to accompany him to the diner. She’d undoubtedly have packed something, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t treat her to a lunch. Just a couple of friends catching up—although he was sure she’d suspect him of some kind of prank until he could convince her that he meant it genuinely.
He approached the store, peering in through the window—and that was when he noticed something odd. Something that made him come up short with alarm, because it was so out of character for the Mabel Stewart that he knew.
Mabel was sitting in the velvet and gold chair—throne, really—that was used for Santa during the annual Santa and Mrs. Claus event, for pictures with eager children as they handed over their letters and whispered their Christmas wishes. Not even just sitting, which he rarely saw her do at any point when she was at the toy shop, but slumped to one side with her head propped on her hand, clearly asleep.
Concern washed over him. He rarely saw Mabel not in motion,especiallywhen she was at work. And if shehaddecided to take a little catnap out of sheer holiday overwhelm, she definitely wouldn’t have opted to do it in plain view of thewindow, where anyone walking past could see her. She might have a mischievous side to her when it came to pranks, but when it came to the toy shop—her pride and joy—he knew very well that she was both responsible and entirely dedicated to it.
His plans for lunch forgotten, George approached the door, knocking firmly on the glass. Mabel didn’t stir. His concern amped up a bit more, and he tested the doorknob, sure that she would have locked it to avoid any customers wandering in during her lunch hour.
The door opened easily.
By that point, he was more than a little worried. He hurried into the store, making sure to close and lock the door behind him. The cheerful bell above it rang merrily as he stepped in, but Mabel still didn’t stir.
Frowning, he approached. The store was calm and quiet, filled with the usual scent of pine from the live Christmas tree in the other corner window—one of his, of course—and the spicy scent of cinnamon and apple from a wax warmer glowing on the countertop next to the sales register. There was no sound other than Mabel’s soft snores, coming from Santa’s throne.
He frowned. She was clearly breathing and alive, and he wondered if he should wake her. She must be completely exhausted if she’d fallen asleep at work. He wondered what could have happened to wear her out so thoroughly, and that came with its own concern. The holidays were busy and could be exhausting, but the Mabel he knew thrived on the chaos.
Surely she wouldn’t want him to leave her sleeping in full view of the window though? He hesitated, trying to decide whether or not he ought to wake her.
His deliberations were suddenly and abruptly derailed when he felt a sharp clawing sensation in the side of his neck, as if several small needles had just been shoved into his skin all at once. He let out an abrupt yell of pain, grabbing for the source ofthe hurt, and his hand closed around a small furry body just as Mabel jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she took in the scene in front of her.
“Ah!” George yanked the offending, clawed beast free, holding it up in one hand as he looked to see what sort of creature had decided to use him as a scratching post. In front of him, Mabel had dissolved into laughter, tears welling up as she slapped her knees and shook her head back and forth.
“Well, well,” Mabel snorted, still laughing. “If I’d known all it would take to scare the daylights out of you was a harmless little kitty cat, I’d have used that as a prank a long time ago.”
George looked at the squirming tabby in his hand, disgruntled. He held it at arm’s length, scowling at the tiny creature as it let out a yowl of discontent.
“Very funny,” he muttered, reaching up with his other hand to touch the side of his neck. He could feel the small pinprick scratches, and there was a bit of blood, but no real harm done. His pride was as sore as his neck, maybe more so. “You were asleep on the job, by the way,” he pointed out.
Mabel huffed. “It’s my store. I can sleep if I please.”
George eyed her, setting the kitten down with a wary expression. “In full view of anyone walking by? I don’t think so. You sure you’re alright, Mabel? I’ve never seen you just out like that.”
She sighed, running a hand through her short gray, curly hair. The kitten hopped up onto her lap, making a small circle before lying down on her leg and beginning to claw at her jeans. “I know,” she admitted. “This little troublemaker kept me up all night though. I feel like I barely got a wink of sleep.” She reached down to scratch the kitten between its ears, so it didn’t seem that she was allthatupset about it.
“Since when do you have a kitten?” George asked disbelievingly, and Mabel chuckled.
“A few days ago. I heard a noise outside and found the little thing curled up in the bird feeder, just freezing out there in the cold. I couldn’t leave her out there, could I?” She gave the kitten another scratch behind the ears, and it let out a satisfiedmraowbefore jumping down to the floor. “It was so small and pitiful. I figured I’d give it some food and a warm place to stay.”
