Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I should be happy.
I’m not. All I think about is my lil bit. She’s alone down there in the world while I’m sitting on top of it and dreaming of her. I can’t stay here. I can still hear her words ringing in my ears—if I didn’t do my job as the new Santa, she never wanted to see me again. It’s like a candy cane between my ribs. I feel it with every breath.
Comet takes an apple from my hand. I run my hand down his side, giving him one more pat before turning to the ever-yapping Cinnamon.
“I need to go back.” The thought of leaving the North Pole when Christmas is almost here goes against every gut feeling I have. After all, I had to accept it. I am Santa. The spirit of Christmas flows through me, and I honestly can’t wait to make all those children happy. Despite the joy I feel when I think about all that, I still can’t get over Jocelyn, and I know I never will.
“Go back?” Cinnamon stops and blinks rapidly. “Back to the workshop? Yes. I agree. The elves are finally catching up with toy orders, but the chute that drops into your bag on the sleigh is busted. We need help.”
“Busted?” I turn to him and stride from the stables.
“I’ve been trying to tell you that all night. Yes, it’s busted. We need your help.”
“No, you don’t.” My comfortable black boots leave prints in the snow as I walk toward the three-story residence with the workshop attached.
“Santa, please.” Cinnamon hurries along beside me. “We need it repaired. I don’t have any workshop elves I can spare. Not if we want to meet all the Christmas wishes.”
I stop in front of the whimsical log structure with the Christmas lights and blanket of snow on the roof. “There’s only one person who can fix that chute.”
“You.” Cinnamon nods.
“No.” I stomp up my front steps.
“Yes.” He follows like an annoying gnat.
“What I’ve learned since I’ve been here is that you’re overwhelmed. This outfit wasn’t intended to meet this many needs every year. There are more children than you can keep up with.”
“I beg your pardon,” he says indignantly and follows me into the house. “We are working as hard as we can and—”
“That’s what I’m saying.” I stop and lean on the doorframe to my study. “You and the elves have been working nonstop since last Christmas. The chute’s not the only thing that’s busted. We need a real solution to the workshop issues instead of touch-and-go fixes that could fail and bring everything to a halt.”
“It’s not that precarious.” He sniffs.
“Holly Bell’s hammer is held together with chewed-up gum drops. It’s all Fir Bough can do to keep the line running when the cogs are so worn down that they barely turn. We need real help.”
He throws his hands up, the bell on the end of his hat tinkling. “Well, we can’t just magic up more elves from the snow. There are only a few elf children at the workshop school, and only a handful on the way. We’ve been so focused on keeping the shop running that we haven’t even had time to …” His cheeks turn an apple red, and he looks away.
“I can fix this.”
“Yes.” He claps. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”
“I need you to tell me how I can bring Jocelyn here.”
He cocks his head to the side and puts his hands on his hips. “No humans. She’ll die.”
“Can’t I keep her by the fire?” I point to the dancing green and red flames in my study fireplace.
“Sure, but the moment she strays from it, she’ll freeze. Humans are not allowed. They don’t have magic.” He says it as if he’s explaining it to a child.
I stomp around my desk and sit heavily, then reach for my hat. “I have to see her.”
“Why?” He hops up on the ladder that’s leaning against my desk and climbs to the top.
“Because I love her. And she’s the only one who can get this workshop running.”
“Jocelyn?” He stands in front of me, his sharp nose wiggling a little as he thinks. “Wait, yes. That’s right. Santa was visiting her because he wanted to offer her a job at the workshop.”
I lean forward, excitement sparkling through my veins. “If Santa went to her and wanted to bring her here, then there must be a way, right?”
“Well, of course.” He looks at me like I’m a total buffoon. “Of course there’s a way. Santa had a plan.”
I fist my hands and contemplate water-boarding him with sugary mead, but I hold steady. “And what was that plan?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“He was going to marry her, obviously. She would’ve become Mrs. Claus.”
I stop breathing for a moment. Santa was prowling after my woman? My woman? For the first time since all this started, I’m glad my lil bit offed the old guy.