Sleigh Bell Sweethearts

Zoey forced herself to look at the television. There she was—standing beside Alec, who was dangling a carrot in front of Palmer. The reindeer looked so picturesque, his back lightly dusted with snow. Like something out of a Christmas movie.

Alec didn’t look so bad himself.

Zoey absently folded something. A shirt? A sweater? Who knew? Alec looked absurdly handsome on-screen. Even more so than he did in person. No wonder the televised version of herself was gazing up at him as if he was the best thing to happen to Alaska since the Gold Rush. It was humiliating.

“I’m not glowing,” she protested. “That’s windburn.”

“Sure it is,” Kirimi said with an uncharacteristically saucy grin. “My Anya was right. Your reindeer man is rather dashing.”

Reindeer Man. It sounded like a superhero.

Zoey rolled her eyes. Why was she always comparing Alec to superheroes? “He’s not exactly mine.”

“He works for you, so he sort of is.” Anya winked.

Zoey knew Anya was only teasing, but the thought of anyone owning Alec Wynn was laughable. She wasn’t sure why, but he struck her as the type of man who valued his freedom. Maybe it was the motorcycle.

“Shh.” Anya grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the TV. “They just said your name.”

“The reindeer has been identified as the property of Zoey Hathaway, longtime Aurora resident. Subsequent to the animal’s capture and removal from the airport, chief air-traffic-control officer Chuck Baker announced Ms. Hathaway will be assessed a fine for impeding air traffic and shutting down the airport. The amount of the fine, as determined by the Federal Aviation Administration, is two thousand dollars.”

“What?” Zoey dropped the garment in her hands. A shirt, as it turned out.

“They’re making you pay a fine? That’s hardly fair. It wasn’t your fault,” Anya said. “I object.”

Zoey objected, too. She objected to the fine. She objected to the fact that she had to learn about it on the evening news. She even objected to the wording of the news report.

Subsequent to the animal’s capture? Wasn’t that overly dramatic? There’d been no capture. He’d followed Alec and his carrot all the way back to the ranch. The reporter made it sound as though they’d shot him with a tranquilizer dart or something.

She refolded the shirt and grabbed another item from the cardboard box in the center of the table. Why was she worrying about semantics? She had more pressing problems to worry about right now. Two thousand of them. Three, counting the money she owed Alec.

“Try not to worry, dear.” Kirimi gave her arm a gentle pat. The gesture was so unexpectedly maternal that it made Zoey’s chest ache. “Maybe you can talk to Chuck and he’ll reconsider.”

“It’s not Chuck’s call. The fine is levied by the FAA. There’s nothing more he can do. When I left the airport earlier, he told me he’d talk to them and recommend leniency. I know he did the best he could.” If two thousand dollars was lenient, Zoey didn’t even want to know what was standard.

“That’s a lot of money.” Anya grabbed the remote and turned off the television. The coverage had moved to the weather forecast.

Zoey didn’t need a weatherman to tell her what she already knew—there would be snow. Inches and inches of snow. Par for the course for Alaska. Besides, she suddenly didn’t feel like watching TV anymore.

“Is there anything we can do to help? What are you going to do, dear?” Kirimi asked.

Zoey stared, dazed, at the flannel shirt in her hands. It looked like something Gus would have worn, a thought that made her feel even worse. What could she do? Sell the reindeer? She didn’t think she could. Not after today. But she couldn’t give up her airplane, either.

Surely there was a way to work everything out. Christmas was coming. Her world couldn’t fall to pieces right before Christmas. It just couldn’t. “I’m going to do the only thing I can do. I’m going to pray. Harder than I’ve ever prayed before.”

* * *

Alec stomped the snow from his work boots on the welcome mat and glanced at the modest sign above the shop door. Aurora Community Church Thrift Store. He wasn’t so sure about the church part of the equation. He hadn’t set foot in a church in years. Not since Camille had broken off their engagement.

But this was a store, not a church. And he needed a good pair of work gloves. This seemed as good a place as any, so he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The instant he set foot in the crowded little store, an all-too-familiar, all-too-chipper voice rang out. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

Zoey.

She was everywhere all of a sudden. Just how small was this town? “Hi there, boss.”

“Alec. Oh.” In the split second before she composed herself, she didn’t look any happier to see him than he was to see her. Before he could blink, she pasted a smile on her face. Ever the cheery princess.

Alec couldn’t imagine how exhausting it must be to project such a bouncy, happy image to the world at all times. Just thinking about it made his head hurt. “You work here?”

“Sort of.” She cast a glance over her shoulder, where a couple of other women stood behind a worktable, pretending not to listen if their not-so-subtle grins were any indication. One of them looked familiar.

Alec waved at them. “Ladies.”

They waved back, and he realized that the younger of the two was the woman who’d accompanied Zoey to the ranch earlier.

He turned his attention back to Zoey. “So you ‘sort of’ work here? What exactly does that mean?”

“I’m a volunteer.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”

“What’s wrong with volunteering?” Her eyes flashed—a telltale crack in her perfect, bubbly composure. She looked even prettier when she was flustered, he noted.

Then he reminded himself he shouldn’t be noticing such things. “I never said there was anything wrong with it. It just seems like the type of thing you’d do, that’s all.”

She crossed her willowy arms, clearly an effort to physically hold her anger at bay. Alec couldn’t help but wonder what she’d be like if she let it all out. “Why are you so insistent on pigeonholing me? I told you I’m not what you think.”

His gaze swept her up and down, from her bouncy princess hair to the pompoms dangling from the ties of her snow boots. “Clearly not.”

Color rose to her cheeks. She looked like the Tooth Fairy on the verge of a murderous rampage. “Why are you so mean? I should fire you. Again. You can’t be the only man around here who knows about reindeer.”

“I’ll be happy to move on as soon as you say the word...and pay me the money you owe me, of course.” Alec lifted an expectant brow.

He should cut her some slack. She’d obviously had a rough day. But there was something fun about rattling her. And Alec hadn’t had much fun in his life.

“Is there an actual reason you stopped by, or was it purely to antagonize me?” she asked, refusing to take his bait.

He was beginning to suspect she didn’t have the money. And if she didn’t, then he’d indeed misjudged her.

I’m not your average heiress.

For some crazy reason, those words made him smile. “I need some work gloves.”

“Right this way.” She spun on her heel, moving through the crowded shelves of the thrift store with the energy of an arctic hare.

Alec followed, studiously averting his gaze from the sway of her slender hips. No good could come from forming an appreciation for her figure.