Marrying Miss Kringle: Lux

by McConnell, Lucy

Not one to be particularly needy, Quik’s desire for company surprised him. Especially his desire for company of the female persuasion. Perhaps it was the long, cold nights or the way the big sky full of stars made him feel so small, but lately, the desire to find a companion with soft eyes and soft lips snuck up on him. He shoved those thoughts away. There was no use dwelling on what he couldn’t have. He’d had his shot at a domestic life, and that hadn’t worked out for any of them.

  He took a moment to look around in an effort to distract himself. He could use a new shirt. This one had a hole at the bottom. Not that anyone had mentioned his disheveled appearance at the Christmas pageant and big wedding on Christmas Eve. He shook his head. He’d never seen anything like Joseph Bear and Ginger’s wedding. All those fancy Christmas dresses and Joseph dressed like Santa himself. You wouldn’t catch Quik dressing like a fool for some woman. No matter how the light caught her red hair and turned it to gold. He flicked himself in the leg. He would not think about Lux.

  “Been seeing a lot of you lately.” Kazu handed the jerky across the counter, and Quik put it in the faded olive-green army bag hanging on his back.

  “Probably too much,” Quik grumbled. He finished putting the smaller items in his bag and grabbed a box of corn. “I’ll be back for the rest in a minute.” His snowmobile was parked out front, lined up perpendicular to the building, unlike the other snowmobiles on the street that were left haphazardly about. In the summer, Main Street was for pickup trucks, four-wheelers, and bicycles. In the winter, the snow was too deep for anything without tracks and skis. Quik set the corn in the small sled behind his machine and went back for the rest. The army pack stayed with him.

  “Hey there, Quik.” Pastor Willis held the door open for him. “How are things?”

  “Fine.” Quik bent over and picked up two boxes. Pastor Willis held the door again as he went out. As far as pastors went, Willis wasn’t so bad. He had a soft approach—not as much crying repentance as Quik was used to from the pastor he’d grown up with, but then people tended to be hard on themselves and didn’t need a preacher adding to that. “Thanks,” Quik grunted. Quik dropped off his load and went back in for his last two boxes.

  “Haven’t seen them since the wedding.” Pastor Willis shrugged.

  “That’s too bad. Those girls sure brightened up this town.” Kazu frowned.

  Quik made the mistake of making eye contact with Pastor Willis. Eye contact was an invitation for conversation.

  “How ’bout you? Have you heard from Ginger or Lux?” asked Willis.

  Quik looked him over. The man was about his age, maybe a little younger. He hadn’t grown up in these parts. Quik remembered hearing once that Willis had been called to their region by the Holy Spirit—felt he had to find something up here. People came to Clearview for all sorts of reasons, and they didn’t always stay. Willis should. He was a good man.

  Good man or not, there was no need to chew the fat. Every minute he was in town was one more liability he didn’t need. “Nope. No reason to.” Quik hurried to the door.

  “I thought you and Lux—” started Willis with an interested tip to his head.

  “Nope.” Quik cut him off.

  Willis and Kazu exchanged a look. Quik stood by the door.

  “Oh. Let me get that for you.” Willis crossed the room to open the door for him.

  Quik hadn’t been waiting for him to open it. No. He’d been wondering if these two were thinking he and Lux were connected because of something he had done or something she had done. Had she done, or even said, something that made them think … The cold air hit his cheeks and brought him back to himself. “Thanks.”

  “Quik?” Willis followed him out to the snowmobile. “If you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

  Quik dropped the boxes in the sled. Hard. The sled sunk several inches in the snow. Great. “Don’t know what I’d say.”

  “It’s not good for a man to be alone all the time. It does things to him.” Willis’s eyebrows wrinkled.

  He was a good guy, called to serve the people of Alaska. To him, Quik must be one of the sheep who wandered off and needed to be brought back into the fold. If only the problems in Quik’s life were that simple. He actually felt pretty good about where he was with God—it was where he was with man that kept him up at night. “If I start hearing voices or talking to myself, I’ll let you know.”

  “I guess that’s fair.” Willis stepped back so Quik could start up the machine. He gave a nod and pulled away, the sled bouncing out of its rut and then slipping along behind him as easy as you please.

  The trek out to his cabin wasn’t marked by road signs. Quik had learned to find his way using nature’s road markers. Turn left at the fallen pine. Give the lake a wide berth. Cut between boulder valley. Then drive for another fifteen minutes. All in all, an hour-long trip that ensured no one came for a surprise visit. If the distance wasn’t enough to keep people away, the grizzly bears, wolf packs, and his military-sharp glares would do the trick.

  It may not be good for a man to be alone, but it was all Quik could hope for in this life if he wanted to keep the people he cared about safe. The farther away he was from them, the safer they were.

  Chapter Three

  332 days to Christmas Eve

  Lux put up a hand to stop Stella from climbing into the small green sleigh. “You have a date.”

  “An online date.” Stella folded her arms. “I can do that from Clearview.”

  “It’s still a date and therefore takes priority over my jaunt to town. We have less than twelve months for one of you …” Lux cast a glance to Frost, who was harnessing Kennedy to the sleigh, to include her in the conversation. “To get married.”

  Lux checked to make sure she had her magic Kringle purse—no Kringle left home without hers. Ginger’s was red leather, polished, and poised like its owner. Lux’s was an olive-green messenger bag. Kids all over campus carried them when she was in college, and she’d wanted to fit in. She kept the design upon her return home. It worked with her layered T-shirts and cargo pants and canvas shoes. Although, Frost had talked her into wearing a pair of black boots, winter coat, and a pair of snow pants today. Since they were going to civilization, they needed to blend in with the locals. The less attention they drew to themselves, the better.

  Lux pulled a beanie down over her hair. Selora, the head elf over stables, walked forward with a brush. Kennedy stomped his hoof and shook his antlers. “Selora, if he’s got an attitude, I’d just as soon take Dunder.” She reached up to unhook the harness.

  Frost frowned. “He’ll be fine once we’re in the air.”

  Lux nodded. “Exactly. His takeoffs are harder than peanut brittle.” And just as bumpy.

  Frost stroked Kennedy’s neck. “You’ll be good. Won’t you, boy?”

  Kennedy snorted. A snort that said he had no intention of making flying easy on Lux. She sighed.

  Stella smirked. “If I drive we can take Prancer.”

  Prancer was the Cadillac of reindeer. Within the vast stables, no animal flew as smooth—or as fast—as Prancer. Lux placed her hand over her belly. Flying fast was almost as bad as a bumpy takeoff. Neither Lux nor Frost had the skills to handle Prancer in the air. Stella, on the other hand, was just reckless enough to keep the reindeer on his toes. “My flying issues aside, Stella, you need to stay here and do what you do best.”

  “What’s that?” asked Frost, her head tipped to the side, causing her long white hair to fall over her shoulder.

  “Flirt.” Lux grinned.

  Stella slapped her shoulder. “I am way better at making toys than flirting.”

  “Whatever!” Ginger walked through the door. She wore a red tiered skirt and black boots with a white tee. The outfit was casual Santa, and she carried herself with a confidence Lux envied. Ginger laughed and poked Stella’s shoulder. “You’re the Olympic champion of flirts.”

  Stella brushed her nails across her shoulder. “Then I’m a gold
-medal toymaker too. I can’t help it if men find me irresistible.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” Ginger hooked her arm through Stella’s. “Come on, while they’re away you can show me your date’s profile, and we can run a background search on him.”

  Stella’s eyes brightened. “My kind of background search?” Stella had mad hacking skills. She could find out what a guy got on his fourth-grade states and capitals test, how much was left on his mortgage, and if he’d ever served time.

  All the information was helpful when weeding out potential husbands, but Ginger was Santa now—Santa had her own ways of finding out if a guy was worthy of her sisters. “I was thinking we could check his status on the Lists and then go through his old letter requests.”

  “Bo-ring.” Stella rolled her eyes.

  “We could go to the workshop and watch Joseph carve a bench. He’s got one almost done—”

  “Naughty List, here we come.” Stella swung Ginger around by the elbow and headed for the door. “Let me know if there’s any new guys in Clearview,” she called over her shoulder.

  “What makes you think your date’s on the Naughty List?” asked Ginger as they walked away.

  Stella cocked her head to the side and swung her hips. “Oh, honey, a woman can tell.”

  Lux shrugged off Stella’s disturbing idea of an acceptable date. She wasn’t there to judge the men her sisters brought home. As long as they loved her sisters, that was all that mattered.

  With a resigned sigh, she took her seat in the sleigh. Though Kringles weren’t susceptible to viruses, Lux had a bad case of sleigh-sickness. Mom said she’d thrown up on her very first flight and every one since then. That wasn’t necessarily true. There had been at least five sleigh rides where she hadn’t tossed her cookies. Three of those were with Dunder.

  Selora led the aging reindeer out of his stall. He moved slowly, his hips taking time to loosen up. “Go easy on him; he’s not a first-flurry reindeer anymore.” She patted his neck. Dunder didn’t have eyebrows, but if he did, he would have lifted one to give Selora an I’m humoring you look.

  “He’s the one who has to take it easy on me.” Lux leaned forward to talk to Dunder. “Please?”

  He stared at her long enough that she believed he understood her plea, and then he put himself in the perfect spot for harnessing. Frost chatted as she helped Selora. “That’s a beautiful vest, Selora.”

  “Thank you, Miss Frost.” Selora’s ears turned pink. “I made it special.”

  Frost grinned. “You mean you made it to impress someone special.”

  Selora’s ears turned positively red. “Well, I’m not wearing it for the reindeer.”

  Frost smothered her giggle with her hand. Dunder stomped his back foot. The reindeer didn’t like to wait while they stood around yakking. He was a “get on the wind and get it done” kind of animal.

  Lux pulled a thick blanket over her lap, ready to pull it up over her head when the stable doors opened. If she didn’t watch the ground disappear below them, then she wouldn’t think about falling, and then she wouldn’t get light-headed, and then she wouldn’t get queasy and then— Her stomach rolled as if she’d eaten too much butter-ripple fudge. She should stop thinking about what wouldn’t happen.

  To ease her mind, she checked the compartment under the seat, where her laptop was snuggled between pieces of packing foam. She wanted Quik to check her equations, specifically the equations to evaluate the ampacity of a conductor with known material constants and the ground grid to remote earth without metallic conductors before she drew the plans for the substation. Some things weren’t spelled out in the textbooks she’d ordered and read over the past three weeks. Important things like how to install a substation inside an ice cave. And she desperately needed someone to check her math.

  Meeting Quik was a stroke of luck. Or fate—if she believed in that sort of thing. Perhaps it was divinely brought about. She did believe in God and miracles and His hand in her life. God was the source of all love. Love was the most powerful force on earth. She had studied love’s abilities and knew they were real.

  Quik had offered to help her rewire the church a few weeks ago for the Christmas pageant. She’d tried to put him off, worried he’d electrocute them both, but he’d insisted he had a degree in electrical engineering and would be fine. As they worked side by side, watching what the other was doing out of the corner of their eyes, they anticipated needs and handed over tools before they were asked for, making the task feel acutely intimate. So intimate that Lux had begun to wonder if they could do other things as well as they worked together. Closer things, where lips touched. Lux’s ears grew warm, and her hands flew to pull her beanie over them in case Selora noticed and asked if Lux had someone special to wear a vest for.

  Frost threaded the reins through the hooks on the sleigh. “You ready?”

  “Huh?” Lux dragged her brain out of that place where magic floated around her memories of Quik.

  “Are you ready?” Frost repeated.

  “I’m ready to get this project under way.” Was she ready to see Quik? Probably not. It’s not like there was a potion, herbal tea, or shield that could keep her from going all gooey inside when she saw him. She’d have to focus on the science to make it through. Science would save her, and it would save Christmas.

  “Let’s go.”

  Selora shoved the doors open. When the frigid temperatures mixed with the stable’s heat, they created a vacuum that pulled at Dunder’s fur and inched the sled forward. Frost called, “On, Dunder!” and they lurched forward, slowed, and lurched again.

  Lux pulled the blanket over her head.

  “Here we go!” yelled Frost as the skids left the ground.

  Lux groaned. Though Frost probably thought she was trying to hold down breakfast, Lux was really worried about what would happen when she was face-to-face with Quik. If all went well, she’d be back home before dinner. If it all went badly, which included kissing the man with the teddy-bear-brown eyes, there may not be a home to come home to.

  Chapter Four

  Quik tapped the snow off his snow boots by kicking the closest tree trunk. The noise echoed off the hills and disappeared into the sky.

  With so few hours of daylight, the Southern California native spent as many of them outside as he could before he turned into one of those men scientists would chip out of an ice block in six hundred years. Snowshoeing and cross-country skiing were his favorite forms of exercise, and the tracks were easily lost in the frequent Alaskan storms, often disappearing before he made his way to the woodstove.

  Contrary to what he’d thought when he chose Alaska as his hideaway, the woods weren’t quiet. If he stood in the middle of the forest, he could pick up all sorts of noises, and he’d gotten to the point that he could pick out the unnatural sounds. That’s why he stood on the edge of his property and listened. Nothing out of the ordinary reached his ears, so he proceeded.

  He stood in front of his door to unlatch his snowshoes. Just as he was shaking off the left shoe, he heard a nervous “hello?” Quik spun around, his fists at ready by his face.

  Lux ducked and threw her arms over her head. “Don’t!” she yelled.

  Quik lowered his hands, but he couldn’t bring down the anger. “What are you doing here?” He hadn’t heard them coming. “How did you get here?” Why hadn’t he heard them? His eyes scanned the area, and he cocked his head to the side to listen for a drone. “How did you know where I live?”

  Lux grabbed her left elbow with her right hand. She kept her eyes down and kicked the snow. Normally Quik liked to have the upper hand, but he didn’t like Lux looking at the ground like she was afraid of him. “We came by sleigh,” she said, barely loud enough for him to hear.

  Quik looked past Lux and her fiery red hair escaping the dark beanie to the sleigh behind her. Standing next to it was a small woman with hair as white as the snow. Quik stared harder, sure she had purple eyes. Was that even possible?

  Lux
pushed her glasses up on her nose. “That’s my sister, Frost.”

  “Hi.” Frost’s greeting was like a bird’s chirp.

  Quik ignored her and turned back to Lux.

  “I had a couple questions about an electrical project I’m working on, and I was hoping you’d be willing to help … me.” She gulped.

  Still not looking at me. He shifted his weight in an effort to relieve the guilt slithering inside his gut for scaring her in the first place. Even though she’d scared the heck out of him first. Still, he could answer a few questions, maybe take the apprehension out of those deep green eyes. A man could get used to looking into eyes that warm. On second thought, he’d never get used to staring into Lux’s eyes. There was too much light and intelligence in her gaze to ever find the bottom of the well. With a start, Quik realized he’d been staring. He couldn’t afford to go soft over some girl, big green eyes or not. “I don’t have time.” He opened his door.

  “Wait!” Lux charged after him. “It’ll only take a minute.” She planted herself behind him. “It’s important.”

  Quik moved to block her view of the inside of his cabin and folded his arms. “Not to me.”

  She ripped the beanie off her head, giving her curls free rein. They spilled over her shoulders, capturing his attention. “It’s important to everyone.”

  He couldn’t have that. Projects that included everyone invariably included the wrong people. “I don’t appreciate you dropping in unannounced.”

  Lux shook her head quickly, making her unruly curls bounce.

  Quik cursed himself for noticing.

  “I didn’t have a choice since I don’t have a phone number for you—or an email.”

  “I don’t have either, and even if I did, I wouldn’t give them to you.” He stepped across the threshold and grabbed the door. “Put some bells on that sleigh.”

  “But—”

  He slammed the door in her face and pressed his ear against the wood. After a moment, he heard the crunch of her shoes in the snow as she walked away. Hurrying to the small window, he parted the blinds just enough to watch Lux stomp to the cursed silent sleigh.