Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
The North Pole Prize
©2014 by Caroline Mickelson.
Published by Bon Accord Press
Cover layout by Sabrina Mickelson-Begic
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
THE NORTH POLE PRIZE
Caroline Mickelson
For Sabrina, who is the best first anniversary present any mother could ever wish for - I love you!
Chapter One
“Santa asked to see me?” Garrett McCree looked up from his desk and studied the elf that stood in front of him. “Are ye sure, Rapz?”
The elf nodded emphatically. “Yep, I’m positive. The big guy asked me to escort you back to his office myself.”
“A personal escort? That sounds ominous.” Garrett sat back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head while he thought. He knew Rapz by reputation as an elf who generally managed to mess up every single order he was ever given. But now, under Garrett’s scrutiny, Rapz seemed quite certain that he was doing Santa’s bidding. A summons up to the inner sanctum of Christmas Central wasn’t an order that Garrett had ever received before, but there was a first time for everything, wasn’t there?
“Well, come on.” Rapz motioned for him to get up but Garrett Angus McCree wasn’t a man who hurried for anyone. Not even Santa Claus.
“In good time, Rapz, all in good time.” With a great deliberation, Garrett rolled up the plans he’d been working on and slid them into a cylinder container. With equal attention to detail he gathered up his drafting pens and replaced them in a drawer. “And you’ve no idea what Santa wishes to discuss with me?”
Rapz shrugged. “Mr. C generally takes me into his confidence about quite a few things but not this time.” He leaned forward and rested his hands on Garrett’s desk. His eyes widened. “Are you worried that you’re in trouble?”
Garrett nodded solemnly. “Aye, if you must know, Rapz, I’m utterly terrified that my many sins have finally caught up with me.” He pushed back from his desk and switched off the lamp. “I always knew the errors of my ways would one day come to light.”
Rapz, his green felt covered slippers suddenly rooted to the floor, didn’t make a move to follow Garrett to the door. His eyes widened even further. “What exactly have you done?”
“I don’t dare tell you, Rapz. I wouldn’t want you to be charged as an accomplice.” He pulled open his office door and pointed toward the stairway that led up to Santa’s inner office. “I’ll follow you, and you needn’t worry about me making a break for it.”
Rapz shook his head as he passed through the door Garrett held open. “I never know whether or not to take you seriously. Personally, I think you look harmless but people say-”
“I know what they say.”
Rapz stopped short and looked up at him. “You do?”
“Aye, I do.”
“And it doesn’t bother you?”
Garrett shook his head. “Why should it? Someone has to be the North Pole’s resident curmudgeon. Why not the Scot in the depths of the dungeon?”
Rapz began to move again, the bells on his slippers jingling with each step he climbed. “I’d hardly call your suite of offices a dungeon. In fact, I’d say you have yourself quite a nice set-up, Mr. McCree.”
Garrett quite agreed but he didn’t say anything as they made their way through the twisting corridor that led to Santa’s office. The rumors that he was a surly recluse didn’t bother Garrett in the least because they afforded him privacy. Privacy meant peace and quiet, and this he valued above all else. He was a man with little in life to complain about.
***
“Sir, with all due respect, I’d like to file a formal complaint.”
Santa Claus laughed heartily. “Sit back down, Garrett, and forget all this ‘Sir’ nonsense. I’ve known you since you were just a boy. Since when have we ever been on formal terms?”
“Never.” Garrett sank back into the red leather wingchair in front of Santa’s desk. “I’ve not had an occasion to file a written grievance before, Santa, but your request certainly warrants it now.”
With a white gloved hand, Santa reached out and took a gingerbread cookie from the plate on his desk. “It’s far too close to Christmas for a complaint to be heard in committee, I’m afraid.” With a quick bite, he snapped the heavily frosted head off and chewed thoughtfully. He washed the cookie down with a swig of peppermint tea before he turned his attention back to Garrett. “I’m sorry, young man, but I’ve little choice here. I need your help.”
Reason and rebellion went to battle in Garrett’s mind. How could he refuse Santa a favor after everything the Claus family had done for him? He owed them, of that there was no question. But this? Playing chaperone to a woman from down below for an entire week? Every instinct told him to either find a way to beg off or die trying. “But why ask me, Santa? Surely there is someone else who would do a far better job.” He thought a moment and then, filled with relief, offered up the perfect replacement. “Why not ask Saint Nick?”
Santa’s smile was kind, but all the same, he shook his head. “That’s a poor idea.”
“I respectfully disagree, Santa. Nick is the ultimate people person. He’s fun, he’s gregarious, and he’s as charming a man as was ever born.” In short, Nick Claus was everything Garrett wasn’t.
“Yes, my son is all of those things, I’ll give you that. But he’s also far too easily distracted by charming young women. I don’t need him sidetracked this close to the twenty-fifth.”
Garrett wasn’t sure which word, charming or young, set off the alarm bells in his head but their din was loud enough that he knew he couldn’t agree to Santa’s request. It was a secret he carefully guarded but Garrett was shy, especially around charming young women. And now Santa wanted him to spend an entire week escorting a woman around the North Pole all because she’d won an essay contest? He wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it. Santa was asking the impossible and there was nothing he could say to convince Garrett to do as he asked. Nothing.
“Please.”
Except that. Garrett dropped his head into his hands and closed his eyes for a long moment. Santa had never asked him for anything, and Garrett didn’t doubt that there wasn’t anything Santa wouldn’t do for him. He opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. He looked straight into Santa’s smiling blue eyes and nodded. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” Santa stood and reached out to shake Garrett’s hand. “I’m delighted you’re on board.” He picked up a slip of paper from the top of a towering stack on his desk and handed it to Garrett. “Here’s all you need to know about picking up our winner from down below, as well as some thoughts on how you two young ones can spend your time this week.”
Garrett took the paper and shoved it into his pocket without looking at it. He’d study it later, once he was fortified with more than a wee dram of scotch.
“Wonderful, now I must get back to work.” Santa walked Garrett to the door and slapped him affectionately on the back when they re
ached the outer office. “You might surprise yourself, my dear boy, by having a wonderful week.”
But Garrett knew the chances of that happening were exactly zero.
***
Snowflakes swirled in the moonlit Arctic air, each like a prima donna ballerina eagerly vying for the audience’s attention. Angelique Devereaux would have applauded every one for their beauty and grace except that she had her hands tightly gripped around the snowmobile driver in front of her. Still, she lifted her face and delighted in the rush of cold air against her cheeks. She hadn’t even arrived at the North Pole and already she loved it.
She leaned closer to the man in front of her and shouted against the wind. “Can’t you go any faster?”
In answer, he revved the snowmobile’s engine and sped up. To Angelique’s delight the white mounds of snow and green evergreen trees became a blur as they raced across the frozen tundra. She glanced back over her shoulder but couldn’t catch sight of the other snowmobiles behind them. But she doubted that the elves who had greeted her and loaded her luggage onto the four other snowmobiles were lost. After all, the man driving her didn’t seem concerned.
Nor had he seemed particularly happy to see her when he’d first greeted her but Angelique wasn’t going to let that bother her. The enthusiastic cadre of elves that had greeted her more than made up for his silence. Real elves! She’d laughed with delight as they’d introduced themselves, not only because they were charming and cute beyond words, but because seeing them made the whole thing real. From the moment she found out that she’d been selected as the grand prize winner of the North Pole Prize essay contest, a part of her feared that the whole thing was just a joke. But it wasn’t. Her welcome by Santa’s helpers had proved that her prize win was not a hoax. It was a dream come true, and she was the happiest woman alive.
As the snowmobile slowed, the world began to come back into focus. The pine trees had given way to an outcrop of adorable cottages painted in bright, cheery colors. They looked straight out of a child’s storybook.
The moment the snowmobile’s engine cut out, Angelique hopped off the back and removed her helmet. She shook her hair out and twirled around, unable to contain her delight.
“Thank you,” she said to the driver as he climbed off the snowmobile. What had he said his name was? Garth? He’d mumbled a greeting that she thought included his name but the only thing she had clearly made out was a Scottish brogue. She looked up and smiled. “I appreciate the ride, Garth.”
“Garrett,” he corrected her. “Garrett McCree.”
So she’d been right about the brogue, wrong about the name. For the first time, the light from the full-moon was bright enough that she got a good look at him. There certainly wasn’t any mistaking the fact that he was handsome. He was tall, she’d guess close to six feet. His hair was golden and his eyes, if the moon wasn’t deceiving her, were blue. She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Garrett McCree. I’m Angelique Devereaux.”
“Aye, so you said.” After a moment’s hesitation, he took off his glove and reached out to shake her hand, but he barely touched her before he pulled away quickly.
But not so quickly that Angelique missed a spark when their hands first touched. She glanced down at her hand and then back up at Garrett but his impassive face gave her no sign that he’d noticed the same thing. Ah, well, maybe it was something in North Pole air.
“Welcome to Christmas Central,” Garrett said. He motioned around their surroundings. “I hope you enjoy your stay at the North Pole.”
“Thank you.” Angelique smiled brightly. “I’m ready for my tour.”
Her companion’s eyebrows lifted. “Tour? Now?”
“Why ever not?”
“For starters, it’s the middle of the night.”
She laughed. “A moonlit tour. Perfect. Let’s go.”
Garrett didn’t move.
“What’s wrong?” Angelique looked up at him. “Don’t you know your way around?”
His answer was a frown that Angelique found charming, although somehow she doubted that was his intent. Who knew the North Pole had its own brooding Scotsman? She’d never have guessed.
“Surely you’re exhausted?” he asked. “I thought you’d want to settle into your cottage.”
“Eventually, yes. When my luggage arrives.”
“Aye, your luggage.”
Angelique looked in the direction they’d just come from. The night was quiet and she heard no sign of approaching snowmobiles. “Are you concerned that the elves are lost?”
A sardonic smile tugged at Garrett’s lips. “There’s nae problem with your luggage, if that’s what’s got you concerned. That’s quite a load of cases they had to haul, it’ll slow them down but they’ll be fine.”
Angelique clapped her hands together. “Great, then we do have time for a tour. What shall we see first?”
“Wait a wee moment,” Garrett protested. “What’s your rush? Judging by all you’ve brought, you mean to stay awhile.”
“My luggage?” She waved dismissively. “They’re filled with presents.” When he didn’t respond she added, “You know, gifts.”
“Gifts? Are you after Santa’s job then?”
Angelique laughed. “I wish. Can you imagine being lucky enough to be Santa Claus?”
“I’ve never thought of him as being particularly lucky.”
She cocked her head and studied Garrett. “What exactly is it that you do here, Mr. McCree?” She smiled saucily, “I gather you’re not the resident tour guide.”
“I’m the North Pole engineer.”
“How exciting, so you’re in charge of keeping things running smoothly, then?”
“I guess you could say that.” Garrett glanced over his shoulder at the row of tiny cottages, a hopeful expression on his face. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather get some rest now?”
“Not on your life.” Angelique smiled. “Now, answer me this. Why were you the one who came to pick me up?”
Garrett shifted uncomfortably. “Santa asked me to meet you down below and escort you here.”
“Which you’ve done, and I thank you.” She smiled encouragingly. “Then what plans did Santa have for me?”
Her companion waited for several seconds before he answered, his speech deliberate as if he weighed and measured each word. “He said I was to show you around, take you wherever you’d like, and…” his voice trailed off.
“And?” She prompted him. “Go on.”
He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. He looked, Angelique thought, rather like he was gearing up for a very unpleasant task. “Santa also asked that I be at your disposal for the length of your stay.”
“Wonderful. You’re to be my constant companion?”
“Aye.” His answer measured somewhere between devotion to duty and outright misery on the sincerity scale.
Angelique couldn’t contain her amusement. She smiled brightly. She loved a challenge and the man in front of her certainly looked like one. Getting him to loosen up and have fun for the duration of her visit was a task she could not only handle, but one she’d enjoy. “Garrett McCree, I understand that to you the North Pole might be old hat, but this is the trip of a lifetime for me. And I’m not willing to waste a single moment.”
He stared down at her plaintively. “So that’s a no to you turning in for the night?”
Angelique laughed. “Sleep is overrated, and you’d be surprised how little I need.” She took several steps towards the largest of the buildings before she looked back over her shoulder. “Come along, Mr. McCree. The night is still young.”
Chapter Two
As day broke over the North Pole, Angelique slipped on her running shoes. A quick glance out of her cottage window confirmed that the sky was clear. As for the cold, she had no doubt that it was intense but a quick run would keep her from turning into an icicle. She didn’t even try to keep a smile off of her face. She was happy. Good old fashioned happy.
A
knock at the cottage door alerted her to the arrival of a guest. She threw open the door and smiled broadly at the elf who was carrying two steaming beverage cups.
“Let me in, please, before your mocha latte becomes a frozen treat,” the female elf entreated. “I assumed that you would want some caffeine before anything else.” She bustled in and set the beverages on a small gaily painted end table. She grinned broadly. “I’m Jolly.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Angelique reached out and shook the elf’s hand. “Am I to take it that Jolly is also your name?”
“You are indeed correct,” Jolly said. “I’m fortunate that my disposition and moniker are one and the same. It saves explanations all around, don’t you think?”
“Indeed I do,” Angelique agreed. “Now please have a seat and let’s have a good chat.” She watched as the elf climbed up on the sofa and took a few sips of her drink. Jolly’s bright red and green outfit complimented the tartan sofa that boasted the same color scheme. Was everything and everyone at the North Pole always so bright and cheery? From what she’d seen thus far, yes. With the exception of Garrett McCree, that was.
“So you’re our contest winner?” Jolly asked.
“I have that honor.” And it was an honor. Angelique had never expected to win The North Pole Prize, but here she was, living her dream come true. “I’ve always loved Christmas. As in love, love, love it. On the twenty-sixth of December every year I’d start counting down until the next Christmas.”
A shared love of the holiday gave the two plenty to talk about until a knock at the front door interrupted them. Jolly slid off the sofa, pulled aside a blue gingham curtain and peered outside. “Oh, it’s Mr. Christmas himself.”
Angelique shot to her feet, just barely managing to keep her coffee from sloshing onto the braided rug. “Santa Claus is here?”
Jolly giggled. “Not exactly. It’s Mr. McCree.”
The North Pole Prize: A Christmas Romantic Comedy Short Story Page 1
