Ginger (Marrying Miss Kringle)

by Lucy McConnell

  But if he was helping someone out by giving her directions … “Sure. Let me just grab some blankets for Layla.”

  “No need. I have plenty.” The stranger plunked a blue velvet covering over Layla. “Although I think you’ll find that traveling by sleigh is quite warm.”

  “Sure.” Joseph shook his head as he climbed into the seat next to Layla. He couldn’t help but notice the detailed work and brushed his glove over the wood.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it? My father-in-law made this over fifty years ago.”

  “He’s a master.” Joseph was impressed, almost to a point of reverence, at the expertise on display. Layla snuggled into her new friend.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Joseph threw his arm over the back of the seat.

  “Gail Kringle. And you’re Uncle Joseph and this is Layla.”

  With a flick of the reins the sleigh glided forward with surprising speed and control. Joseph expected his exposed cheeks to complain in the cold, but they didn’t. In fact, none of him complained. The ride was pleasant and the company charming. Gail had the air of a businesswoman in snow gear—efficient, smart, and not to be toyed with—and yet there was a softness to her that put Joseph at ease.

  “Does your reindeer fly?” asked Layla.

  “Depends on your definition of flying,” replied Gail with a wink.

  Layla was completely enamored with the conversation that itched at Joseph. Gail wasn’t propagating the Santa thing, but she wasn’t discouraging Layla’s belief either.

  “What’s his name?”

  The reindeer snorted as if offended.

  “Oh, don’t be that way, girl,” cooed Gail. “You see Layla, this is a female reindeer.”

  “But the antlers?” Layla protested.

  “Female reindeer have antlers just like the males. Only, the males tend to shed theirs in November, about Thanksgiving time, while the females will keep theirs until after the holidays.”

  “So all those pictures of Rudolf are pictures of a girl?”

  “Wouldn’t those pictures look silly without horns on Rudolf?” Gail laughed. “This particular reindeer is named Blitz.”

  “Blitzen?”

  “Blitzen is her daddy. She zips around so fast, she earned the name Blitz.”

  Blitz snorted again, this time making a somewhat prideful sound.

  Joseph leaned back in his seat. He should have stayed home and taken a nap. Reindeer acting prideful, flying, and a sleigh that was warm enough to fall asleep in. A nap sounded so good. The air around him seemed to warm with the scent of pumpkin spice, and for a moment before he drifted off to sleep, he thought of Ginger. Of her deep brown hair with a hint of red. Of her laugh. And of the way her lips reminded him of her cookies—good enough to sample and want to keep on the top shelf all for himself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The first batch of volunteers poured through the door like spring melt-off and icebergs through a dam. Frost clung to the fringes of scarves. The second group, which had been waiting inside the warm church, donned their coats and gloves and headed out. Each man or woman coming in handed off a tool and explained where they’d left off. The process was seamless, as if they’d done it a thousand times before.

  “I thought you said you had a hard time finding volunteers—these people act like they know what they’re doing,” Ginger said to Susan as they filled bowls with chowder and tucked rolls and cookies into the crooks of arms or, in some cases, open mouths. Keeping a weather eye on the soup pot and one more on the door, Ginger’s stomach twisted. If her mom didn’t get here soon, they’d be out of food.

  “Trading off like they do is the way it’s been done for generations.” Susan gave the soup a careful glance. “Although I’m beginning to worry about something else.”

  Ginger smiled. “I’ve been moving forward under the assumption that if I don’t mention our lack of food, it won’t be a problem.”

  Susan patted her on the back. “A positive outlook will go a long way. Let’s just hope it goes further than the last bowl.”

  Wiping her hair off her forehead, Ginger said, “I’ve called in reinforcements.”

  Just then, her mom breezed through the front door like a blast of peppermint. With one perusal around the room, Gail moved over to the table and hugged Ginger hello. The comfort found in that embrace was Christmas card worthy. Her mom’s ability to pack parental pride, a sense that all will be well, and endless love into a hug was a magic all unto itself.

  “I’ve missed you, sugarplum.”

  Ginger sank into her mother’s arms, grateful to feel the safety and security of leaning on a strong woman. After a moment, she straightened. “Mom, I’d like you to meet the second most efficient woman in the world—Susan White.”

  Susan’s smile widened. “It’s a pleasure. Your daughter here has been a ray of sunshine for our little town. With her encouragement, we’re accomplishing more this winter than in the ten before.”

  Gail’s arm around Ginger held her daughter snug her against her side. “She’s a real go-getter.”

  Uh-oh. The other reason for her mom’s visit—the talk about her workload—came to mind.

  “Speaking of, why don’t I run out and grab the rest of your parcels?” Ginger volunteered.

  Gail’s eyes danced with merriment. “I’ve got a little something for you in the front seat.”

  “Mom! You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

  “Nonsense. I saw this and knew it would be an exact fit. I simply couldn’t pass it up.”

  Feeling so much better now that the food situation was under control, Ginger hurried out to her mother’s sleigh. The silver runners sparkled, and Blitz stomped her feet in greeting. Laughing quietly, Ginger gave the reindeer a good scratch behind the ear. “You want to go for long flight, don’t ya, girl? See what you’re made of?” Blitz bumped into Ginger’s stomach with her nose. “It won’t be long now. Christmas Eve is right around the corner.” A nervous group of butterflies frittered about in her stomach at the thought of harnessing up the fastest eight reindeer in the barn. As her mother had so graciously pointed out earlier, there were several large tasks to complete before she could throw her bag in the sleigh.

  Speaking of gifts … Ginger moved to the front seat, anxious to see what her mother had brought. Hey, Santas don’t just love to give presents. Her mom appeared at the top of the stairs. With a big smile on her face, she skipped down to join Ginger.

  Enjoying the anticipation, Ginger pulled the blanket slowly down and found Joseph fast asleep. Joseph?! Who looked adorable all curled up in the corner like a child, his gruff exterior sloughed away by peaceful dreams.

  Throwing up her arms, Ginger spun on her mom. “Mom, I can’t marry him—he hates Christmas!” She pressed between her eyes. “Didn’t you get Lux’s email? He’s an excluder.”

  Startled, Gail sputtered, “I wasn’t talking about him.” She reached across and pulled the blanket the rest of the way down to reveal Layla cuddled against Joseph’s side. Gail’s stern expression dissolved into an indulgent grandmother’s gaze. “She’s a sweetheart, and I thought you could use some time with a child. Santas thrive on that.”

  “Oh.” Ginger felt like a first-class idiot. “Of course.”

  Mom frowned at Joseph, who continued to slumber. “Does he really hate Christmas?”

  Unlike Ginger’s father, who had been raised at the North Pole surrounded by elves who cherish everything about the holiday, her mother had been raised in California surrounded by free thinkers, movers and shakers. Not much surprised her mom, and Ginger was thankful for her level head in this situation as she nodded in the affirmative.

  “I wonder why.” Gail tapped her chin.

  So did Ginger. For Lux’s sanity, she’d hoped to put all things Joseph out of her mind. Yet here he was, snoozing away like a child who stayed up late in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve.

  She stared at his face, framed by hair that did this little
flip thing out from under his hat, and pondered what had happened to turn a kind-hearted man against the happiest day of the year. A wave of tenderness washed over her, and before she knew what she was doing, she reached up to brush his hair off his forehead.

  Joseph’s eyes fluttered open at her touch. His smile was lazy and contented as his eyes met hers, and Ginger wondered what it would be like to wake up to that each morning. Shocked at her train of thought, Ginger jerked her hand back and consequently tore the peace from Joseph’s face. The weight he carried when fully conscious crushed down upon him, causing Ginger to ache for the boyish look he had in slumber.

  Recovering quicker than she did, Joseph shook Layla awake. “We’re here.”

  Layla threw off the covering and bounded into Ginger’s arms. “I’ve missed you.”

  A hearty “ho ho ho” escaped Ginger’s lips. Blushing furiously and avoiding Joseph’s grimace, Ginger set Layla on the snow and took her hand. “I’ve missed you too. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, very!”

  “Wait until you taste my mom’s rolls. They are so fluffy you’ll think you’re eating a cloud.”

  “You always ate more rolls than soup.” Gail chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange between Ginger and Layla. “Layla, darling, would you carry this basket of cookies for me?”

  Layla hurried to help while Ginger lifted the heavy pot from the back seat. Before she could start up the stairs, Joseph grabbed her arm. “She’s your mom?”

  “Uh-huh.” The soup was getting heavy and Ginger eyed the stairs.

  “I should have known,” Joseph muttered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Gail Kringle was the kindest, most thoughtful woman on the planet, and if Joseph said cross word about her, he had another thing coming.

  Taking the pot from Ginger, Joseph’s hands closed over hers. Even through his gloves, she could feel the searing heat of a definite zap. “She smells good, like you.” Joseph stared at their hands as he spoke, as if he could feel the warmth too and was just as surprised by it as she was.

  “You think I smell good? Like, tasty good?” Ginger whispered.

  “Yes. No!” A trace of horrified embarrassment colored his eyes deep grey.

  Ginger kind of liked seeing him flustered. “But you think my mom smells tasty?”

  “No! I said she smells good. You smell tasty—I mean good. You smell like gingersnaps. And gingersnaps smell nice. You know, when they’re baking and stuff.” His cheeks burned red. “I need to get this inside before it freezes.” He squared his jaw. “That means you have to let go.”

  Ginger hadn’t even noticed she was still holding on, she’d been so caught up in the way his eyes swirled with colors like a freshly shaken snow globe. Heaven knew she felt like a swirling mix of hot and cold. “Sorry,” she muttered as she stepped back, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  Joseph shivered. “Must be a northern wind blowing through. You need a hat and gloves.” He looked at her gloveless hands curiously.

  Ginger stuffed them into her pockets. Her resistance to cold made it hard to remember such things as gloves. “I left them in the church. I’ll just hurry on in there and get warmed up.”

  They made it into the building and set the food on the table when another shift change happened. Scooter’s crew shed outer layers and hung them over the pews nearest the woodstove. Scooter pressed his cordless drill into Joseph’s hands and told him to finish securing the floor boards.

  Ginger smiled at Joseph’s incredulous face. “Go on,” she encouraged him. “If you want food you’ll have to earn your plate, or bowl, as the case may be.”

  Glaring at Scooter, Joseph asked, “What about Layla?”

  Ginger tipped her head. “I think she’ll be well taken care of.” Indeed, Gail had Layla set up with an apron and a bag of frosting. They were busy piping red noses on reindeer-shaped sugar cookies and having a grand time.

  “Woman gets lost and ends up at my house …” Joseph grumbled his way out of the church, slamming the door behind him with such force that conversations stopped for a moment.

  Ginger wasn’t left alone to ponder her interaction with Joseph. William, the pilot, if she remembered right, sidled up to her. “Hello, darlin’.” He put his arm around her waist in an ownership kind of way. His eyes were glassy, and his breath smelled like rum balls.

  “Hello.” Ginger tried to create some space between them, but William wasn’t letting go. Leaning as far away as she could, she folded her arms.

  “Now that the storms are over, I thought we could take that ride.” He wiggled his black and bushy eyebrows.

  Standing this close, Ginger could see the stubble that extended right up to his hairline and between his brows. The guy waxed or shaved his eyebrows. Like, a lot. She appreciated his effort. Did he really shave his forehead? And if so, how many times a week?

  “Ginger?” he asked, bringing her back from her musings.

  “Sorry, a flight. Yeah, I have a flight out on Christmas Eve.” She stumbled through her answer.

  “No, I meant—”

  Ginger was tugged out of William’s embrace and into Steve’s. He spun her off to the side, away from William, and released her. “Flying is boring.” Steve laughed as she righted herself.

  Ginger stared at him, wondering where he’d come from and how she’d ended up with two bull moose.

  “I beg to differ,” said William.

  Ginger did too, but she wasn’t about to argue with the man who had saved her.

  “Dancing is a lot more fun.” Steve insisted.

  William folded his arms. “Where are you going to dance around these parts?”

  “That’s none of your business. What do you say, Ginger? A romantic evening under the stars, dancing the night away.” Steve shook his hips.

  “Um.” Ginger glanced at her mother, who was watching her predicament with an amused smile upon her lips. She wasn’t going to be much help, and Lux? … Lux was nowhere to be found. Typical.

  Steve and William were both on the list, so they had to be good guys at heart. But despite the close quarters and fancy footwork, neither of them had produced even the slightest zap.

  Sighing heavily, Ginger wondered what was wrong with her. Perhaps her naughty radar had somehow overtaken her good sense and was now in control of her zap detector, making her attracted to the one guy in Clearview who hated Christmas. Was there even such a thing as a zap indicator? Why couldn’t this all be much simpler? Pick a guy, fall in love, marry, and deliver gifts. So simple on paper and so difficult in life.

  Ginger didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, yet she didn’t have time to spend on dates that were for naught. She took an inventory of her list.

  Patrick Greggory Scott—not going to happen. Her fault, totally.

  Quik—removed himself. Unwilling to change lifestyle.

  William—Ha! Like that was going to take off.

  Steve—Noteworthy dancer, no zap.

  Scooter—Best adopted brother ever.

  Was that it? Had she failed her family? The children? Herself? Was she meant to be a lone Kringle, wandering the world with no gifts to deliver?

  There had to be a way.

  Maybe it’s time to go off list …

  “Gail!” Susan hustled through the door, her eyes wide with urgency. “We need your sled. Joseph’s been hurt.”

  Ginger’s hands flew to her mouth.

  Gail stoked Layla’s hair. The child had suctioned herself to her side. “Ginger, can you drive?”

  The very last place on the whole planet Ginger wanted to go was Doctor Patrick Greggory Scott’s office. Yet she couldn’t let Joseph suffer, and Layla couldn’t be in better hands with Gail.

  Besides, Ginger wanted to take care of Joseph. It was dumb and silly and twitters and frippery, but she wanted to be the one to hold his hand—if he needed someone to hold his hand. “I’ll take him down. It’s less than a mile.”

  “I can do it,” volunteered Pastor Will
is.

  Ginger picked up her gloves. “The reindeer won’t listen to you. Sorry.” Pausing at the door, she tossed her mom the keys to the snowmobile. “Just in case.”

  Gail nodded, snatching them out of the air.

  Ginger hurried out to where two men were loading Joseph into the sleigh. He held his right arm to his chest. “What happened?” she asked.

  “He was peekin’ through the church window, got angry at somethin’, and ended up fallin’ off the stage and onto the pile of wood,” said Wood. The owner of Jeans ’N’ Things had closed shop and joined the party.

  “I wasn’t angry at anything—I just stepped wrong.” Joseph leaned into the corner of the sled, as far away from Ginger as possible. Once there, his shoulders lowered. The enchanted sled kept the cold at bay and made it so he didn’t have to brace himself against the wind. He looked around in awe, no doubt wondering what was going on.

  Picking up the reins, Ginger stood with her feet against the blocks. The faster she got Joseph to the doctor, the faster she could get him out of the sleigh. Honestly, what was Mom thinking, bringing her sleigh into town? She could have easily parked at the lake house and brought a snowmobile like a normal person. Except Mom was anything but normal. None of the Kringles were normal.

  “On Blitz,” she called.

  Blitz surged forward, gaining speed and begging to lift off. Ginger reined her in with an “Easy.” The last thing they needed was to fly off into the bright afternoon sky. That would really give Joseph something to ponder over.

  He’d already noted her ability to be out in the cold without freezing off her digits. And he’d connected that she and her mother carried holiday scents in their skin. All the sisters had their own scent—like Strawberry Shortcake dolls. No one knew why this happened, but it was one of those things the Kringles accepted. Maybe she could get Lux to study that instead of charting her personal life. And he’d seen her loneliness. True, she had a whole family of people and elves around her all day every day, but she was lonely. The emptiness sat on the back shelf of her mind most of the time—rarely getting the attention it begged. Yet Joseph had spotted it like finding Waldo in one of those children’s books.