“Doesn’t every woman?” Ginger threw back with a flirty grin.
He folded his arms. “No. I don’t believe they do.”
She pecked him on the cheek. “They should.”
Sliding his arm around her waist, Joseph pulled her to him and pressed his lips to her temple. “I’m going to hide in my room while you two do girly things.”
Ginger giggled. She could only imagine springing her four sisters on Joseph. Frost and her penchant for colors and ruffles and poufy skirts was probably elbow deep in planning Ginger’s wedding. Not that Ginger minded; who had time to design bridal gowns and flower arrangements when Joseph was so stinking kissable?
Maybe they could elope …
Maybe she should spend more than an hour with him before she married him. Except that this felt right.
There was one thing that had her worried.
Joseph had been against the holiday for long enough that turning him into a believer may be impossible. The fact that he’d been able to see the magic surge out of her gave Ginger hope that he wasn’t a lost cause. Taking a deep breath, she forced a bit of reality into her thoughts. Things may happen by magic at the North Pole, but down here there was a certain order to dating, courtship, and marriage. In fact, that was the order: date, court, marry. If she wanted to win the game of love, she had to play by the rules.
“What are you thinking?” Joseph asked, a concerned tilt to his head.
Layla appeared in her doorway, brush and bow in hand. “I haven’t used this one yet.”
“Oh, that will look clever with your shirt.” Ginger avoided answering Joseph’s question by focusing on Layla.
Joseph put his hands up. “I’m out. Knock when you’re ready.”
Ginger was sad to see him go, but she didn’t mind watching him leave. Flannel pajama bottoms were a wonderful invention. She’d make him six more pairs for Christmas.
Her purse produced a plethora of styling products, a blow-dryer, and a flat iron. The latter Ginger allowed Layla to use only with supervision. Sharing the mirror, Ginger styled her hair and produced a new, oversized green sweater to go with the skinny jeans she’d had on yesterday. While she felt ready to be her Kringle-y self in front of Joseph and Layla, riding into Clearview in her pajamas may not be the best idea.
“That’s really pretty.” Layla fingered the soft threads.
“I’m glad you like it, because I got one for you too!” She pulled out an identical sweater in light blue.
Layla’s face lit up. “I love it! Thank you!” She hugged Ginger tight. “It even matches my bow.”
“And your eyes, sugarplum. You have such beautiful eyes.” Ginger cupped Layla’s face and kissed her forehead.
“Are you going to marry Uncle Joseph?”
“Wh-what?” Ginger stumbled. It was one thing to hypothesize about marrying Joseph; it was quite another to discuss it with his niece. There wasn’t another man in Clearview that Ginger wanted to marry. From the moment she’d met him, some part of her knew Joseph was the guy for her. The feeling came from inside, like a compass pointing toward home.
Layla’s heart held such hope that it beamed right through her smile, almost as if it were her Christmas wish to be part of a family. But she didn’t want to be with Joseph just to have a Mr. Claus or even to provide a family for Layla. She wanted more for them than a job title and a yearly sleigh ride. She wanted love. True love. Which was bigger than any wish she’d ever had.
While she was sure she was falling for Joseph, she wasn’t at all sure he was falling for her.
“I saw you kiss him.” Layla hugged the sweater to her chest.
Ginger certainly hoped that things would work out that way, but she couldn’t assume without knowing how Joseph felt about becoming a fixture in her kind of nutty family.
See, it wasn’t just about marrying Ginger.
And it wasn’t just becoming a Christmas icon.
Marrying her meant moving to the North Pole and living with the whole Kringle Clan. Joseph was a loner. He moved to one of the most remote towns in the world and then moved two miles out of town by snowmobile.
“All set?” Joseph’s hand was on her shoulder. He looked excessively fine in a pair of worn jeans and a navy blue Henley.
Ginger smiled. Love can conquer all, right? “Just about.”
Layla ambled slowly to her room to change.
“Hurry, Ginger says she has a surprise.” Joseph winked.
While Layla was changing, Ginger and Joseph put away the leftover breakfast food, sneaking bites of this and that to hold them over until lunch and stealing kisses. Nothing as deep and lingering as those first ones; more like happy little I’m-so-happy-you’re-here pecks and I-can’t-get-enough-of-you kisses.
Ginger twirled a kitchen towel around her hand. The longer Ginger thought about the reality of what she was asking from him, the more cowardly she became. His reaction to what she’d done to the town would say a lot about how well he’d be able to handle life at the North Pole. “I hope you like the surprise.”
Joseph smiled. “As long as you didn’t decorate my shop, we’ll be fine.”
Ginger’s laugh was as wooden as the floor beneath her feet. His shop? No. Everything else in town? Yep.
Layla came out, cheery in her new sweater, and soon they were all situated in the sleigh.
*
“Is this your preferred mode of travel?” Joseph asked. Ginger was comfortable holding a pair of reins, like she’d done it all her life.
“Actually, I prefer to fly.” Ginger grinned as she urged Blitz on.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me. Are you a pilot?” Joseph asked. There were dozens of questions that came to mind, and he wanted to know everything about her. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure what her last name was. He’d heard several versions over the radio and in town. Feeling as though someone had stuffed a snowball down the back of his shirt, Joseph squirmed in his seat. How he could have kissed a woman without knowing her last name? This wasn’t just any woman, though. It was Ginger. She was magical.
“Yeeees.” She drew out the word like she wasn’t sure of the answer.
Joseph’s fingers found the holly pattern of their own accord, the smooth wood under his hand soothing the slight unease prancing through his mind. “Um,” he laughed, “I’m not even sure how to ask this.”
Ginger laughed too. “Just ask.”
“Okay—what’s your last name?”
Ginger glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as if gauging his ability to handle her answer. “Kringle.”
“Kringle? That’s not a very common name.”
“It is where I come from.”
Ginger took the sleigh up the side of an embankment, and they tipped nearly ninety degrees before coming back down. There weren’t any seatbelts and yet everyone stayed in their seat. They jostled as they righted, but for a sleigh with metal runners, it sure was a smooth ride. He began to inspect further. There wasn’t a spot for a heater, and yet the seats were warm. He was just about to ask her how that worked when she pulled to a stop at the bottom of Main Street.
“Wow.” Layla grabbed the dashboard and leaned forward. “Look!”
Main Street Clearview had been transformed from the rundown wooden storefronts to a Christmas village worthy of the Lemax Company’s envy. Rows and rows of fairy lights hung across the street, stretching from the land office over to Jeans ’N’ Things and back to the doctor’s office. On and on they zigzagged, right up to the church at the top of the hill.
Ginger clicked her tongue at the reindeer, and they moved forward at a trot. Kazu stood outside the Trading Post, scratching his head at the five-foot mechanical Santa wishing everyone who passed by a Merry Christmas.
Through the large front window of the Grizzly Café, Joseph could see Trudy stepping around a giant tree as she served French dip sandwiches to the regulars in their plaid flannel shirts and snow pants.
A giant present wrapped in gold foil
and tied with a green bow sat on the porch at the post office with a tag that read “Letters to Santa.” A large slot was cut into the side to accommodate even the biggest request. Stockings hung in the window at Fat Jack’s Garage. Even the Watering Hole had gotten into the spirit of things with a neon “Ho Ho Ho” sign.
Joseph’s stomach began to churn. Memories of long ago rose up like specters, forbidding and heavy upon his heart.
He’d written a letter to Santa, penning the one wish of his heart—a wish he didn’t dare voice in his home, but one that needed to be heard. He’d needed someone, anyone, to understand, and he’d foolishly believed Santa, with his merry helpers, would be able to fulfill his request.
He’d been so wrong.
His childlike hope for Christmas morning was dashed when he was handed a package of undershirts and a new pair of work gloves—needed items for sure, yet not what he’d written for, not what he’d dreamed. Year after year of disappointments piled up like record-breaking snow in his chest, making it difficult to take a deep breath.
As if the lights and the decorations weren’t enough, every door was outlined in greenery and bedecked with a festive, personalized wreath. The Tea House had a teapot and cups amidst the boughs, and the gas station wreath was decorated with classic cars. Railings weren’t left alone; red, white, and green ribbons transformed the posts into candy canes. At the top of the street, right in front of the church, was a giant Christmas tree even the Whos of Whoville would be proud to call their own. The transformation was surreal enough that Joseph wouldn’t be surprised if Cindy-Lou leapt off the branches and sat in the seat next to him. In front of the tree was a life-sized Nativity scene. The camel’s heads bobbed up and down, and the star twinkled.
“What do you think?” asked Ginger. Her grip on the reins turned her fingers white.
“It’s unbelievable.” He pressed his fist to his chest.
“It’s Christmas—as it should be.” Ginger’s broad smile faltered as she noticed Joseph’s discomfort.
“Did you do this?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“To share Christmas.” She shrugged as if decking a whole town—and his house—in one night was normal.
“I love it.” Layla gave Ginger a hug. “It’s perfect.”
Layla would have a much better Christmas morning than Joseph had ever experienced, yet filling her head with nonsense about Christmas Magic and miracles would only set her up for heartache. “It’s work.”
“Not really.” Ginger smiled. “It was fun to come up with something for each store and the sled makes hanging lights easy—”
“Nothing happens without work.” As the words clumped from his lips, Joseph heard his father’s voice, and he cringed. His father had used that phrase to get him out the door and on his way. Never did the words I love you accompany him to his jobs. It was always work, work hard, don’t embarrass the family. Don’t dream and don’t fancy yourself above where you came from.
“Work is how life moves forward how dreams are really accomplished, Ginger. We can’t wait around for life to pull a rabbit out of a hat or a present out of a bag.” He waved towards her red purse tucked under the bench.
“I didn’t say—”
“My cabin wasn’t under a Christmas tree—I built it with sweat and hard labor. Same as my business.”
“I know that, I—”
Spinning out of his seat and onto his feet, Joseph reached for Layla’s hand. “Thank you for the ride, Ginger. We’ll find our own way home.”
“Joseph, please don’t shut out Christmas,” Ginger pleaded, though her eyes begged him not to shut her out.
“It’s too much—there’s too much here.” He pointed to his chest.
Layla’s shoulders dropped. “But—”
“Why don’t you run to the tea shop and order us a hot chocolate.” He gave her a gentle shove in that direction.
“Bye, Ginger.” She waved as if she knew this would be her last visit with Ginger.
Ginger waved back, a pretend smile on her face. When Layla was out of earshot, she dropped the reins and crossed the sled. “Joseph.”
“I can’t, Ginger.” The words were heavy in his throat, closing it off. He swallowed hard. “Maybe I’m made of coal,” he tried to joke, but his tone was flat.
Ginger swiped at her cheek. “At least let me take you home.”
“I can’t let you do that. You’ve already given Layla expectations that can’t be met. She doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken.”
“That doesn’t have to happen.” Ginger scrambled off the sleigh. Joseph stepped back to avoid touching her. That’s what had gotten him into this whole mess—letting down his guard, wishing for something he couldn’t have. “All her Christmas wishes can come true. Joseph, if you can’t believe in Christmas, please try to believe in me.”
Looking into her twinkling blue eyes, Joseph almost believed he could have a Christmas miracle of his own. But there was too much of a history—too much proof to the contrary—for him to cast aside. “I’m sorry.” He turned on his heel and jogged to the Tea House, leaving Ginger and his heart out in the cold.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ginger stood in the middle of Main Street, staring after Joseph’s retreating figure in shock. She’d expected some chaffing from him, but after the moments they’d shared that morning, she thought they could work through what was bothering him—together.
“He doesn’t believe in me.” Hot tears graced her cheeks. She hadn’t asked him to believe in Santa, or that reindeer could fly, or that elves loved making toys. She’d asked him to believe in her, and he’d refused. Her biggest fear had finally happened—the very thing that made her who she was had come between her and the man she loved.
She stared at the Tea House like a dolt, thinking that it took three ghosts to change Scrooge’s heart … And no, she didn’t think he was a real person. The story was a classic because people don’t change their mindsets or a history of unbelief with just one visit from an old friend. A monumental shift took confronting the past, present and future with an objective mind.
Five minute into her contemplation, a snowmobile pulled up. Lux ripped off her helmet and flew at Ginger, grabbing her by both shoulders. “Why won’t you answer your phone?”
Ginger blinked trying to remember where she’d put her phone. “I think it’s off.”
Lux pulled her towards the sled. “Fly me home!”
Ginger planted her heels in the snow. “I can’t go back. I’ve got to talk to Joseph. There has to be a way to—”
“Ginger,” Lux snapped like her power strip had been switched off. “The system has been overloaded.”
“So?”
“So whatever you and lover boy were doing this morning blew the power grid.”
Ginger’s cheeks reddened. She’d thought things were pretty good—okay, Joseph could kiss like a pro—but to blow the system? Holly berries, that was some good kissing. “It was … um … good.”
Lux wasn’t out for details; that was Stella’s job. Thankfully, Stella wasn’t anywhere near. “Too good. The power surge was off the charts.”
“You bet it was.” Ginger smothered her smile.
“Ginger, The List is gone.” Lux’s voice was near panic as she shoved Ginger into the driver’s seat.
Jerking upright, Ginger placed her hand on the backrest. “The list, as in The List”
When letters came in, they were logged into the program and attached to names on The List. The orders moved through production and were packed according to The List. If they didn’t have The List, they didn’t have Christmas.
“The power surge fried the main circuit. I’ve got to get up there and see if I can reroute—”
“Get in!” Ginger pulled Lux forward by her scarf. Lux fell into the seat. With a hearty “On Blitz!” they raced down Main Street, taking to the air as soon as they’d cleared town. Making a loop, Ginger aimed due north. Allowing Blitz free re
in, she braced her toes against the blocks.
She’d pushed Joseph too far too fast, but she didn’t have time to fiddle around. The deadline approached. She’d have to press on as if Christmas were right on schedule—broken heart or no broken heart.
Tears trickled down her cheeks as Clearview became nothing more than a speck far behind them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Joseph decided to do at least one productive thing in his day and check his email. Ginger had been gone for days, and yet her essence floated around him like the scent of one of those Christmas candles Kazu burned at the Trading Post. Feeling lower than the snow-covered branches on the pine trees, he’d settled into the couch for most of the day—okay, most of the week—letting Layla pick the movies. He even let her style his hair again.
His computer came online in record speed, and he knew he’d have to officially thank Lux for rewiring the whole house. How she accomplished as much as she did in the short time she was here amazed him. Then again, he probably shouldn’t be amazed at what the women in that family could do.
He had three new emails. Two of them were ads from companies he bought supplies from. They promised end of season discounts and amazing holiday bargains on all his favorite tools and carving necessities. The third one was an order for a rocking bench with two bears carved in the backrest.
Joseph leaned back in his seat. What were the odds of someone ordering a bench he’d already made yet hadn’t posted? Something fishy was going on here. Scrolling down to find a ship-by date, he saw the words “pick up Christmas Eve” were written in the slot. That was odd—who would come all the way up here to pick up a gift on Christmas Eve?
A first name, Clarence, was on the slip, and he promised cash. Cash was good.
Joseph went back up to the description and saw something he hadn’t seen before. Besides the two bears, there was to be a sprig of holly. For some reason, the design he’d seen in the sleigh popped into his head. The curvy leaves and pert berries would go well with what he’d already carved.
Sending a confirmation email took a little longer than normal with his right arm in a cast, but he was able to peck away. He still had the use of his fingers, so he should be able to work—tomorrow, after the aching in his heart subsided. At some point he would heal. Until then, he decided that napping and thinking about Ginger’s delicious lips were perfectly acceptable ways to pass his time.
Ginger (Marrying Miss Kringle) Page 17
