Ginger (Marrying Miss Kringle)

by Lucy McConnell

  Ginger blushed at Joseph’s suggestive grin. “I bet I could tell her what caused it,” he whispered for only her.

  “Shh.” She grinned. Honeymoons were awesome.

  “We thought it was all tied up to Mr. and Mrs. Claus, because historically that’s what we’ve had. But I didn’t take into account, and I can’t believe I didn’t consider this before, but there was always just one Kringle to fall in love. Dad was an only child. His dad was an only child, and so forth back to the beginning.”

  “That’s not the only thing out of order.” Robyn glared at Ginger.

  Ginger reached for Joseph’s hand. He squeezed her fingers in a silent show of support.

  “I was focused on what was going on with Ginger and Joseph. I kept trying to map out when they were together and even when she would think about him.”

  “All right, you’ve got a point?” Ginger prompted, her cheeks pinking.

  “The point is—I didn’t think that the rest of us could have something to do with the magic too.”

  Stella paused in the game she played with Layla where she pulled different rings out of her magic purse and tried them on the child’s fingers. “What are you saying?”

  Lux sighed. “I’m saying that Ginger and Joseph are only one fifth of the magic. Their fifth is burning strong, but the other four fifths are in danger of fading away. We only noticed the drop because none of us were in love.”

  Robyn jumped to her feet. “You’re saying we all have to get married?”

  Lux referred to her spreadsheet. “Not all of us at once; that would cause another overload. But one of us needs to get married before Christmas Eve next year, or a fifth of the magic will disappear.”

  Frost and Stella gasped.

  “Well, it’s not going to be me.” Robyn stomped out of the room.

  “Rock, Paper, Scissors?” joked Stella, looking between Frost and Lux.

  Lux ducked her head.

  “No one has to run off and get married next week.” Dad left his chair. “Joseph and Ginger just got home and need some time to set up their apartment. We have post-holiday reports and cleanup to do. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Mom nodded in agreement and with the two of them standing together, the decision to not decide anything was made.

  *

  Later that night, Lux pushed her glasses on top of her head and sat in her mother’s chair across from her dad. He was reading Popular Science—she’d gotten him a three-year subscription for Christmas last year. The gift was sort of selfish on her part as she read every issue, but she always waited for him to finish them before she took it to her room.

  Blinking as her eyes adjusted, she tucked her hair behind both her ears. “Dad?” she said quietly.

  “Yeah?” He didn’t look up from the article.

  Lux waited, but he didn’t put down the magazine. She wasn’t loud like Stella or commanding like Ginger, nor super cute like Frost or charismatic like Robyn, and sometimes she felt as invisible as a kilobyte. “Dad.” She tapped his knee.

  “Yes?” This time his twinkling blue eyes focused on her, and Lux immediately dropped her gaze to the floor. Censoring herself, she lifted her gaze. She’d been working on making eye contact.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  “Honey, can you give us a couple weeks, maybe months, to get used to Ginger being married before I have to think about losing another daughter?”

  Lux twisted her lips as she tried to see all this from her dad’s point of view. “But Ginger and Joseph live here. You didn’t lose her.”

  Dad gave her one of his indulgent Santa smiles. “I’m not the number one man in her life anymore—that’s a loss that’s hard for any father to take.”

  “Oh.” She crossed her arms over her chest and hunched forward.

  “Honey, it’s not your fault. Goodness, you take on the world’s problems.” He patted her knee.

  “I know.” Putting her glasses back on, she sat up straighter but kept her arms in place. “Dad, I’ve examined the setup we have now. We aren’t equipped to handle a full dose of Christmas Magic.”

  “What’s your hypothesis?”

  “If we all get married, we’ll blow this place up.”

  “Solution?”

  “Install a substation.”

  “Electrical?”

  “Partially. Electricity, or light, travel at some speeds—Christmas Magic has that and others.”

  “Problems?”

  “I don’t have the knowledge to do this on my own.”

  Dad leaned back. “So get another degree.”

  “I don’t have time. We’re barely hanging in there with Ginger and Joseph together.”

  Dad leaned back and tapped his finger against his lips. “Is there someone we can consult with? Anyone who can teach you what you need to know?”

  Lux stuck her hands between her knees. “There is, but no one on earth has ever seen this stuff. He’d have to come here.”

  Dad blew out a heavy sigh. “Lux, there are limits.”

  She hung her head. Of all the people in the family, Santa would be the one to understand how important this is. Yet he was bound by the magic as much as anyone. Santa’s Village was invisible to the outside world. She could drop a person in the middle of it and unless they were tied to the magic by blood or by marriage, they wouldn’t see a thing. “I know.”

  “Draw up plans and take them down there.” He waved his hand towards the south. “We’ll do what we can. Maybe we can video chat during construction.”

  Lux nodded. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her cardigan as she left the room. Talking to Dad was the easy part—after all, her dad was Santa. Working with Quik would be the hard part. He was smart, too smart. And just as reserved as she was. Besides, when he was near, she felt that zap thing Ginger and Stella had talked about. If she wasn’t careful, she’d blow up the North Pole while trying to save it.

  Thank you for reading Marrying Miss Kringle: Ginger!

  Keep reading for a sample chapter from Blue Christmas: A Snow Valley Romance.

  Never fear, Lux’s story is coming soon. In the mean time, you may also enjoy these other Christmas romances from Lucy McConnell. Simply click on a title to learn more about the book.

  The Candy Counter Heiress

  Blue Christmas

  If you’d like to find out about the next book in the series, and receive some of my best recipes, click here to join my newsletter list. You’ll also be able to weigh in on covers, get insider information, and receive tips on everything from holiday decorating to simplifying laundry day.

  Other sweet romances by Lucy McConnell

  The Billionaire Marriage Broker Series

  Billionaire Marriage Broker’s weddings aren’t your typical arranged marriages. The owner, Pamela Jones, pairs couples with complementary needs and skills. Most of her couples fulfill their contracts and move on; but, if she has a good feeling about a match, romance ensues. Follow this modern-day fairy godmother as she brings together brides and grooms who find more than they were looking for in a BMB marriage.

  The Academic Bride

  The Organized Bride

  The Professional Bride

  The Country Bride

  The Protective Groom

  The Resilient Bride

  The Snow Valley Series

  Welcome to Snow Valley, Montana where ranchers and cowboys find love and romance in all seasons.

  Blue Christmas

  Love in Light and Shadow

  Romancing a Husband

  Excerpt from Blue Christmas

  A sweet Christmas romance from Lucy McConnell

  “NOTHING SAYS CHRISTMAS LIKE freezing your tail off while waiting for someone to turn on the lights,” said Paisley, her breath puffing in the air. She stomped her heavy boots on the already compacted snow trying to get some feeling back in her toes.

  “C’mon. You know you wouldn’t have it any other way,” said her brother, Sawyer. He bent over
the stroller to tuck the blanket in a little tighter around his baby girl.

  Paisley smiled down at her niece, Journey, wrapped in fluffy pink from head to toe and sleeping peacefully. Her adorable little nose was the same color as her pale pink blanket. The tiny vision had no idea they were about to kick off the Christmas season with a bang – literally.

  At eight o’clock on the dot, Snow Valley’s mayor would flip the switch to light up Main Street and the huge evergreen tree in the middle of town. Then Buster Write would set off his vintage WWI cannon two streets away, startling cattle all over the valley and scaring sheep dogs under front porches.

  “Do you think she’ll wake up?” asked Paisley.

  “Naw, if she can sleep through my drums, she can sleep through Buster’s Bang.”

  “The only reason she can sleep through your drums is because music runs in her veins,” said Amber as she squeezed through the crowd. She carried a cardboard cup holder with four steaming hot chocolates in one hand and had her four-year-old son, Peake, balanced on her left hip. As always, Amber looked every bit the rock star. Her clothes, from her high-heeled boots to her thick, fuzzy scarf, were edgy with just the right amount of class. If Paisley didn’t love her sister-in-law so much, she’d have to hate her for being so beautiful.

  Sawyer took his son in one arm and a hot chocolate cup with his other hand and stole a kiss from his wife that said he appreciated her look as well.

  Paisley made a face and Peake laughed.

  “Are we bugging you?” asked Sawyer.

  “Seriously, I think you two enjoy kissing in front of people.”

  “All the world’s a stage,” said Amber. She and Sawyer tapped their cups together and Paisley rolled her eyes.

  Amber distributed the cocoas, reminding Peake to wait for it to cool off. He blew into the hole in the lid, making an O with his lips. Amber pressed her hand to her heart as she melted at his adorableness. She asked Sawyer, “Do you think your mom and dad will come?”

  Sawyer shook his head. “Doubt it. Dad didn’t sound so good this morning.”

  Paisley looked around for her parents. Her dad threw out his back yesterday when he lifted the turkey from the oven. Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t ruined, but the day was one for the scrapbook.

  Dad ate standing up and mom pestered him to take a muscle relaxer and lay down.

  Paisley checked the time on her phone. Fifteen minutes to go. Anticipating the Christmas magic that sprang to life when the lights came on gave her the same thrill as waiting up for Santa had when she was a kid. In the winters, the sun went down long before 6:00 p.m. so the Parks and Rec. Agency set up fire barrels around the town square. Families gravitated together, then called out to friends and chatted as they waited for the official start of Snow Valley’s Christmas season.

  Breathing in the fresh pine scent coming from the twenty-foot tree, Paisley tipped her head back to see the stars. Everyone in town knew everybody else and sometimes the familiarity created problems, but tonight, under a blanket of winter stars and warmed by pine-fed fires, Yuletide goodwill permeated.

  Paisley checked her phone. Five minutes. If her parents were going to make it, they’d be here by now. She scanned the crowd to see if she could spot her mom’s bright blue parka – the one she’d had since Paisley was thirteen and was totally embarrassed that her mother would walk around in public in something so old-lady-ish. She did one last sweep and a movement caught her eye.

  One barrel over, a guy—a cute guy—in jeans and a designer coat, waved at her. Paisley’s heart stuttered and she ducked her head, tucking her dark mahogany hair behind one ear. The man’s blatant flirtation startled her. She took two quick breaths and dismissed the idea that he waved at her. She wore a thick coat and stocking hat. No way was she on her game tonight. He must have been trying to get someone else’s attention.

  She checked over her shoulder to see if anyone waved back, but the Petersons huddled close and stared at the small stage. Someone tapped the microphone and Paisley turned her attention to the front, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at being singled out.

  As Mayor Carl began a well-rehearsed speech on inviting the Spirit of Christmas to Snow Valley, Paisley let her eyes drift back to the stranger. He had to be just over six feet tall with wide shoulders. Dark hair peeked out from under his stocking hat and, heaven help her, curled up in the back. A hint of dark growth on his jaw gave him rugged appeal and Paisley wished she could see what color his eyes were. Please let them be brown.

  As if he heard her silent plea, he turned to answer by raising one eyebrow and producing a lazy grin with “come hither” written all over it. The firelight illuminated his face with a golden glow.

  Paisley jerked her attention back to the stage and sipped her cocoa to calm the butterflies in her stomach. They’re brown. Deep, dark, gorgeous brown.

  Dang.

  Dying to steal another look, Paisley forced herself to face forward, refusing to flirt with him. She didn’t know who he was, but she knew one thing, strangers never stayed in Snow Valley longer than it took to experience Christmas in the town that does Christmas best. After snowmobiling, a romantic ride on the Polar Express, and a few kisses in front of a roaring fire, they’d leave, taking your heart with them.

  Just as her resolve slipped away, the square lit up with Christmas joy and Paisley jerked at the cannon blast. Sawyer laughed at her, making some comment about jumping like a newbie. She smacked him in the arm, thankful to have something to focus on besides the man with the gorgeous eyes … and smile … and oh-my-gosh those curls. Paisley stomped her boots again, this time trying to jolt his brown eyes from her memory.

  As the crowd dispersed, Amber gathered their cups and took Peake to the nearest barrel to watch them burn. Someone called Sawyer’s name and both he and Paisley turned toward the voice. To Paisley’s horror, her handsome stranger headed right for them. She squatted down to check Journey’s blanket and hide the way her cheeks burned.

  “No way!” Sawyer grabbed the guy in a bear hug and pounded his back. “What are you doing here, man?”

  Obviously Sawyer knew this guy, which made Paisley even more embarrassed she’d thought he was flirting when he was just being neighborly. For the life of her, she could not put a name with the face. In a town this size, grouping people together as families was easy; but, this guy didn’t look like anyone she knew. Not that being a stranger was a bad thing, oh no, on him, individuality looked good. He probably thought she was a jerk for snubbing him. Well, she’d have to make up for her inhospitable behavior. Standing up, she put on her friendliest smile.

  “You remember my baby sister?” Sawyer said pointing at her.

  Thanks for the clue. She wracked her brain, sorting through her brother’s old friends, trying to put a name with the hot dish giving her his undivided attention. An old friend could be good—really good. Maybe he’d moved back to town after finishing school and would stay longer than Christmas. This had possibilities written all over it. Their eyes met once again and Paisley’s insides melted.

  “How could I forget our biggest fan?” He nudged her shoulder.

  Great, she was back to being “baby sister” material. Thanks a lot, Sawyer. She shot her brother a dirty look. So much for possibilities.

  “Clay?!” Amber shrieked and flung herself into the man’s arms.

  Clay. Clay? Paisley took a step back. “No way,” she said. Looking both ways to make sure no one had heard her. Paisley coughed into her mitten. She glared at Amber, wishing she didn’t feel so jealous of that hug.

  “You look positively transformed. What happened to the spikes and black lipstick?” asked Amber.

  Paisley wondered the same thing. The last time she’d seen Clay Jett he was a skinny seventeen-year-old with black spikes in his hair and a dog collar. The only member of her brother’s high school band to try and make a living with music, Clay headed west the day after graduation and hadn’t been seen since.

  The band didn’t h
old his success against him. Although, there were times when Paisley wondered if Sawyer and Amber envied Clay’s gumption. Of course, they sang whenever they got the chance, the national anthem at the 4th of July picnic, Pastor John’s Easter sermon, and no funeral was complete without Amber’s rendition of Amazing Grace. But, once they had kids, their family came first. They made parenting look like so much fun, Paisley couldn’t wait to have kids of her own. Not that she was in a hurry. All things in God’s time, as Pastor John would say.

  Paisley had seen Clay’s dad in town, but never thought to ask about his son. She ran her eyes up and down Clay, taking in the changes that were aaaaaall good. Even in snow clothes he looked amazing. Who knew there was so much yum under the black eyeliner and hair dye?

  Sawyer cleared his throat and warned Paisley with a look. She turned away and tried to act as though she hadn’t seen him. Sawyer had “advised” her not to date the guys in the band and Clay in particular.

  The warning came during her freshman year of high school. She and Sawyer were in the basement, a fresh plate of sugar cookies on the amp and Sawyer tapping his drum sticks against his thigh. Their dad gave permission for Sawyer to use the unfinished basement for band practice as long as he watched Paisley after school. The year she turned fourteen, a whole new set of rules came into play.

  “They aren’t bad guys, but they’re a lot older than you.”

  “They aren’t that much older. Sheesh. I’ve been hanging around them for four years. I know them just as well as I know you.”

  Well, most of them. Nobody knew Clay. He didn’t even hang out with the band at school. He just drifted through the halls in his shredded tshirts and ripped jeans.

  Clay’s choice in clothing never bothered Paisley, it was his empty eyes she stayed up late at night thinking about. The dullness went away when Clay played his guitar and she loved to see his eyes brighten – like watching the sun rise over fresh snow—the energy took her breath away.

  “We’re seniors and you’re a freshman. There’s a big difference.”

  Paisley walked around the room, going through her pre-practice checklist and ignoring Sawyer. She knew where the guys liked to stand and how tall Amber liked the mic. No matter what she did, the height always needed adjusting.