There was an elf in the hallway. He blinked several times. An elf?
Chapter Four
Carol grabbed ahold of Tinsel’s shoulder and pulled him back into the kitchen by the scruff of his green felt collar. “Get in here,” she hissed. “Quick, before anyone sees you.”
“What?” Tinsel objected. “Why are you acting like this? We’re here to help you.”
“Well it won’t help me if you’re seen,” Carol shot back. She threw up her hands. “Look, Tinsel, please go back out to the garage and wait with Jolly until everyone has gone to bed.”
“Rapz is here with us too,” Tinsel said, his voice suddenly a stage whisper.
“What?” Carol sounded frantic and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. The day had been long. She’d never lived in such a Christmas hostile environment. Acting casual about the holidays was proving to be exhausting. She closed her eyes for a second. Focus, Carol, she instructed herself. Breathe deeply. She was a seasoned professional who managed over twelve hundred elves, often under very hectic circumstances. She could handle this. “Rapz is a loose cannon. Why couldn’t he have just stayed in the wrapping department?”
“Nicholas said-”
“Nicholas?” Carol shook her head. So this was her brother’s doing, his idea of a joke. She should have known her father wouldn’t send a wrapper elf. Like all of Santa’s helpers, Rapz’s heart was in the right place. But he paid more attention to wearing just the right sun glasses and gold chains than he did to all the little details that were necessary to make Christmas magical. “Never mind what my brother said. I just need you three to stay out of sight until I can get everyone to sleep and the house is quiet.”
Tinsel winked, clearly finding the situation amusing. “Can do.”
“Miss Kane?” Ben’s voice called from the living room. “What’s going on in there?”
She cringed. Oh, holy holiday, had he heard Tinsel?
“I’ll be right there, Mr. Hanson,” she answered. She shooed Tinsel in the direction of the garage. “Just stay out of sight.” She turned back to the elf. “Go on. I’ll get them all upstairs and then I’ll come get you.”
As soon as Tinsel slipped into the garage, Carol headed toward the living room but she took only a few steps before she bumped straight into Ben Hanson.
“Owww.” Ben staggered backward and held up his good hand to keep Carol from coming any closer. “Who’s in the kitchen with you?”
“No one.” Carol reached out but he backed away.
“I heard voices.” Ben’s voice held an accusatory tone.
“Voices?” Carol shook her head. “The medicine must be playing tricks on you.” She tried to maneuver him back into the living room but he wouldn’t budge. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”
“No, I don’t want you to call the doctor.” He drew his brows together in an expression that was equal parts confusion and annoyance.
Ben’s frown, Carol decided, was rather attractive. She smiled. She couldn’t help herself.
“And just what is so funny?” Ben demanded.
“I always smile during the holidays,” Carol said. “Now, we really need to get you up to bed.” She gently turned him toward the staircase. “Let’s say goodnight to the children and then get you between the sheets.”
First he thought he saw an elf and now he was imagining that the new nanny was propositioning him. What exactly was in those painkillers?
He allowed Carol to guide him up the stairs but he stopped outside of his bedroom door. “Goodnight, then, Miss Kane.” He looked down into her upturned face with its expectant blue eyes. She appeared to be waiting for him to say something. “Umm…thank you. For your help today, I mean.”
“You’re welcome.” Carol reached right around him and turned the door handle. His bedroom door swung open. “In bed, Mr. Hanson. I’ll bring the children to say goodnight in just a moment.”
Ben took a step backward into his room. He hated to appear ungrateful but with all the time they’d spend in urgent care they still hadn’t had the chance to discuss her departure. And depart she must. Every time he looked into Carol’s eyes he felt like he was walking into a trap. A dangerous trap. He cleared his throat. “Miss Kane, there’s something I need-”
A resounding crash sounded from downstairs. “What the devil?” Ben took a step forward but Carol blocked the doorway.
“Didn’t you hear that?” he demanded.
“Hear what?”
“That loud crashing sound?”
Carol raised her eyebrows. “It was probably just a box that fell over. I’ll pop down and check if you like. I’m sure it’s nothing though.”
If it was nothing, Ben wondered, then why did he see a tiny flicker of something in her eyes? Surprise? Concern? And why did she keep glancing over her shoulder? “What’s going on?” he demanded.
Carol smiled her maddeningly reassuring smile. “Why don’t we get you ready for bed and I’ll nip downstairs to see what happened?”
Ben stared at her incredulously. He wasn’t one of her charges. He opened his mouth but clamped it shut just as quickly. He was tired. And the sooner the day was over the sooner he could send Miss Carol Kane on her way. It was easy to see how naturally good she was with the children, and she was an attractive young woman, he’d give her that. But, if the last twenty-four hours were any indication, he sensed that chaos followed this woman around. Closely.
“I don’t need any help,” he said. Yet she still stood there, watching him, her uncertainty palpable.
He shifted uncomfortably under her thoughtful gaze.
“Of course you do,” Carol finally said. She crossed the room and reached for his shirt buttons before he realized what she was doing.
“Miss Kane, if you don’t mind.” He tried to pull back but her grip on his shirt was too tight. He looked down. She was fumbling with his buttons. “Now wait just a moment, I assure you I am fully capable-”
“Nonsense,” she interrupted him. She undid the buttons on his shirt. “I’ll get you into bed, I’ll see to the children, and then I’ll straighten up downstairs. I’ve just the few decorations to put up.”
He trembled as Carol’s fingers brushed against his skin. Of all the fantasies he’d ever had, being alone is his bedroom with a nanny dominatrix wasn’t one of them. Good heavens, the door was open, his children were down the hall, and the young woman undressing him was as wholesome as, well, Christmas.
“I don’t want the house overrun with tinsel and Christmas paraphernalia,” Ben protested as Carol slid his shirt off his good arm first and then, tenderly, over his injured arm. “Did you hear me?” He knew he sounded peevish, he could hear it. He hated being this out of control.
“Yes, I heard you but Christmas and paraphernalia are two words that don’t belong in the same sentence. Now where do you keep your pajamas?”
“Top right dresser drawer.” Self-conscious didn’t begin to describe how he felt standing shirtless in the middle of his bedroom with a woman he barely knew. He watched her take out several pairs of pajamas and neatly set them aside. What was she looking for? “Any pair will do. The ones on the top are fine.”
Carol turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you have a Christmas pair?”
“A Christmas pair of what?”
“Never mind, we’ll just add it to the list.” She shook out a blue plaid flannel top. “Slip your arm in, easy does it.” She deftly helped him ease his good arm into the other sleeve. “Now stand still so I can button this up.”
“I can button it myself,” he protested. “And I can get into the bottoms without any help.”
Carol raised an eyebrow. “Really? That should be interesting to see.”
Ben stared down at her. Her eyes were the most amazing shade of blue. Disconcertingly blue. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling.
“Okay, you can help me,” he conceded. “Just with the top, I mean.” He wanted to be alone so he could regain his equilibrium but there
were limits, for heavens sake.
“Thank you, now stand still.”
He wished she’d hurry with her ministrations because the effect she was having on him was unnerving. He waited impatiently while Carol buttoned his pajama top. She took his sling from the bed and set his arm in it so gently that he felt only a little pain.
“It’s not quite right,” she said. “Let me retie it.”
“Just leave it,” Ben grumbled, “It’s fine.”
Carol stood back, head cocked to the side, and studied his sling. “It’s not fine. It’s crooked and I can’t seem to get it right.” She reached her arms up around his neck. “Can you bend forward a little, Mr. Hanson? I can’t reach quite reach the knot.”
Just to get it over with, Ben did as he was told. He heard the shrill ring of the land line from the table in the hall. He almost asked Carol to answer it but stopped himself. There was no one he wanted to talk to. Not in the mood he was in.
“I’ve got it loose,” Carol said. “Now just hold still while I re-tie the knot.”
Hold still? Where was he going to go? He was all but hugging Carol. If he moved an inch to left his nose would be buried in her hair. Against his better judgment, he closed his eyes and inhaled. She smelled of roses with just a hint of pine, he thought.
“There you are, all set,” Carol stood back and looked up at him. “Winter Rose.”
“What?”
“My perfume, it’s called Winter Rose.”
He searched her face. She looked the picture of pure innocence.
“Your perfume? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally managed to say.
“Okay, let’s just go with that then.” She stepped back and surveyed the room. “Will you need another blanket, do you think?”
“I don’t need help getting into bed.” Ben started to cross his arms over his chest but winced when he tried to lift his arm. He frowned at Carol. “You’re fussing and it’s unnecessary and annoying.”
“If you say so, Mr. Hanson.”
Ben watched as she pulled back the covers on the left side of his bed. He wanted her out of his bedroom before he grew any more uncomfortable. The sight of her plumping his pillows was almost too much for him. “I sleep on the other side of the bed.”
“Sorry.” Carol went around to the right side and pulled back the covers, shook out his pillow and stood back. “I want you in bed now.”
Ben opened his mouth to respond but froze when he heard his daughter’s voice behind him.
“He’s too busy to talk to you, Grandma.”
Ben slowly turned. He’d forgotten that the phone rang only moments before. And now Hillary stood in the doorway, her ratty pink tutu over her red thermal pajamas, the cordless phone up against her ear. She smiled at him but ignored his outstretched hand.
“What’s he doing?” Hillary cocked her head and looked first at Carol and then at him. “I’m not entirely sure but I think the new nanny is trying to get him into bed.”
Chapter Five
“Daddy looked so mad last night,” Hillary said between bites of her star shaped sugar cookie. “Are you certain that we’re allowed to eat these for breakfast?”
Cookie half way to her mouth, Carol paused. “Why ever not?”
The children exchanged startled glances. It was Hillary who answered, “Because children aren’t supposed to eat cookies for breakfast.”
“Didn’t you know that?” Patrick asked, his brow knit into a frown that was so much like his father’s that it made her smile. Patrick eyed her thoughtfully. “Did your mother really let you eat cookies for breakfast?”
“Let us? She insisted.” Carol dunked her gingerbread man into her milk and did her best to ignore the wave of homesickness that washed over her. “Now, tell me what you think of the decorations.”
“I love them!” Hillary beamed. “When I came downstairs this morning I thought I was in the wrong house. I’ve never seen so much sparkle in my life. I love all of the red and green everywhere.”
High praise from a child who wore a pink tutu all the time.
“What about you Patrick?” Carol asked. “What do you think of the decorations?”
“It’s fun. Did you do it all yourself?” he asked.
Carol nodded. She ignored a pang of guilt for taking all of the credit. It wasn’t as if she could tell the children that she’d had the help of three elves. Rapz had volunteered to bake and he’d happily beatboxed in the kitchen while whipping up trays of cookies, tins of Christmas fudge and a cherry strudel for each neighbor in the cul-de-sac. Meanwhile, Tinsel and Jolly had done a beautiful job stringing strands of garland and white lights through evergreen boughs.
They’d had the foresight to bring holiday themed place mats and napkins to liven up both the dining and kitchen tables, as well as candlesticks and ornaments to hang from the light fixtures. Carol had seen to setting out an entire ceramic winter village, complete with cotton ball snow drifts, on every available surface in the family room.
They’d worked into the early morning hours and she’d been grateful for the cheerful company. But when the stockings were hung and the cookies packed away in their tins, she had barely been able to stand watching her three good-natured helpers leave. Not wanting to be alone amidst so much cheer, she’d gone to bed, only to find an envelope on her pillow. She’d immediately recognized her father’s handwriting and torn open the envelope.
My dear Carol,
Your mother and I miss you! Your brother is finding it hard to fill your cheerful and capable shoes (he’d never admit it though!). I know you miss us too but take heart because your assistance there is a great gift to all the children who find joy in believing in the story of Santa. Joy is the greatest gift we can give any child, remember that. You’re in my heart, dear daughter, always. See you in Maui on the 27th!
Love,
Daddy
“What’s wrong with Miss Kane?” Patrick’s voice sounded as if it were coming through a snow storm.
“Maybe it’s sugar shock,” Hillary sounded worried.
Carol shook her head. “I’m fine. I was just daydreaming. Now what were we talking about?”
“Patrick asked if you did all of the decorating by yourself?” Hillary repeated patiently.
“Of course, I did,” Carol said. “Who else would have helped me?”
Hillary shrugged. “We thought maybe Daddy woke up and came downstairs to help you.”
“No, your father was asleep all evening.” Carol had checked several times but he hadn’t so much as rolled over, fortunately for her. The children had slept the night through as well. Maybe sleeping soundly was a Hanson family trait.
It was a shame that Ben wasn’t as friendly, open minded, or fun as his children had turned out to be. She knew she should go upstairs to check on him and see if he needed any help but the look on his face last night when he’d ordered her out of his room hadn’t suggested that he was in a particular hurry to see her again.
“Do you think Daddy is terribly angry still?” Hillary asked.
Carol shook her head. “Of, course not. I don’t think he was angry at all. I think his arm just hurt and he was grumpy.”
Both children nodded, satisfied with her answer.
“What are we going to do today?” Patrick asked.
Carol couldn’t help but return their bright smiles. She’d never spent much time with children but she could see now that she’d missed out on some serious fun.
“First I suggest we get our coats and boots on and head outside to make a proper snowman. Then we need to plan how and where to put all the lights we bought yesterday. Are you two any good at climbing trees?”
“We’re like monkeys,” Patrick assured her.
“Wonderful, as long you’re talking about the kind of monkeys that can string lights.” She grinned when they giggled. Her father was right, the holiday really was all about children. Or should be. A sudden understanding of what her father wanted her to do dawned
on her. Beyond Bah Humbug her left foot. Ben Hanson, however handsome and charming she knew he could be, however sensitive and intelligent he was, had no right to ruin Christmas for an untold number of children with a book full of outright lies.
Santa did exist. Of course, she couldn’t use her lineage as proof but she’d figure something out.
“After we’ve got the lights up we can deliver some baked goods to your neighbors.”
“Why?” Hillary asked. Patrick looked just as curious as his sister.
“Because it’s Christmas time, because it’s the neighborly thing to do. And,” Carol paused, trying to decide just how much to tell the children about her plans. Oh, for the love of fir trees, if she couldn’t trust two innocent children, she couldn’t trust anyone. “I was thinking we could invite the neighbors over for a…gathering.”
“A gathering?” Patrick asked.
“A party,” Hillary told him before looking at Carol with wonder in her eyes. “You mean a Christmas party here at the house? With the neighbors?”
“Well, yes, of course we can invite the neighbors but we don’t have to stop there. What about your father’s work friends? We can invite everyone from his office too.”
“But we don’t know their names,” Patrick objected.
“Does your father have an address book?”
“Couldn’t we use his contact list from his tablet?”
“Tablet, of course,” Carol hadn’t thought of that. She’d wrapped plenty of them but didn’t quite know how they worked. “Do you think you could figure out how to get the names?”
Hillary managed to stop just short of scoffing at her. “Yeah, I’m eight. Of course I can.”
Carol nodded. “Good. Now I’m going to need lots of help to make this the best party ever. Are you sure you like the idea?”
Their ensuing squeals of delight assured her they did. She lifted a hand to request permission to speak. Once granted she asked them the question that had been weighing on her mind, choosing her words extra carefully. “The whole point of throwing this party is to help your father get into the holiday spirit. So, do you think he might enjoy the party a bit more if we included him in the planning or if it were a total surprise?”
Miss Kane's Christmas : A Christmas Central Romantic Comedy Novella Page 3
