by Candace Sams
****
Pru checked her route over and over again, and went through the routine of helping the other Elves finalize packaging and putting last minute touches on toys and gifts. As soon as she got to her tiny, temporary room over the Elves’ main work area and saw the red union book on her dressing table, tears filled her eyes. She grabbed it up and held it against her chest. Work had kept her mind off things for all this time. At least, that was the case until Mrs. Claus decided to interfere with her personal life by inflicting Gavin into it again.
He never cared about me. If he had, he wouldn’t have slept with those women while she was working her butt off to get to the top of her profession. How could any man swear he loved a woman and do what Gavin had?
“Simple, you stupid, naive Elf…he lied. He got bored with you. And when you weren’t around, he found some other women to lie with,” she whispered.
There was no apology any man could make for cheating. Pru didn’t want to hear his excuses now any more than she had then. She didn’t even want to see him but had no choice. It both angered and frightened her that he could shake her self-control after all this time.
Prepared to have the worst Christmas Eve of her entire life, she showered, put on her nightshirt, and got into bed. It was almost dawn before she finally fell asleep with tears still on her cheeks.
By the time she made her way to the loading docks the next day it was nearly three o’clock. Pru almost hoped Gavin wouldn’t make an appearance, but he showed up at the last minute—wearing a long cape with an attached hood. He was driving his team carefully but looked like something out of an Edgar Allan Poe novel instead of a bringer of Yuletide cheer. She snorted. Gavin was the only person wearing all black. “How appropriate,” she uttered.
“What’s that?” a strong feminine query prompted.
Pru turned at the sound of the familiar tone. Mrs. Claus stood watching her like a hawk with its eyes on a rabbit dinner. “I was just saying how appropriate the weather is,” she lied.
“Yes, it’ll be quite cold after this snow clears.” Clarinda moved closer. “I trust you and Gavin have worked things out?”
“We’ll be fine, Mrs. Claus. Gavin says I just need to tell him where to go. And I fully intend to.” She kept a smile plastered on her face even as the great lady studied her for a moment longer. The last thing she needed was more quizzing by the boss.
“Don’t let me down, dear,” Clarinda warned. “That route is a very critical one. Parts of it are dangerous. You informed Gavin about it, didn’t you?”
“Um, I offered him the union book and mentioned the chapters on handling expedient circumstances,” Pru prevaricated.
“Good. I’ll see you after you get back.”
When Mrs. Claus was about to walk away, Pru caught up with her and put one hand on the older woman’s arm to stop her. “Mrs. C, why did you put Gavin and me together?”
“Maybe I’m an old fool, but I was hoping something of the season would rub off on you both.” She arched one brow, shook her head in what could have been a sign of sadness, and squared her shoulders before speaking.
“Prudence, every year I watch you arrive back in town, determined to work yourself into the ground. You seem to take great pleasure in remaining aloof; never partying with your friends―even when there’s time to do so. You insist on finishing your shift and summarily head straight back to that little room over the toy warehouse. Every year finds a repeat of the same, ambitious schedule where you’re concerned. You’re always too busy. And while I can’t fault a motivated nature, I see nothing resembling a gay, cheerful Elf in you.”
She glanced at Gavin. “He’s been whiling away his nights with women who couldn’t give a figgy pudding about him. The Snow Fairies with whom he’s supposed to be cavorting aren’t capable of caring about anyone. At least, his involvement with them is certainly well circulated in some circles,” Clarinda confirmed. “Still…something about his womanizing never rang true. I’ve tried to get him angry enough to defend himself, but he won’t,” Clarinda admitted. “Don’t either of you see what you’re doing?”
“I-I don’t understand.”
Clarinda tied her cape more tightly about her shoulders. “That’s exactly what I’m hoping will change. There should be a little more understanding and a little less bitterness surrounding the two of you.”
“I’m not bitter! I’m over it,” Pru protested in embarrassment, but watched Mrs. Claus walk away even as the words were spoken. She glanced around, hoping no one heard her pathetic assertion. Thankfully, everyone was so busy that they had little time to pay attention to any conversation not having to do with loading the sleighs. Inconveniently, Gavin drove his team up to the dock just as she was trying to get her self-control back.
“Are you ready, Miss Berry?”
She calmly nodded, ignored his offhanded tone, and turned to speak to the loading chief. “Number 343. It’s the package group up next,” she instructed when she had the chief’s attention.
“Yes ma’am. 343 it is,” the chief replied.
Efficient as her system was meant to be, Pru still directed movement as the crew chief and some other Elves under his supervision brought out the flats of packages to be loaded into her sleigh. She kept her gaze on the business at hand and off the tall, black-clad driver. Checking once more to see that the packages were evenly distributed so the weight wouldn’t hinder the reindeer, she finally climbed into the front of the sleigh—the right hand side.
****
Double-checking what the loaders had done wasn’t met with disapproval or insult, so Gavin took his time walking around the sleigh before deciding they’d proficiently completed their job. It was a task he knew was due in no small part to his work companion for the evening.
It had been Pru’s idea to efficiently organize the entire loading process over the years. While he couldn’t fault her logistic capabilities, her love of her work had superceded everything else in her life—including their relationship. Old bitterness welled up inside him, but he quickly tamped it down. By now, they could have been into seven years of marriage and might have had sons and daughters with whom to frolic on Christmas morning.
Instead he was reduced to hearing rumors of his having wallowed with some woman who wouldn’t remember his name the next day. Since it was a few of Pru’s family and friends who insisted on spreading some of those lies, he’d had one hell of a job keeping his mouth shut.
Gavin kept reminding himself over and over again to do just that. Let Pru complain or put up that sanctimonious stony wall of silence she used to build when they were a couple and at the end of their relationship. It didn’t matter. He’d just look on this Christmas Eve as a lost cause and hope for a better one next year.
He finally glanced at her. “Ready?”
“Let’s go. I’ll navigate for you,” she offered and pulled her sparkling pink gumdrop-shaped GPS from her hip pocket. “This GPS system is one that anybody on Earth could purchase and operate,” she said, warming up to her mandatory recitation of the rules. “However…we’ll be out of North Pole Cellular range soon. Our phones only operate under the same magic shield of invisibility that encompasses our Pole domain. That means cellular contact will be non-existent the farther we travel from home.” She glanced at him to make sure he was listening to her spiel. “The use of cellular devices―such as those the rest of the world utilizes―are prohibited. It’s too easy for some paranoid types in the world to tap in on the conversations,” she instructed.
“Yeah, and all trays must be in their fully upright and locked positions; the flight attendants will be making a pass through the cabin to make sure all the overhead bins are securely shut and any carry-on items are stowed under the seats directly in front of us,” he sarcastically droned. “I know all this crap, Pru―”
She ignored him and kept on reciting. “Union rules prohibit any smoking on the sleighs; there’s a Polar fine of five-thousand Elf Credits and the loss of any future flying
privileges if anyone tampers with the on-board smoke detectors. Is that clear? Do I need to repeat anything?”
Gavin rolled his eyes, pressed his lips together and silently prayed for patience. It only took a gentle flick of the reins to move the deer forward. He couldn’t help but notice how cold the wind already was. But there was nothing more frigid than an old spot in his heart at that moment. And Pru’s behavior wasn’t helping the situation one bit.
It was exactly eight years ago to the night that he’d first met her. She’d been invited to a party of mutual friends. He’d showed up after the sleighs were loaded and gone, looking to have a holiday drink with some of his buds. And there she’d stood like a little gem in her emerald green Grecian-backed gown and high sparkling stiletto heels. She’d pinned a bit of mistletoe in her clipped, red-brown curls; kept in short Elfin-fashion at the time, as she later told him, for the sake of expediency.
When they were introduced, he’d taken advantage of her upturned face to lean down and kiss her cheek. She’d pretended to be affronted, but had laughed after he’d apologized and explained that the quick peck was due to the mistletoe in her locks. He remembered the first words out of her sweet mouth. Lovely memories almost overcame his sadness.
Chapter Five
“I don’t usually come to these events as I’m quite busy, but I certainly know who you are,” she admitted. “You’re Gavin Frost, the sleigh maker. They say there isn’t anyone who can work a forge the way you can.”
“And I hear that you’re the Elf who’s going to organize the entire North Pole.”
“I am.”
“Something tells me you can do it.” He looked her over and found himself yearning to run his hands down her back and let them linger where the fabric of her gown wasn’t covering her soft-looking shoulders.
“Can I buy you a drink, sleigh maker?” she asked as she smiled up at him. ”Maybe we can exchange some ideas about efficiency.”
“I’m all for a drink to ring in the holiday. And I’ll talk about anything you like. But only if you call me Gavin. I’m not into titles.”
“Then call me Pru.”
She held out her hand to shake and he took it, shocked to the very core when their first touch caused a shaft of heat to course up his arm. A flash in her pale, silvery-blue eyes hinted she felt that same sensation. In that instant, he knew there’d never be another woman for him. She’d enchanted, bewitched, and won him in the space of a few moments―all with a lovely smile and the shimmer in her exotic-colored eyes.
“Hey…you know something?” he ridiculously uttered.
“What?” she whispered back.
“You’ve got freckles.”
She grinned up at him. “Does that matter?”
“Not at all. In fact, I was just thinking how damn much I like ‘em,” he joyfully responded and then kept her by his side for the rest of the night and for every dance tune the Imp Yule Orchestra played.
In fact, some hours later they were still in each other’s arms, swaying to music that was no longer audible to anyone but them. The maitre d’ of the Snowbank Hotel had tactfully asked them to vacate the Starlight Yule Ballroom. They’d left, with their arms wrapped around each other, purchased a dozen donuts at the Gnometown Diner, and then watched the Christmas sun come up over a sparkling panorama of white landscaped forest.
Everything after that had seemed so wonderful. He’d asked her to marry him only a few short weeks afterward, and she’d jumped into his embrace, happily agreeing to be his wife. Joining their lives had seemed so right—so inevitable. They’d seemed so…at one…with each other. It was as if he’d found the soul mate he’d been searching for. What they’d had at first was the purest, most wonderful form of love. They’d had friendship and trust.
But then…work got in the way. Gavin wasn’t sure what had happened, he only knew he couldn’t change her need to toil or his need of her. The incident that had finally doomed them came filtering back into his brain though he tried to tamp the harsh memory down.
He’d mused a thousand times after the breakup that―if only he’d refused the invitation to that party-he’d have never met her. But one glance at her even now and his gut told him that any time he’d had with Pru was better than never having known her. It was all he could do to keep from lifting one hand, reaching out, and touching the long mass of chestnut hair filtering off her shoulders in the breeze. The starlight caused her mane―the part that flowed down from her peaked Elfin cap―to look like silken, russet waves. Perhaps she’d found enough time to let it grow and manage the mass. Having done so, it certainly looked amazing. And that same light from the heavens danced in her eyes, though the expression in them was still as cold as any arctic blast.
Sadly, seven years hadn’t diminished their anger. It seemed now that they couldn’t even be friends.
That was the depressing way some things just happened. He’d seen her that night and wanted her from the first moment. He’d wanted to believe she’d needed him right back, but time had revealed another tale. Her work came first and always would.
As for his life…his family moved far to the north after his father retired and left him the chief designer. According to rumors, even some of Pru’s extended family had stopped inviting her to any holiday functions as she claimed she was always too busy. He remembered the Berry’s kind offers for him to join them had stopped when Pru broke off their engagement. It was either assumed he wouldn’t accept their invitations, or he wasn’t welcome in their home because of the breakup.
Still, all Prudence Berry cared about was her job. He wondered if there was anything on Earth or in heaven that would make her reevaluate her priorities. Even if there was, it was clear they had no place together. Clearly…the feelings on her side were all dead.
Gavin kept driving south. All he had to do was get through the night, go home, and forget this evening ever happened. He’d have a bitter taste in his mouth knowing that forgetting this night would be so much easier for her. But he’d survive.
“Come on, Orion. Pick up the pace,” he gently coaxed his lead deer.
****
Pru used the hood of her green cloak to hide her face. She kept glancing at Gavin and noted, with sadness, his expression was totally blank. Either he was bored or he just didn’t give a damn about this trip. What did she expect? What had he ever found interesting about her…an Elf with freckles.
She lifted her chin. “Keep heading south until you hit the Canadian wilderness. Then we’ll be heading southeast.”
“Whatever you say.”
Pru swore to herself that Mrs. Claus was never going to interfere in her life again. Christmas Eve should have been a time for wonder and joy. She’d always loved delivering the packages. Forever after this, the season would never be as gay. She kept her gaze straight ahead as they drove into the night.
Chapter Six
For hours, Gavin kept his silence and noted she seemed more comfortable because of it. As the temperature dropped, however, he began to notice her trembling. She kept her gloved hands clasped together and blew into them often. Finally unable to sit by and watch her shiver any longer, he looped the reins over a peg welded onto the front sleigh wall, reached under the seat and brought out a very thick throw rug. Without asking permission, he proceeded to place it over her lap. Then he reached for the thermos of hot chocolate behind his booted feet.
****
Pru pulled the rug closer and tucked it around her legs. There was no need to be nasty about the kind act, even if Gavin was the one performing it. She even accepted the mug of hot chocolate he handed her. “Thanks. I brought some food to eat and hot tea if you want any. It’s right behind me,” she offered. “I should have dove into my lunchbox sooner, but I was too cold to move.”
“Wasn’t there anything in that big red book of yours about bringing along a heavy blanket?”
“Yes…there is. Mine is behind the seat.”
Gavin shook his head in exasperation. He knew sh
e’d rather sit there freezing than show any sign of what she’d deem a weakness. Toward the end of their relationship, she’d been nothing if not stoic. “You’re still the same,” he quipped, immediately regretting not enforcing his vow to stay quiet.
She glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, Pru. It’s gonna be a very cold night. We’re flying at about three thousand feet, and the air at this altitude is particularly glacial. You need to stay warm.”
She looked away from him. “Is that actual concern I detect in your voice, or are you just afraid you might have to do some work if I get too cold?”
He took a deep breath, silently counted to ten and finally turned to look at her. “Why can’t we just call a truce, all right?”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” he echoed.
After another half hour of silent flying, Pru checked her GPS again. “There’s a village ahead. That’s our first stop.” She looked down at her right side. Hanging off her black leather belt was a green velvet bag. In it was the one thing no Elf would ever be without on Christmas Eve…her magic dust.”
“Got enough of that to go around?” he asked.
“Of course I do. I’m not stupid, Gavin. I know what I’m doing.”
He rolled his eyes and wondered if there was one single thing he could say that wouldn’t set off an argument. But patience regarding his silent vigil was wearing thin. He knew she believed she had every right to hate him, but carrying around that much anger for so long was evidently taking its toll. His ex fiancé appeared to have become a first-class bitch.
He pulled in the team at the edge of town, and the deer lightly touched down on a stretch of sparkling, unmarked snow. The sleigh slid easily up to an old-fashioned log cabin where the lights were on but turned very low.
Pru turned in her seat, discarded the throw rug, and reached for a purple bag filled with gifts. “Follow me, stay quiet, and do as I say.”
