The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!

by Christy Barritt

  “Chad! Sierra! You’re back,” Paula said, meeting us at the van. “You’re just in time for the magic.”

  “The magic?” I questioned, stuffing my hands into my pockets before she noticed them trembling.

  She grinned. “That’s right. We’re doing our light test.”

  “I can’t believe you have time to put this up just a few days before Christmas.” Everywhere I looked there were cords and strings of lights and lawn ornaments and everything else you could possibly think of pertaining to Christmas. It was quite the undertaking.

  “Oh, don’t be silly. A lot of it we leave up all year. But there are a few things we have to put up at the last minute. Otherwise, the sun and wind would ruin it. Still, it’s a huge task—at times an overwhelming one. But it’s worth it to see the smiles on the children’s faces.”

  “You ready, Paula?” Uncle Paul yelled from around the side of the house.

  “Ready, Paul!” she hollered over her shoulder.

  Just then, the lights came on. I let out a little gasp as white pinprick-sized bulbs sprinkled the trees above me. Christmas music—“White Christmas,” to be specific—crooned through the overhead speakers. Animatronic bears began ice skating on a fake pond within spitting distance.

  “You’re right. This is magical,” I whispered, my neck craned back so I could get a better view.

  Paula grinned. “See, I told you. We’re not even done yet. Now, let’s go inside for a minute. I bet you guys haven’t had anything to eat and that’s simply unacceptable.”

  I could only imagine what dinner might hold. My gut feeling was a lot of meat. And cheese. Maybe even warm milk and cookies made with eggs.

  I didn’t want to be impolite. I really didn’t. But I didn’t know how I would gracefully get out of this one. Of course, I’d brought nuts with me and some apples. Pulling those out during dinner wouldn’t help my likability factor, though.

  We sat down, and Grandma ladled out some beef vegetable soup. The savory scent made my stomach grumble. I could eat around the beef, I decided. It was the lesser of the evils around me—both morally and socially.

  After we prayed, we dug in. Unfortunately, Chad and I were the only ones eating, which meant Grandma and Aunt Paula had the opportunity to watch our every move—or should I say, our every bite?

  As I sipped on the warm, salty broth, my gaze kept going toward the reindeer head hanging on the wall in the living room, which was within eyesight of where I sat at the table. How could someone who proclaimed to love reindeer so much stuff one and use him as a decoration? It made no sense to me.

  “You looking at St. Nick over there?” Paula asked, following my gaze.

  I felt my cheeks heat as I nodded. I only hoped my thoughts hadn’t been transparent. “I am.”

  Paula pressed her lips together, suddenly looking somber. “He was a great reindeer. Our first. He was so good with the kids. When he died, I couldn’t imagine just burying him, so we had him stuffed. This way, it’s like he’s always here with us.”

  “So, it’s a little . . . memorial to him, I guess.”

  Paula nodded and set a basket of freshly baked rolls from the oven in the middle of the table. My mouth watered. They looked and smelled so tasty. Something about this pregnancy was making me not want to be a vegan anymore. I could only imagine the reactions of people at my work if they found out I’d started eating animals, though. They’d never let me live it down. They may even lynch me, right before telling me to look for a new job.

  No one liked a hypocrite.

  “As soon as we finish up, I thought maybe we could have a fire. Marshmallows, anyone?” Grandma said. “It will be just like old times.”

  Marshmallows? They sounded wonderful, especially toasted over an open fire.

  But marshmallows were made of gelatin, and gelatin was made from boiling the bones of cows and pigs. In other words, the sweet treat was off limits. Sometimes convictions required sacrifice.

  Sometimes, if I were totally honest, I resented the sacrifice.

  “We can have fun all we want tonight, Grandma.” Aunt Paula frowned. “But I won’t have any peace, not until my precious reindeer are back here.”

  Chapter Seven

  That night, after everyone had finished working, eaten dinner, and nibbled on Christmas sweets, we all gathered around the fireplace. Uncle Paul pulled out his guitar and we sang Christmas carols like “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” and “Silent Night.” A couple of people from town who were “practically family” joined us. I’d realized after only being here a short time that half the people in town were “practically family” to the Davises. I thought that inclusion was a good quality to have, though. Refreshing, really.

  As Uncle Paul sang in a rich tenor, the mellow sound of the acoustic guitar soothed me. I couldn’t sing worth a lick, but I moved my lips, wishing I could carry a tune. Occasionally, a few lyrics escaped from me, almost as if Christmas spirit was a happy, joy-filled virus that spread through the house. Chad tucked his arm around me and endorphins warmed my heart.

  This was going to be a perfect Christmas.

  “You’re glowing, you know,” Grandma said when Uncle Paul put away the guitar and the conversations around us turned smaller and more intimate. “I can already tell that motherhood is going to suit you.”

  “I hope so.” I realized too late that I’d said the words aloud, and I gulped, hoping she wouldn’t judge me.

  “Oh, Sierra, my dear. Every new mother has those kinds of fears. The fact that you’re worried about it is usually a signal that you’re going to be a great mother. Worrying shows you care.”

  I smiled, her words bringing a wave of peace over me. “Thanks, Grandma.”

  Her bony, wrinkled hand squeezed mine. “I’m just so thrilled to see that Chad is so happy. That says a lot about you, Sierra. I knew it would take someone really special to capture his heart.”

  Before I could get choked up—which I was well on my way to doing—Paula sat on the other side of me and thrust a fresh mug of hot chocolate in my hands. I really needed to let her know I was a vegan, but the words just wouldn’t leave my lips. It was strange, because I usually proclaimed my viewpoints from the mountaintops. Was I losing my passion? Or was I just growing up and learning to be more temperate?

  “Christmas is all about family,” Paula said with a content smile. “Isn’t this just wonderful? We’re here, celebrating each other and celebrating the birth of Christ. It doesn’t get any better.”

  “I have to agree.”

  Her smile slipped. “The only thing that makes my heart heavy is my poor reindeer. I just can’t believe they’re gone. I have to stop myself from thinking worst-case scenarios. It messed with my Christmas mojo.”

  “How long have the reindeer been a part of your life?”

  She stared into the fire. “For the last seven years. Animal control found them abandoned in the next county. Someone was trying to raise them, but ran out of money and left everything behind. We adopted them. We had the space here—plenty of wide open fields and shelter. They’ve been a joy to us.”

  “So, you rescued them?” I stated, my heart softening.

  Perhaps I’d too quickly judged. It wouldn’t be the first time—or the last, unfortunately.

  “In a way, they rescued us,” Aunt Paula continued. “They’ve given us something to look forward to. When we adopted them, our oldest daughter had just moved out, and Paul and I were feeling the strain of empty nest. Those little darlings gave us new life.” She laughed and shook her head, her gaze connecting with mine. “I sound crazy, don’t I?”

  “No, you don’t. Animals have a way of cheering people up. We can bond with them in ways that are unexpected.” I knew that better than anyone. Cats had been my sanity while growing up with two parents who worked too much. My feline friends had been the ones who’d accepted me without judgment, something I’d desperately needed.

  “Yes, it’s true. I sure do hope they’re okay. The
only thing that’s stopping me from going crazy is thinking about the joy of the children when they see the lights here. I have to go on with this Light Extravaganza for their sake.”

  “I think it’s really great what you do for the community,” I told her.

  “I really think I get so much out of other people’s joy that I’m the one being a little selfish.” She laughed at herself again before standing. “Anyway, we’re going to go make some pies. It’s the only thing we sell during the show, but we do it for a good cause. We always give the money to a needy family in the area.”

  I hesitated briefly, visions of butter and milk and eggs dancing in my head. I did have a great recipe for my specialty acorn brownies, one that required none of those animal byproducts. However, I didn’t think anyone would go for the idea.

  Finally, I decided to roll with it. “That sounds great, Paula.”

  It wasn’t until I got in bed later that night that I realized Chad had started to tell me something earlier, right before we’d seen the deer in the road and nearly crashed.

  I wondered what it was. As he let out a snore beside me, I sighed.

  I guessed I’d find out soon enough. But I wouldn’t wake him from his slumber now.

  The next morning, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The light show started tonight, and I desperately wanted to find the reindeer for Paul and Paula. It was important to them, so for that reason, it was important to me, also. Plus, I didn’t like wondering where the poor creatures were and if they were okay. They deserved to be safe and cared for.

  Last night had solidified my resolve. Being with Chad’s relatives made me feel like I was a part of something, something greater than my animal rights organization even. It made me feel like I was a part of a loving family. I hadn’t realized how much I desired that acceptance until now.

  Professionally speaking, I was outspoken and nervy. But relationally, I was private and often reserved. It took a lot for me to let people get beyond my walls and see the real me. I found myself wanting that unconditional love of family now. Maybe it was the baby. Maybe it was the fact that my own family was just now on the mend after years of tension. I wasn’t sure.

  Whatever the reason, right after breakfast, Chad and I went to pay a visit to the Nimbles again. This time, there was an old truck parked in the driveway. I took that as a good sign and hoped for the best. Maybe we’d finally find some answers.

  As we knocked at the door and waited, an odd smell drifted out from inside the home.

  “What is that?” I whispered to Chad, not certain if I should turn my nose up or pull out a fork.

  “Greens,” Chad said.

  “Greens?”

  “You know, collard greens.”

  I’d tried a lot of vegetables in my life, but never collards. “They smell . . . awful.”

  “They actually taste pretty good, especially with some pepper vinegar and raw onions on top.”

  Just then, a woman pulled the door open. She looked like she’d seen better days. Dark circles hung underneath her eyes, her hair looked like it hadn’t been combed, and her clothing was stained and ill-fitted. I wasn’t a hugger, but instantly wanted to pull the woman into my arms and tell her everything would be okay.

  “Can I help you?” She kept one hand on the door like she might slam it at any minute.

  Chad looked at me, leaving the ball in my court. I told him earlier that I would handle this. He was always great for back up though, for when my mouth or my opinions got me in trouble. I loved it that he let me be myself, even in uncomfortable situations.

  Such as this one.

  “Hi, I’m Sierra and I’m staying next door with the Davis family. It seems their reindeer have gone missing, and we wondered if you knew anything about it. Since you live so close, we thought maybe you’d seen something.”

  She blinked several times before speaking, her voice absent of emotion. “You think I stole some reindeer?”

  I shifted. I’d thought my words had been especially careful and non-judgmental. “I didn’t say that. I was wondering if you’d—”

  Suddenly, her emotions roared to life. My words had obviously ignited something in her. “That’s sure what it sounded like to me. Who do you think you are, coming on my property like this and accusing me—?”

  “Ma’am, I’m not accusing you. I’m just trying to start a conversation. I was hoping you may have seen something.” That sounded reasonable, didn’t it? It was too bad this woman was far from reasonable at this moment in time.

  Her gaze turned even frostier. “You say they’re missing?”

  I nodded, hoping something would be revealed in this conversation and it wouldn’t be a total waste of our efforts. Our time was running out quickly. “That’s correct.”

  “Good. I didn’t take them, but I applaud whoever did it.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

  “Why would you applaud them?” I asked, perplexed and maybe even flabbergasted.

  “They’re nothing but a nuisance.”

  “The reindeer? How do they even affect you?”

  “The reindeer themselves, not so much. But all of the hubbub next door is nothing but a headache. Do you know that during Christmas, it can take my family two hours to get to our driveway? Cars are lined up for miles down that road. We can’t cut through in the opposite lane because it’s a two-lane road with steep drop offs. It would be a death wish, so we have no choice but to either stay inside on those days, or wait in line to get to our home. One year we even ran out of gas while backed up in that traffic. You can imagine what fun that was.”

  “I can see where that would be frustrating,” Chad said, pulling his lips into a tight line.

  “More than frustrating. It makes me miserable at Christmas. Life is complicated enough without adding that headache.”

  “Hey, it’s the candy hooker lady and her bearded friend,” a small voice said. “Did you come to get my message for Santa?”

  My eyes widened as the little boy we’d met on the sidewalk yesterday appeared in the doorway. His eyes looked as innocent as ever, making it hard to be mad at him and his quirky little remarks.

  The woman—his mother, I assumed—didn’t acknowledge his comment. “Charlie, please let me talk. Run along and play.”

  As soon as Charlie sauntered off, Mrs. Nimble stared at us, daring us to challenge her anymore.

  “So, you’re saying you didn’t take the reindeer?” I repeated, never one to back down from confrontation.

  “What would we do with a flock of reindeer?” she asked.

  A herd, I silently corrected. A herd.

  “Besides, we don’t have a trailer to take them anywhere,” the woman continued. “It would be much easier to pull down the Davis’ lights, cut electricity to their place, or give Santa food poisoning. Stealing reindeer would be way too complicated.”

  She had a point.

  But that still didn’t give me any answers.

  She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “One more thing. I don’t even like Christmas!” Venom dripped from her voice.

  “How can you not like Christmas?” I asked, my voice raspy with surprise. I wasn’t sure where my question had come from. Maybe I truly had been infected with Christmas spirit.

  “Because Santa can’t help me. Jesus can’t either. The whole notion of Christmas only gives my boy false hope. No hope is better than false hope.”

  My heart panged with sadness. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know the woman well enough to offer a hug or even advice. I’d only recently started going to church, so I didn’t even have any spiritual insight.

  “Thank you for your time,” Chad said, his hand on my elbow as he pulled me away.

  Just as he led me down the porch, Charlie yelled from the window, “Bring some more candy . . . candy—hookers!—with you next time you come. And let me know if you decide to talk to Santa . . . or Jesus!”

  “That poor boy,” I murm
ured as I climbed into Chad’s Vanagon. “His mom doesn’t like Christmas. I wonder what’s going on.”

  “Maybe they don’t feel like they have any reason to celebrate.”

  I nodded as a weight pressed on my heart. “Maybe. I just hate to hear that they have no hope. I don’t know what their circumstances are, but that just sounds incredibly sad.”

  I’d come a long way since I started writing a book called Stupid People. Maybe my compassion for animals was finally spilling over into empathy for people as well. Or maybe it was my pregnancy. My marriage? The fact that I’d started going to church? I couldn’t be sure.

  “We still have a few days here. Maybe we can think of a way to spread Christmas cheer before we leave,” Chad said.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I let out a long sigh. “So, where does this leave us?”

  Chad shrugged. “I’m not sure. No one knows anything about what happened to the reindeer or has seen anything. Which is strange. “

  “That means either people aren’t telling the truth or something very strange occurred. I just can’t imagine what.”

  We sat there in silence for a minute.

  “I think I know what happened!” Chad said, smacking his hand on the steering wheel.

  My heart rate quickened. “Really? What?”

  He stared at me, dead serious. “I think Santa magically transported the reindeer to the North Pole. I bet Rudolph wasn’t feeling well, and he needed some back-ups.”

  I set my jaw and looked away.

  “Just joking. JK!” He lilted his voice, purposefully sounding like a teenage girl. His grin slipped but a goofy expression remained. “LOL?”

  “You’re such a dork sometimes.” I couldn’t resist a chuckle.

  “Yet you love me anyway.”

  “Okay, in all seriousness, the Christmas celebration starts tonight, and Christmas is only three days away. I know this light show means a lot to your family, and they’re counting on us to help them out.”