by Laura Briggs
So why did the thought of hiring a private investigator suddenly seem so tempting?
*****
Holiday festivities were in the full swing at the Last Chance Horse Ranch, as Colleen maneuvered her car between a minivan and a pickup truck. The barn and corral were just as they appeared on the website, with cedar swags and boughs of holly strung for decorations alongside old fashioned sleigh bells. Booths from local venders were scattered across the landscape, the profits advertised as going towards the feed and care of the horses.
Feeling a little awkward, Colleen wandered through the crowd of tourists and school kids, pausing to admire the horses circling the corral. A friendly chestnut mare bumped its nose against her gloved hand and made soft whinnying sounds.
“Well, aren’t you quite the charmer,” she murmured, rubbing the soft fur with an affectionate smile. How long had it been since she saddled one of these beautiful creatures for a trail ride? She couldn’t remember; her mind automatically recalled the day she lost Truda’s necklace, although she knew there must have been times after that. In college, perhaps, on summer trips with her friends.
She gave the horse a final pat, then reluctantly turned back into the crowd, glancing around for a sign from Santa. But there was no clue, no giant banner telling her where to go next. Instead, she spotted a booth for the ranch itself, the employee behind the table sporting an ID tag with the name “Emily” printed across it.
“Can I help you?” the worker asked, flashing a bright smile.
“I—I was sent here by a friend,” Colleen hesitated, “as a sort of Christmas surprise. But I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do now that I’m here.” She bit her lip, hoping this didn’t sound too weird.
“Name please?” the woman said, flipping open a plastic binder she pulled from beneath the table.
“Colleen Quinn.” She pulled her scarf closer around her as a chill wind blew. Her gaze wandered to the barn area, where a volunteer dressed as Santa handed out treats for the kids to feed the horses. Masked behind a fluffy, fake beard, only Santa's eyes were visible, with a gleam that seemed strangely familiar as they met hers from a distance.
Do I know you? She almost stepped towards the figure when the booth worker’s voice jerked her back.
“Ah, yes,” Emily said, “we have you on our list. It looks like an anonymous donor has sponsored a horse in your name for a full year. Which means you can ride Star—that’s your horse—anytime during regular business hours.”
“Are you sure?” she said, leaning over the table to glance at the list. Much like the restaurant dinner, it seemed too generous, too extravagant for something as simple as a scavenger game prize.
“Positive.” The woman snapped the folder shut and rose from the table. “Would you like to meet Star? I can show you his stable, you can feed him and even take him into the corral if you want.”
Colleen felt slightly dazed as she followed the worker through the barn’s double doors, passing the volunteer Santa and his crowd of eager children. She couldn’t help glancing his way, only to find his back turned as he crouched next to a small, shy looking girl, her mittens cradling a sack of oats.
“Here we go,” said Emily, pausing at the fourth stable on the right. “Called Star because of the pattern on his forehead, as you can see. He’s a very friendly sort of fellow, retired from a dude ranch just eighty miles east of here.”
“He’s perfect,” Colleen breathed, extending a hand to stroke the impressive black steed, with the star shaped white patch of fur. “Exactly what I wanted.” Twenty years ago, that is. But she still wanted it, more than she realized, as unexpected tears cropped in her eyes.
“Carrots are his favorite treat,” the volunteer advised, handing her a small sack like the ones being dispensed to the children. “He also loves oats and apples, however.”
Opening the sack, she spilled the bits of vegetable into her palm. “Hungry?” she asked, holding her hand beneath the horse’s nose. He immediately nuzzled it, catching the carrot slices gently with his teeth.
She could take him for a ride anytime. Even now, it wouldn't harm her jeans and sweater to make contact with a leather saddle and bridle, or make her skin glow with anything but pleasure if she went for a brisk circle in the cold of the outdoor corral.
Brushing his coat down, she saddled him up and led him through the double doors. The Santa with the chocolate eyes had vanished, his crowd of children busy feeding horses through the fencing.
Star had a steady, even stride as they loped down the fence line. Colleen closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the sensation of the wind in her face, the breeze stirring her long locks. “Thank you, whoever you are,” she murmured, rubbing the reins between her fingers. A gentle tug backwards was all it took to stop the horse in his tracks.
“You look pretty experienced out there,” one staff member complimented, as she led Star back to his stable.
She grinned and gave the horse a parting stroke. “I’ve done some riding here and there. But it’s been a long time.”
Outside, she hugged herself against the cold, breathing deeply. This was the best gift anyone had given her in years, and she still couldn’t explain why they did it. Did they feel sorry for her? Was it like everyone said—that she was consumed with work and couldn’t enjoy a holiday unless someone else planned it for her?
A glimpse of a red suit ahead of her in the crowd jerked her thoughts back to the present. The figure turned and she caught sight of those familiar eyes, a jolt of surprise running through her. That gaze seemed so familiar, so similar…
“Wait!” she called, as he turned and disappeared behind a booth display for specialty peppermint candies. “Excuse me,” Colleen said, trying to maneuver through the crowd, “Santa…I mean, whoever you are…I need to speak to you.”
Was she crazy? A thought she didn’t waste too much time on as she scanned the horizon for the elusive scarlet coat. The color was popular for the season, making her task more challenging as curious shoppers gathered to study the various sellers’ wares. Red coats, tams, scarves and gloves caught her gaze, leading her down false trails until she was standing somewhere in the maze of booths behind the stables.
At last she spotted the unmistakable suit and hat, the white trim and black boots. Her heart raced nervously as she reached and tapped the arm. Only to have a pair of twinkling blue eyes face her, framed by a genuine white beard traced with grey.
“Sorry,” she said, an apologetic smile curving her lips. “I thought…I mean, there was someone else here dressed like Santa. Someone I thought I recognized.” Which is just silly, after all, since all you saw were his eyes.
“Quite all right, my dear,” the other Saint Nick assured her. “I didn’t realize one of my impersonators was anywhere nearby. But then, it is the season, isn’t it?”
She laughed, catching the merriment in his joke. “Absolutely. You’re the best Santa I’ve ever seen,” she added, with a nod to the elegant costume. “Everything about you looks the part.”
“I certainly hope so. It’ll make my job all the easier,” he chuckled. “Merry Christmas, my dear.” As he placed an old-fashioned candy cane in her hand. “And I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you.” She waved goodbye, a warmth surrounding her despite the winter day. The kids must love this guy, no doubt believing he could really deliver all their secret wishes on Christmas Eve. Although she was starting to feel that same sense of anticipation with each new surprise from her own mysterious benefactor.
Her eyes roamed the crowd one last time, hoping to glimpse the figure with the coffee colored eyes. Finding only strangers, their arms loaded with packages for the tree.
*****
“It was so weird—I mean, it was like destiny or something.”
Dawn gazed at Colleen over her frozen yogurt cup, a dreamy look in her eyes. “What are the odds that he would be so in to rock climbing—and that my Secret Santa knew to give me a certi
ficate for that new sports activity center on Rogers Avenue?”
The “he” in question was Rick, the insurance agent from upstairs. And apparently, he and Dawn had taken their elevator flirtation to the next step, arranging for lunch and another trip to Outdoor World to explore their mutual hobbies.
“Sounds like a lucky coincidence,” Colleen smiled. She stirred her lemon tea and tapped the spoon against the rim of the cup as she tried to imagine which friend had picked up on those clues. Maybe Meg and Rosalyn were working together—tag teaming to find all the answers about their friends' romantic interests, for instance.
Her mind was still focused on the events of the past two weeks and the possibility of any final challenges before the magic December 24th date rolled around. A spark of anticipation stirred inside her, as she imagined the crafty St. Nick attempting to top the previous feats. How far would they go? What was left on that list of unfulfilled wishes she’d never really stopped longing for? Only one thing came to mind—and it wasn’t something she wanted anyone else arranging.
“Earth to Colleen.” Her coworker was grinning as she scraped the last of the yogurt from her cup. “Are you going to eat your lunch or just sit there daydreaming all day?”
“Neither,” she said, pushing back her swivel chair. “I need to prevent a possible disaster.” Grabbing her coat, she swept out of the office before Dawn could say another word.
She arrived at the law firm where Meg worked in less than fifteen minutes, her heels clicking impatiently across the lobby’s tiled floor. It was time to force some answers on this campaign to rescue her from being a Christmas humbug, just in case her friends had something else in mind. Romance, for instance, was off-limits in this Yuletide agenda, in her opinion; that was the approach she needed to take.
Her knuckles rapped twice against the office door with Meg’s nameplate, her ear pressed against the wood. Meg usually had lunch in her office so she could sneak in some extra work, making more time for evening plans. But there was no stirring behind the pulled shade, no sound of a chair sliding back or heels crossing the floor.
“She took a client to lunch.”
The masculine voice made her jump, her skin tingling as her eyes met Jack Bradley’s gaze. “Rats,” she said, stepping back, her hands slipping inside her coat pockets. “I really needed to talk to her about something.”
“Well, it’s an important case. A two-hour kind of lunch, if I was to make a guess.” A teasing gleam buried in those dark depths as he checked his wrist watch. “Have you eaten anything yet? Because I have an errand to run at that specialty chocolate shop on the corner—”
“Sweet Addictions,” Colleen finished, before she could stop herself. “I love their Bavarian-filled éclairs,” she explained, warmth infusing her cheeks. Finishing other people’s sentences was something she tried never to do, especially if that someone happened to be an attractive and available member of the opposite sex.
“Would you like to come?” he asked. “We’ll try some of those éclairs, my treat. Consider it compensation for my bad coaching skills.”
“Okay,” she said, almost surprising herself with the automatic acceptance. “Except you were pretty good as a skating instructor. I mean, it was the first time I didn’t have a few scrapes or bruises to prove I’d been on the ice.”
He held the door open in a gentlemanly gesture that made her blush. Don’t get swept away, she cautioned herself, pulling her coat closer as if to block his natural charm. A maneuver that seemed pointless since she’d just agreed to spend her lunch hour with him, an invitation that qualified as a date in some people’s eyes.
But she’d already held hands with him, their fingers intertwined as they swirled across the ice. Not to mention that moment when she’d practically fallen into his arms, their faces almost cheek to cheek for a split-second. Could today’s excursion really pose as much danger to her heart?
Colleen adjusted her scarf, frowning as her great-grandmother’s amulet caught against the wool, pulling a thread. Maybe her friends were right; maybe she wore it for superstitious reasons. She studied the ornament guiltily, its tarnished surface glinting in the sunlight.
“Nice antique charm,” Jack commented, as she hurriedly tucked it inside her coat’s lapels. “Is it the same one Meg mentioned once? Some story about it having special powers in the romance department…” he trailed off, a slightly sheepish look invading his expression.
“Meg told you about that?” Colleen stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, nearly toppling a swivel display for Christmas themed jewelry. Her arm reached automatically to balance it, her eyes glued to the handsome attorney with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. “I can’t believe she did that. You must think I’m nuts or something. ”
“No, no,” he answered, moving aside for a stream of shoppers, loads of shiny gift bags dangling from their arms. “She didn't mean—that is, she didn't make it sound like believing in the tooth fairy or something. More like observing a family tradition.” He was right beside her now, their bodies forced together by the passing crowd.
She glanced away, aware that a strange warmth was spreading through her veins, a lightheaded dizziness seeping through her. “I’m not as obsessed about it as she might imply. It's just, my family liked the idea behind it, the possibility it could be real. I guess that makes me a hopeless romantic, right?”
“Who says that’s a bad thing?”
His tone was gentle, making her turn towards him again. His eyes were filled with understanding, along with a hint of admiration that made her knees tremble. She felt an indescribable force pulling her towards him, her face tilting upwards. A moment later, a horn blared from the street, breaking the spell.
“We should get going,” she said, stepping away. The path had temporarily cleared, giving her a safe distance to calm her pounding heart. “The noon hour is ticking away,” she explained, a shaky laugh escaping her lips.
“You’re right.” He fell in step beside her, their destination within sight now. Conversation had reached an impasse apparently, with Jack giving an awkward cough to fill the silence. It made the bustling interior of Sweet Addictions a welcome distraction, with the sound of other people’s laughter and the strains of holiday music echoing over the speakers.
Colleen stood in front of the glass display counter, pretending to study the chocolates that were iced to resemble blue and silver Christmas balls. From the corner of her eye, she could see Jack consulting an employee about his order. No doubt a special assortment of gourmet chocolates for some a friend or family member. Or even a would-be girlfriend, since he couldn’t have any lack of admirers.
A young couple strolled up beside her, gloved hands clasped as they admired the rows of glittering candies and the powdered truffles designed to resemble snowballs. The man whispered something to his girlfriend that inspired a secretive smile, the two of them sharing quiet laughter.
For a moment, Colleen was reminded of all those “third wheel” moments she’d been through lately, with one friend engaged and the other happily married. As she stepped away instinctively, she almost ran into Jack, his arms cradling a red and green gift box and a small white paper bag. “Ready for those éclairs?” he asked.
They shared a corner booth that seemed unnecessarily private, as if they were more than distant acquaintances on an impulsive outing. Unwrapping his pastry, Jack offered her an apologetic glance. “Listen, I—I shouldn’t have mentioned the amulet earlier. It’s clearly very personal for you—I didn't mean to make it sound like something sappy.”
She sensed that Meg had exaggerated this tale the way she always did. “It’s part of my heritage and I love it for that," she answered, with a shrug. "But I’m not waiting for it to give me some sort of fairytale romance, even if it supposedly worked for the generations before me.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard.” He tapped his fingers against the table, looking somewhat deflated. “That must be hard to live up to.”
“So far.”
Her mind flew to all the pointless fix-ups and blind dates she’d been on, the annoying clients who insisted on flirting. And Jack’s own disastrous introduction, his voice scolding her for a crime she had no intention of committing.
Was he thinking of the same thing? Of course, in his case it would be too many eligible girls to choose from, too many possibilities to narrow down to the perfect one.
“Just one more question and we drop the subject,” he said, grabbing her attention. “Does the love-at-first sight thing only work if both people experience it? I mean, could one of them fall at the first meeting and the other come around more gradually?”
“I—I’m not sure.” Something about this seemed odd, as if it were more than a hypothetical situation being posed. “You act like you believe all this,” she added with a laugh, hoping to break the tension. “Which is pretty amazing, considering my own family isn’t completely sold on it.”
“Point taken,” he said. “But you have to admit, it’s not the craziest thing to believe in. There’s more proof for it than UFO sightings or even Saint Nick.” With a cheesy grin that she couldn’t help but return. "If I found one of these charms somewhere, I'm assuming the magic might not take effect on both parties at once, right? Even if the magic was from Santa himself. "
“I guess so," she laughed. "Although the gifts I’ve been getting lately are so special, it seems like Santa's magic is pretty powerful stuff.”
As she spoke, she searched his face for any flicker of discomfort, remembering the suited figure at The Last Chance Horse Ranch. But there was nothing like recognition in his eyes as they met hers across the table.
