by Dylann Crush
“What’s on the tree?” Jinx rose to her tiptoes, trying to see over the heads of the small crowd in front of them.
“They pick a theme every year. I think this time it’s a down-home country Christmas.” He squinted at the tree. “Looks like they have it decked out in a chili pepper garland.”
Kenzie let go of his ears to tap on his head. “Can we get a tree this big?”
“Aw, Tadpole, this wouldn’t fit in the house.” The tree had to be at least thirty feet tall. “But I promise we’ll get a tree this year.”
“A real one?”
“Yep.”
“Don’t you usually have a tree?” Jinx squeezed his hand.
“Well, we normally spend Christmas Eve at the big house with my mom and dad. They love seeing Kenzie wake up on Christmas morning to find out what Santa brought her. Seems silly to decorate when it’s just the two of us, y’know?” When he said it out loud, it sounded like a pathetic excuse. “You ever put up a tree for the holidays?”
“Me?” Jinx screwed her mouth into a frown. “I’m usually the one working the holiday shifts, since I don’t have kids or family. Everyone else wants those days off. I’ll take the overtime and the extra holiday pay every time.”
“But not this year.” He stated it like it was a foregone conclusion. A fact.
“Not this year?”
“Nope.”
“But by Christmas, my bike should be fixed.”
Cash lifted their linked hands and pressed a kiss against her palm. “Don’t say it, okay?”
“But—”
He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it tonight.” He knew she couldn’t wait to get out of town, put hundreds of miles between them. But he didn’t want to hear it tonight. It had been such a perfect day, he couldn’t stand for her to spoil it with talk about leaving.
“Kenzie, let’s go get your picture taken with Pork Chop.” Cash began to make his way toward the tree. Every year, Charlie brought the Rambling Rose’s pig mascot to the Jingle Bell Jamboree to pose for pictures. For a donation to their charity of choice, festivalgoers could snap a photo next to the pig.
“Is she wearing a costume?” Jinx asked.
“She always dresses up like an oinking elf,” Kenzie said. “Oh, look, there’s you and Daddy kissing!”
Cash looked toward the screen, where he and Jinx stood lip to lip under the mistletoe at the mini-mart.
“Great, just great.” Jinx tucked her chin against her chest.
“Don’t be embarrassed. They manage to get everyone eventually.” Cash kept his eyes on the screen where the next picture showed Presley with a blond on one side and a brunette on the other. They both had their lips pressed to his cheeks while he smiled directly into the camera. One of these days, his brother would get what was coming to him. The sooner the better.
When they reached the line to pose with Pork Chop, Cash lifted Kenzie off his shoulders and set her on her feet.
“Here.” Jinx reached for the dog. “Why don’t you let me take him to go potty while you get your picture taken?” Kenzie passed her the leash, and Jinx turned toward a patch of grass on the other side of the street. “Back in a sec.”
While Cash waited for the family in front of them to arrange themselves around Pork Chop, Charlie walked over.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Okay. Pork Chop is a hit. Blows my mind what a great marketing stunt the pig mascot has been.”
“And how are you feeling?” She must have been wearing Beck’s coat. The sleeves were rolled up, and it reached down to her knees.
Charlie sighed. “I’m tired of being fat. I’m tired of being hangry all the time. But most of all, I’m tired of being tired.”
“Wish I could tell you it gets easier, but that would be a lie.”
“I know.” She put her hand on Cash’s shoulder. “Oh no.”
“What?” He turned to see what had gotten her attention. Pork Chop stood, shaking off the jingle bells and elf hat they’d secured around her head. The family who’d just had their picture snapped with her backed away. The pig squealed, then took off like a missile toward the other side of the street—where Jinx stood with Hendrix.
Cash raced after her, trying to nab the red-and-white leash trailing behind her. The crowd in front of the tree parted. Hendrix leapt out of Jinx’s arms, and Pork Chop banked left, running around the back side of the tree. Jinx met Cash in front of the risers where the choir had just started on the chorus of “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.”
“Where did they go?” Jinx asked.
“Around back. You go that way, and I’ll go this way. Hopefully, we’ll catch them.” Cash started around his side.
Hendrix ran past with Pork Chop hot on his heels. Her hoof caught in the extension cord that was hooked to the speakers. One of them went down. Cash dove for it, trying to prevent it from crashing to the pavement. He missed.
Hendrix passed him again, then Pork Chop came around the tree, the speaker and a string of lighted snowflakes dragging behind her. As he scrambled to his feet, Jinx stopped next to him.
“We’ve got to catch them.” She huffed and puffed, trying to catch her breath. “They’re going to take out all the A/V equipment.”
Cash put his arms out, forcing the crowd to move back from the tree. The lights strung over the choir popped off the backdrop. Some of the choir members continued to sing about everyone dancing merrily while the rest rapidly vacated the risers.
Pork Chop made another lap, this time crashing through the banner advertising the tree lighting. Her vision blocked by the sign, she paused to shake her head. Hendrix jumped up, trying to pull the banner from her eyes.
“Now!” Cash made a grab for the pig.
Right before his hand closed around her collar, she turned on him, knocking him into the base of the tree. As the automatic timer started the countdown, the tree listed left, then right.
10…9…8…7… Cash tried to wrap his arms around the trunk to straighten it.
6…5…4… Jinx joined him in the mess of branches, but the tree continued to sway.
3…2…1… The tree lit up for a brief moment. The crowd oohed and aahed.
Then it fell. Cash watched as the tree tilted backward in slow motion. Ornaments crashed to the ground, while the prerecorded message from the mayor played on fast-forward, making him sound like one of the Chipmunks.
The power went out. Then silence.
No lights.
No music.
No tree.
Chapter Eighteen
Jinx set her backpack down on the floor behind the stage at the Rambling Rose. She hadn’t been too crazy about the idea of helping Dixie with the fund-raising auction tonight, especially after the fiasco with the tree yesterday. It had taken them all evening to clean up the mess from the broken ornaments and restring the tree with lights. Her picture had even made the front page of the paper, and video some of the people in the crowd had captured on their cell phones had gone viral. If she saw one more clip of her and Cash tumbling into the tree as it fell, she’d swear off the internet forever.
Tonight was her only night off this week, and she’d hoped to spend some time with Cash and Kenzie. But she’d promised Dixie she’d help with the charity auction, and she didn’t want to piss off one of the few people who was still willing to speak to her.
Dixie swished by in a ridiculous holiday ensemble. “Right on time. But where’s your costume?”
“Where’s my what?” Jinx glanced down at her standard black leggings.
“Your costume. Where’s your elf costume?” Dixie crossed her arms over her chest. The jingle bells rimming her red-and-green skirt jangled.
Jinx copied her stance. Two could play at this game. “Hey, nobody said anything about a costume. You just asked if I could help out with the f
und-raiser.” She’d already spent two hours at Dwight’s that afternoon painting a whole winter wonderland scene on the windows of the gas station—after she’d spent an hour cleaning decades of grime away. She’d assumed Dixie just needed some help with artwork or something.
“Yes. The Naughty or Nice Elf Auction. As an elf. That means you need to dress the part, just like everyone else.” Dixie gestured to a dozen or so people dressed in similar garb behind the stage. “Do you have anything with you that will work?”
The entire town was living in some sort of holiday-crazed twilight zone.
Dixie held out a red-and-green costume. “Lucky for you I have an extra. It’ll look so cute on you. Come on. It’s for a good cause.”
Jinx eyed what appeared to be a scrap piece of material rimmed in some fake fur. “I am not parading around a stage in that.”
“You said you’d help.” Dixie’s perfectly painted pink lips pursed into a pout. “Please? You’ll only be out there for a couple of minutes.”
Jinx clamped her hands to her hips. “Hard no. Absolutely not.” The piece of material Dixie held by the fingertips looked more like a fuzzy negligee than an elf costume. “I don’t want to be that kind of Santa’s helper.”
Dixie rolled her eyes. “No one’s going to think you’re that kind of helper. Trust me.”
“You’re the one who called it a Naughty or Nice Elf Auction. What kind of help are you trying to sell here?”
“I told you. You’re on the hook for four hours. Whoever makes the highest bid will have you do some holiday shopping or wrap presents or something. Nothing naughty. We just call it that because it sounds more exciting than calling it the Nice Elf Auction.” Dixie waved the strip of fabric. “Come on. The money goes to a women’s shelter in Austin. It’s a really good cause. Please?”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Why did they have to support a women’s shelter? Jinx could have refused if it had been any other kind of event. But doing something for women caught in abusive relationships was a no-brainer. She snagged the costume out of Dixie’s hand and stepped into the makeshift backstage dressing room.
“Yay!” Dixie clapped her hands together. “Thanks so much!”
“I’m just trying it on. No promises.” Jinx stripped down to her boy shorts to pull the costume up and over her hips. The faux fur–trimmed skirt hit her midthigh. She shimmied the strapless top up over her bra and attempted to zip up the backside. “I can’t get the zipper. Can you help me out?”
Dixie flung the curtain back and squealed. “Oh my gosh, you look so adorable.”
“Just zip me up.” Jinx held the top against her chest while Dixie slid the zipper closed. “Why can’t I wear your outfit?”
“Are you kidding me? My daddy would tan my hide if he saw me out in public in something like that.”
Jinx let her gaze roam up and down Dixie’s much more modest ensemble: curly-toed slippers, red-and-white-striped tights, a skirt ending at the knees.
“So I have to be the slutty elf because you’re afraid of your dad?” She’d love to recall exactly how she’d let Dixie talk her into this. Sure, she’d offered to help at the fund-raiser, but no one had bothered to tell her she’d be selling her services to the highest bidder.
Usually closed on Sunday nights, the Rambling Rose had opened especially for the big event. Dixie bragged that folks came from places as far away as Austin and San Antonio for the annual fund-raiser. Yeehaw. Somehow knowing she was doing her part in providing help to vulnerable women didn’t quite make up for the fact that she was about to make her debut as Ho-Ho Holly on the Rambling Rose’s stage in front of hundreds of strangers.
“There you go.” Dixie stepped back, satisfied with her handiwork. “Hmm. Your bra straps are showing. You’ve got to lose the straps, or the bra’s got to go.”
“Hey, I showed up. I put on the costume. But there is no way in hell I’m going out there without a bra on.”
Dixie sighed and clucked her tongue. “Charlie! Can you come give us an opinion?”
Charlie wobbled over to where Dixie and Jinx stood, eyes locked in a stare down. “What’s up?”
“The bra straps. They don’t really gel with the holiday vibe, wouldn’t you agree?” Dixie asked.
“Yeah, it’s too late for Halloween.” Charlie tilted her head. “What does the rest of your bra look like?”
“What?” Jinx covered her shoulders with her hands. “They’re supposed to look like spider webs. I picked it up on clearance.”
Dixie held out a hand. “The bra.”
“Whatever.” Jinx jerked the straps down and managed to twist herself out of the bra without losing the top half of the costume. “Better?”
“Much,” Charlie and Dixie answered in unison.
“Let’s get this over with.” Jinx stepped to the edge of the stage as Presley took the mic.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the tenth annual Naughty or Nice Elf Auction. We’ve got a great lineup for a great cause tonight. Just a few house rules before we get started. Our elves are volunteers. You’re bidding on a four-hour block of their time to help with your holiday preparations. But you can’t have them do anything you wouldn’t do yourself.” Presley shielded his eyes from the spotlight and scanned the audience. “I’m talking to you, Dwight.”
The crowd let out a low rumble of laughter.
“All right. Bids are binding, and all volunteer hours need to be used before December thirty-first. Let’s get started. First up, our own Dixie King.”
Dixie twirled onto the stage, her curly-toed slippers jingling as she skipped over to Presley’s side.
“Can we get the bidding started at fifty bucks?”
Several hands rose into the air. Jinx waited, the anxiousness in her stomach clawing its way up her throat. Dixie worked the crowd, blowing kisses to the bidders, while Presley pushed for a higher amount.
Finally, after two of the Rose’s regulars battled it out with their bidding cards, Presley announced the final winning bid. “Sold for two hundred bucks to Charity King.”
Dixie skipped across the stage to where Jinx stood clutching the edge of the curtain. “At least that was more than last year.”
“Is that your mom?”
“Yep. My folks would never let me go to someone else. Daddy hates this auction, but he knows it’s for a good cause.” She adjusted the row of giant bells lining the front of Jinx’s costume. “Statler’s up next. We’ll save you for a little later.”
Jinx took in a deep breath through her nose and blew it out of her mouth while Charlie’s brother strode onto the stage in a red-and-green-striped onesie.
“Ladies, eat your hearts out. Here comes Holiday’s second-most-eligible bachelor.” Presley lowered his voice a notch. “We all know who’s first on that list, don’t we?”
Statler threw a fake punch at his brother, then crossed his arms over his chest. “Can we get this over with?”
Jinx could relate—she felt the same way. Presley made a few jokes and even managed to coax a smile from Statler as the bids stacked up. Finally, it was down to two people.
“Going once, going twice…” Presley waited, drawing out the moment. “Sold to Mrs. Holbein for two hundred and thirty bucks!”
“Oh no.” Dixie gripped Jinx’s arm.
“What’s wrong?”
“That’s my gram. My daddy’s going to blow a gasket when he realizes she just bought a bachelor elf.” The bells on Dixie’s costume jingled as she sprinted away.
Jinx stood in the wings, her anxiety rising as other volunteer elves took their turns onstage. All too soon, it was her turn.
“Next up, we have the Rose’s newest little elf. Come on out here, Jinx.” Presley raised his hand, beckoning her onto the stage.
Dixie reappeared from nowhere, shoved a holiday headband onto Jinx’s he
ad, and gave her a gentle nudge from behind. With a lump the size of an ostrich egg lodged in her throat, Jinx stepped onto the stage.
The bright light blinded her. She couldn’t see beyond the first two or three feet into the audience. It was probably better that way. Presley moved closer, talking about how she’d just recently joined the staff. Then he leaned in and held the microphone out to her.
“Can you tell us about any special talents you have?”
“What?”
Presley smiled at the crowd. “You know, are you an expert baker? Have a special recipe for eggnog? Know how to knit a scarf? We need to let the bidders know your area of expertise.”
Area of expertise? Running away. That was one thing she excelled at. Probably not the kind of skill he was looking for.
“Um, I can draw. Other than that, I’ve got nothing.”
“Okay, drawing. Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got Jinx, the drawing elf. Who will start the bidding at fifty bucks?”
She stood, squinting into the light while voices called out to each other across the room. Presley repeated bids, upping the amounts, pushing the crowd for more.
“Two hundred and fifty dollars. Going once, going twice.”
“Five hundred.”
Jinx’s heart revved into freak-out mode. She’d recognize Cash’s voice anywhere.
“Five hundred?” Presley repeated.
Cash stepped closer to the front edge of the stage. “That’s what I said.”
“Sold for five hundred big ones. Thanks, Big Brother.”
She tried to force her feet to move, to carry her off to the side of the stage where she could get out of the spotlight. But instead, she froze. Her feet wouldn’t budge, like they’d been cemented in place. Cash levered himself onto the stage, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and led her to the side.
Dixie jumped up and down, her bells jingling like crazy. “That was awesome! Congratulations, Jinx. You too, Cash. That was super generous of you.”
“Hell, I couldn’t let Cooper get his hands on her. He’d have her out stomping on grapes or something.” He whipped around to face Jinx. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
