by Ginny Baird
Even if he waived his own salary for the event, which he was willing to do, Evan would still have to pay his deputy overtime for working on Christmas Eve. Helen, too, for the predictably higher demand for dispatch. Who knew how many fender-benders might ensue on the traffic-jammed streets? He’d probably also have to recruit Itzel to help with parking, or that ticket-taking Mary mentioned, and there went another overtime salary allocation. Volunteer workers were great, but volunteers could only go so far without official supervision to ensure the event ran safely.
What about public works? Had his dad not given one thought to the condition Clark Creek’s streets and sidewalks would be left in after such a sizable parade? After the crush of the crowds, and given any parade debris left behind, they certainly couldn’t remain a mess for Christmas. Those street crews would have to be afforded holiday pay as well, to attend to the cleanup, including hauling away temporary trash containers.
And, if the big parade attracted gobs of tourists, like Mary promised, where would all those folks stay? Would they sleep out in their cars, pitch tents, or park campers at the county fairgrounds and on Nash’s farmland, right alongside those porta potties?
Evan groaned and trudged through the snow to his sheriff’s SUV. It seemed like he was the sole rational individual in town who could predict the negative impact of Mary’s plan. When it all came crashing down, and the parade wound up costing Clark Creek more than it made, it would be up to Clark Creek’s disappointed—and far poorer—citizens to pick up the pieces of the shattered town and try to put it back together again.
What a very sad Christmas that would make for everyone concerned. And sadness and Christmas were a bad mix. Evan knew enough about that firsthand, and he wouldn’t wish that sort of holiday on his worst enemy, not to mention his fondest friends.
Chapter Eight
Mary reached Nash’s farm the next day at a little past noon. The front of his property sat at the edge of town beside the county fairgrounds, at the juncture where Main Street formed a T-intersection with Three-Notched Pass, which eventually connected to a rural highway at its northern end. Mary drove down a dirt road through an open gate. The rustic wooden sign overhead read Meadowmont Farm. From its rolling pastures and picturesque mountain backdrop, she could see where it got its name.
Nash had agreed to meet her during his lunch break from the clinic because she wanted to discuss her parade plan and how it might impact his property, while requesting his permission to use a small portion of it on Christmas Eve. He’d initially been hesitant about seeing her, but her cheerful optimism about the parade’s outcome had eventually won him over.
She’d always found you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, so she’d heaped on the sweetener when chatting with Nash, telling him all about the sponsors who’d already pledged their help, including those big-name ones from Hopedale. When she’d mentioned the developer who’d built the ski resort, Nash had seemed impressed. By the time he’d called her back to arrange their meeting time, he’d sounded swayed to her way of thinking. Since he’d shared news about the parade with his daughter, it would be hard for him not to get behind it now.
She passed a barn and a couple of outbuildings as she approached the farmhouse: a lovely two-story structure with a covered wraparound porch. It was a historic-looking place, probably built in the early 1900s, with its original beveled windows catching the midday light. On the far side of the house, she saw a set of stables, adjoining a riding ring and a large snowy field. The snow had briefly let up, but more was predicted later.
Three men rounded the house from the backyard. One was an older, grizzled-looking guy who led a horse by its bridle. A middle-aged man in a scruffy blond beard and hat walked beside him, and the third man wore a field coat, cowboy boots and jeans. He wasn’t exactly dressed like a doctor, but the attractive dark-haired man in his thirties had to be Nash.
Mary parked her SUV in a spot by the front of the house, and Nash broke away from the others, striding up to her driver’s side window. “Mary,” he said when she lowered it. “Welcome to Meadowmont Farm.” He had very dark eyes, solid cheekbones, and a sturdy jaw. He looked just like a younger version of Jesse.
“Thanks for agreeing to see me,” she said.
“Won’t you come in for coffee?”
“I don’t want to take up too much of your time. Besides, I’m meeting Evan for coffee later.”
“Ah.”
The other men approached, curiosity apparently getting the better of them. “These are two of my farmhands,” Nash said. He indicated the older guy. “Leroy.” Then nodded toward the guy in the hat. “And this is Austin.”
Mary climbed out of her SUV to greet them. “Very nice to meet you.”
“You as well, Miss Mary,” Leroy said, stopping his horse beside him.
Austin tipped his hat. “Hello.”
“Austin here looks after my fields,” Nash told her. “Leroy cares for the horses.”
Mary had always wanted to ride and had begged for lessons as a child. With the lifestyle she’d had growing up, that had had never been possible, though. “How many have you got?”
“Six at the moment,” Nash said. “This one’s Nellie.”
Mary tentatively stretched her hand forward and Leroy nodded. “You can go on and pet her. She won’t bite.”
Mary stroked the animal’s nose, which felt scratchy and a little silky all at once. Nellie raised her nose in the air and snorted, and Mary jumped back. “Oh!”
The men chuckled. “She’s just saying hello,” Leroy told her.
Nash turned toward her. “You wanted to talk about the parade?”
“Yes, well…” She eyed his farmhands uncertainly. They didn’t seem ready to go anywhere and Nash didn’t act like he was going to dismiss them. “After starting at the town square, I was thinking that the parade could wind up here.”
Nash folded his arms across his chest. “Here?”
“It’s a straight shot from the courthouse, so easier on the floats and such not to have to turn corners—especially the large ones. The mayor plans to open up the fairgrounds for parking, and also designate an area that’s large enough for the floats to turn around when they’re ready to head home.”
Leroy rubbed his chin. “How many floats you planning?”
“So far, I’ve got sixty,” she said, “but I’m hoping for more.”
“There’s something fun about a parade,” Leroy said to the others. “My ma and pa used to take me to the one in Valley View when I was a kid.”
Mary hadn’t heard of that town. Then again, she’d never heard about Clark Creek until recently.
Austin nodded at Leroy. “I recall those parades. My folks took me and my sister to a couple of ’em.” His shoulders sagged. “Don’t think they have ’em anymore.”
“Nope.” Leroy shook his head. “Haven’t in years.”
“Shame,” Austin and Leroy said almost simultaneously.
Mary latched onto their sense of nostalgia. “I know what you mean. Big parades are the best. So much fun, and festive. And Christmas parades are the best of all, because they involve Santa.” She glanced sheepishly at Nash, then leaned toward the group. “I was thinking—hoping—that Santa could come here?”
“Here?” Nash cocked his head and Austin guffawed.
Leroy just said, “Santa? What?”
Mary gestured toward the road. “You’ve got space at the end of your pasture, right where Main Street dead-ends at the T-intersection with Three-Notched Pass.”
“Yeah? So?” Nash asked, and Mary’s pulse pounded because he seemed intrigued.
“So, I was thinking we might set up a Santa’s workshop there? Someplace where kids could come and meet Santa Claus?”
“What kind of workshop you talking?” Austin asked.
“Don’t think she means an actual one,” Leroy told him. “More of a stage-type thing.”
“Exactly.” Mary nodded. “Nothing elaborate. Just a nice comfy cha
ir for Santa to sit in under a covered space, probably made of wood. The art teacher at the high school said her kids might be able to put something together. Some of them build sets for school plays. A few of the handier parents sometimes help them. We don’t have much time, but she thought it was such a worthwhile project…”
“So will Santa be here, or ride in your parade?” Nash asked.
“Both.” Mary smiled. “My idea is for him to ride on a float decorated like Santa’s sleigh from where the parade starts at the town square. When he gets here, he can greet any children who want to see him and hand out candy canes from his workshop.”
“A Santa Claus parade, right here in Clark Creek,” Austin said. He glanced at the older guy and grinned. “Say, Leroy. Maybe you can play one of his elves?”
The old man snorted. Then he reddened and peered at Mary. “Truth be told, I wouldn’t be disinclined, if it would help.”
Mary wanted to hug him. “That would be awesome, Leroy. Thank you!”
“Who’s playing Santa?” Nash asked.
“Your dad.”
Nash grinned. “Right. He already has the suit.”
“That’s what he said.” Mary shrugged, feeling happy. This was going tons better than she’d expected. Nash was being incredibly cooperative, and even Leroy and Austin were getting into the act.
Austin adjusted his hat. “Well, if it’s elf-playing ya need…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t mind participating.”
Nash dropped his jaw.
“That would be amazing, Austin,” Mary said, feeling like she’d just achieved a triple-score. “Such a huge help. Thank you.”
“No problem, Miss Mary,” he said deferentially, and Nash raised his eyebrows.
“You seem to work wonders around here,” he told her.
“I’m hoping those wonders help Clark Creek out of the pinch that it’s in.”
“Hmm. Yeah.”
Leroy’s eyes twinkled. “What about the horses?”
“What about them?” Nash asked.
“Those parades I mentioned over in Valley View…they sometimes had horses done up like reindeer. You know, wearing sleigh bells and such and with fake antlers on their heads.”
“I love that idea.” Mary’s blood pumped harder, because just imagining this made her feel so inspired. This was going to be such a wonderful parade. Even Evan had to agree, once he learned of the progress she’d made.
Nash chuckled. “Can’t see the harm in dressing up the horses. As long as they don’t get too vexed about it.”
“I’ll talk to them first,” Leroy said.
“Leroy’s something of a horse whisperer around here,” Nash told Mary. “They’re very good at listening to what he says.”
“Well, if the horses won’t mind…” She shot Leroy a happy grin. “Then I think that would be super cool. Could they be tied up near Santa’s workshop?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“We could even offer kiddie rides,” Austin said.
Mary laughed with delight. “Are any of your horses tame enough?”
Leroy patted the horse beside him. “Nellie will do just fine.”
Nash addressed Mary. “Nellie’s my daughter Chloe’s horse. Really great with kids.”
“Belle’s an easy rider too,” Leroy added. “In case we get a big demand.”
“Two horses are probably better than one,” Austin agreed.
Nash thought a moment and stared toward the road. “Shouldn’t be any problem having you use that bit of land. I can clear out some additional space for parking in my front pasture, by opening that big gate.” He pointed in that direction. “In case there’s an overflow at the fairgrounds.”
“That would be so helpful, Nash. Thank you.” She bit her lip because this was the hardest part to ask about. “There’s just one more thing.”
Leroy snickered. “Bet it’s ’bout those porta-potties.”
“Not so sure about those,” Nash said with a grimace. “Honestly.”
“People will need to have somewhere to go,” Mary said. “The stores in town will probably be packed to the gills, with their restrooms overrun. The company I found is into green initiatives. Everything’s handled in an eco-friendly way.”
“Eco-friendly,” Austin said wryly. “Sounds like that natural fertilizer we use.”
Leroy elbowed him. “Mind your manners around the lady.”
Nash pursed his lips. “I’ll need to see the particulars.”
“Of course,” Mary said. “I can email you the information this afternoon. And they won’t be here very long. Everything will be collected by five o’clock on Christmas Eve.”
“Not making any promises.” Nash repressed a grin. “But I’m not saying no, either.”
Which was as good as a yes to Mary. She seemed to be batting a thousand. After all, Nash’s two rough-hewn farmhands had just offered to dress up as elves, and she never could have predicted that.
“Thanks, Nash!” she said, grinning. “I’ll get you that information by the end of today.”
Mary pulled away from Nash’s farm and turned onto Main Street. There was an empty parking spot on the side of the road beside the Kids’ Museum, and she snagged it. She couldn’t wait to call Judy to update on her on her progress. Things were going so much better than she’d hoped. This was going to be a wonderful parade.
“Tell me you’re calling with good news,” Judy said, without even saying hello.
“I’m calling with great news. Things are really falling into place.”
“Fantastic. With the sheriff?”
“Um, not entirely,” Mary said, feeling happy. “But that’s okay. We’ve got all the town angels flying in.”
“What do you mean by town angels?”
“People in Clark Creek. Everyone’s being so helpful. Even Evan’s contributing, in his own grudging way.”
“I…see?”
“Jesse Clark’s offered to play Santa Claus!”
“Who’s that?” Judy asked.
“Evan’s dad and Connie’s husband.”
“Sounds like he had an edge on the part.”
Mary laughed. “Yeah.”
“What about sponsors?”
“They’re lining up! And, I keep getting emails from folks wanting to enter floats.”
“Love it.”
“I know. Me too. It’s really fun to see the whole town coming together. People in Hopedale—that’s the next town over—are helping out in a big way too.”
“I know that was part of your proposal,” Judy said. “To encourage those more prosperous businesses’ neighborly support.”
“I just didn’t realize how generous folks would be.” Mary sighed happily. “It really feels good to see people chipping in.”
“You’re going to pull this off. I can just feel it.”
“I really hope so, and not just on account of Davenport’s reputation, but because of Clark Creek. It’s such a sweet little town.” Mary glanced out her snow-dusted windshield at the tree-lined street and the darling shops on both sides of it. The Whistle Stop Café was right across the way, and there was a sandwich shop a few doors down that looked enticing. Mary decided to have lunch there, then walk the parade route she was planning to follow later with Evan, so she could be prepared for his questions, or—more critically—his objections. “And most everyone here is so friendly.”
“I notice you left the sheriff out.”
Mary hesitated. “I have a feeling he’s not so bad.”
“Oh? Why? Did something happen?”
She thought again of the way he’d teased her about her inspirations. “Not exactly. It’s just that sometimes there’s more to people than meets the eye.”
“Spoken like the sage you are.”
“Ha ha,” Mary said. “He’s very unlike his brothers. Evan. Really different from the rest of his family.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s the sheriff and they’re not?”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
/> “What are you doing about advertising?” Judy asked.
“Well. Since I already have a number of sponsors lined up and floats on the schedule, I put together a preliminary announcement for the local papers in several nearby towns this morning. There’s also a regional tourism blog that lists weekly events. I’ve been in touch with them and am writing something up to submit about the parade. Word of mouth is spreading too. People here are getting excited and telling their friends and families.”
“Nice. Sounds like you’ve got all your bases covered.”
Mary felt a twinge of unease. “Yeah. All but one.”
“What’s that?”
“Lodging. Clark Creek only has one B&B, and that’s where I’m staying now. It’s quaint but not enormous. Only eight rooms.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Evan’s big on complaining about parade complications, and I’ve thought my way around most of them, but not that. He mentioned lodging before and I’m sure he will again. The man’s mind is like a steel trap when it comes to remembering all the negatives.”
“Will people need to stay in Clark Creek? Couldn’t folks from nearby towns make it a day trip?”
“Yeah, but it would be better if some did stay over. Better for the businesses here, I mean. My idea is for the parade to begin at nine on Christmas Eve morning. If tourists arrived a day or two before, they could last-minute Christmas shop or dine in Clark Creek, providing another boost to local businesses.”
“You said Hopedale’s not far away, and that ski resort. Could people stay there?”
“Sure, but then they’d eat and shop there.”
“I get your point.” Judy sighed. “Well, stick with it. You’ll come up with something.”
Mary bit her bottom lip, at a loss. Everything else was going so great except for this.
There had to be a solution somewhere. All she had to do was find it.
Chapter Nine
This time, Evan reached the Whistle Stop Café before Mary. She bustled in the door while he was standing at the counter. Her coat and hat were sprinkled with snow and tiny white flakes dotted her long brown hair.
