“I will.” Lux moved on to embrace Stella and Robyn too. Quik gave Frost a fist bump and followed behind Lux. The two of them were never far apart and were surrounded by a soft electrical hum. Frost had a hard time getting a read on her military-made brother-in-law.
Mom was next in line for a goodbye. “Keep an eye on your sisters, will you?”
“Of course.”
“I can always count on you. You’re such a good-list girl.”
Mom’s kiss was like a branding iron of shame. Frost wasn’t what they believed her to be. If everything went well with Tannon, then she could finally be free of the guilt and the secret.
“Try to have a little fun while you’re there. Don’t lock yourself in your room and read emails to Santa all day, okay?”
Frost swallowed. “Okay.” That was a promise she could make. She was getting out there. She was getting way out there to the one and only place she’d ever wanted to visit for real.
Ginger was next, surprising Frost with a tight, tight hug. Frost wrapped her older sister in a squeeze, and Ginger shivered. The air in the stable grew heavy and time seemed to slow down.
“What?” Ginger stepped back, her eyes going to Frost’s bag in the sleigh. “Frost?” she whispered urgently.
Frost’s eyes widened and her limbs paralyzed. Ginger knew! Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She stood there, unable to articulate a lie or come up with an excuse as she had so many times before. Curse the Kringle gene for rising up now, of all times. She’d always been able to cover her tracks.
Ginger’s brow furrowed in confusion. Of course she was confused; Frost was the sweet sister who dressed like a 1970s housewife. She wouldn’t violate one of the North Pole’s most sacred traditions.
Dad, oblivious to the tension, brushed Ginger and Joseph aside and buried Frost in his peppermint-scented hug. His beard tickled her forehead and his flannel shirt was soft against her cheek. His bowl full of jelly was wide enough that it blocked Frost from the family’s view, relieving her of Ginger’s piercing gaze.
A tear fell on Frost’s shoulder and she glanced up at her dad, certain he was crying because he’d sensed what Ginger sensed and was disappointed. Frost’s heart stumbled. “Are you mad?” she asked.
Dad Ho Ho Ho’d softly, his body bouncing lightly. “Not at all. I just hate seeing my girls grow up. I thought, since you’re the youngest, that you would stick around a few more years. But here you are, flying off with your sisters to find a husband.” He sniffed, his straight nose going red at the end.
Frost relaxed into his fatherly embrace. Maybe his radar was off, or perhaps she’d had him fooled for so many years he didn’t bother tuning in to her anymore. Whatever the reason, she was safe in his arms.
“I’ll be okay.” She lifted her shoulders. “For all we know, this trip will be a huge bust and we’ll all come back single as ever.”
Dad’s lips turned down. “Let’s hope not.” He stepped back, his arms dropping, to reveal Lux’s and Quik’s grim faces.
“What?” Frost asked.
The group quieted down, all eyes on the resident science/computer/Christmas Magic experts. Lux lifted her glasses higher on her nose. “Christmas is growing—quickly.”
“Causing surges,” added Quik.
Robyn pointed at the two of them. “That’s why you guys built the substation.”
Lux twisted her long red hair around her finger. “The substation is able to convert Christmas Magic to electricity at levels that safeguard the equipment. It can handle power surges, but what we’re seeing is sustainable growth.”
Quik took Lux’s hand, a golden arc of light connecting between their palms before the flesh came together. “The magic room continues to increase at a rate of .003 per day. Which would be fine if we had the proper foundation to accommodate that kind of continued expansion. But we don’t.”
“Sooo?” prompted Stella.
“So, the palace is tipping.”
“At this rate—”
“—we need a new power source or the whole thing will capsize.”
“How can it capsize?” asked Mom, her jaw tight.
Lux glanced at Quik, her eyes brightening. “Christmas is highly mathematical, and numbers play a big role in keeping it all level. One Christ child, Three Wise Men, December 25th, seven geese a-laying, 17 million miles of flight on Christmas Eve, 321 thousand tons of toys in Santa’s sleigh …”
Quik picked up the tutorial. “The Jones Polynomial, also known as the knot theory, can explain why Christmas lights get tangled in storage!” His face glowed with excitement and he and Lux exchanged a heated glance.
“What do knots and geese have to do with Christmas collapsing?” demanded Ginger. She took the fate of the holiday seriously.
“It’s off-balance,” blurted Lux.
“But two of us are married. Isn’t that a balanced number?”
Quik held up two fingers on one hand and five on the other. “Two out of five. Think of a pie with five slices. If you only have two in the pan, it’s heavily one-sided. But if you add a third, it stabilizes.” He glanced at Lux. “We’re doing all we can, but the closer it gets to Christmas and the larger the room grows, the more the magic tips.”
Lux bit her lip. “If one of you doesn’t find love before Christmas, we’re in serious peanut brittle.”
“So no pressure,” Stella quipped with her usual lighthearted take on life.
Frost buried her face in her hands, feeling all the pressure. Neither Stella nor Robyn had the potential for love yet. They were starting from scratch. But she had more than potential; she had an invitation. It was up to her to find Tannon, get him to profess his love to her, and save her family, the North Pole, and Christmas for children all over the world. She might just be sick.
Oh, Tannon, I hope you’re ready to love me.
Chapter 4
Around midafternoon Tannon was ready to spew curses at the temp agency. They had yet to send a replacement for Mrs. Garron, and he’d had to field phone calls she would normally redirect as well as dig through her desk, a task he did not enjoy in the least, to find a package of paperclips. The only good news was that Mrs. Garron herself was recovering nicely from a small stroke and should be back to work by the New Year.
If he survived that long. The volume of emails in his inbox was enough to make him want to throw the screen on the floor and stomp on it.
His stress level wasn’t helped by the picture his dad had sent over that afternoon. It was from Halloween, a night Tannon wished he could forget. He’d gotten home just in time to take Brody, all dressed in his Black Panther costume, trick-or-treating. But Brody didn’t want Tannon to take him—he wanted Grandpa. Ever the indulgent grandparent, Dad had agreed to accompany the two of them as they paraded about the neighborhoods located at the bottom of the hill from their mansion.
Brody had clung to his grandpa’s hand for the first half of the night and skipped ahead of them, hyped up on sugar, the second half. Then, as they walked back to where their car was parked outside the iron gate with the family crest, Brody fell asleep on Dad’s shoulder. Tannon had offered to take him, wanting so much to feel his son’s weight in his arms.
“It’ll be too much of a strain on your leg; he’s getting so big now. Better let me do it,” said Dad.
Tannon hated that he was probably right. What kind of a man couldn’t carry his sleeping child? No wonder Brody preferred Dad. Tannon had gone to bed feeling lower than a tree slug. The sense of uselessness had followed him to bed and haunted him this morning was because of his inability to weed through the e-garbage to find the daily weight reports on the logs coming into the plant.
Why was he getting announcements for the weekend sale at Tom’s Furniture anyway? He unsubscribed just to be nasty before moving on to the next email, and then the next, and the next one after that. Sitting up in his seat, feeling as though he were finally making headway, he didn’t notice several men crowd his office door until one of them c
leared his throat.
“Yes?” he asked gruffly. Today was not the day to trifle with Tannon Cebu.
“Well, Mr. Cebu.” A short man in a hard hat and a neon-orange safety vest took two steps into the office. His steel-toed work boots were scuffed and scarred. “We’ve been hearing some disturbing rumors on the mill floor, and the three of us decided to come up here and clear the air.”
Tannon brought in a breath, bringing his shoulders forward and bracing himself. He could only imagine what was on their minds. He didn’t have time for this tomfoolery and made a note to try another agency the moment these men left his office. He needed an assistant and gatekeeper out there. “Yes?”
“Well, you see, sir, some of the fellas said there was a man here the other day offering to buy you out.”
Tannon’s hackles rose. His family owned the mill and the land; what they did with it was their decision and theirs alone. “That’s none of your concern.”
“We make our living here and that says it’s our concern,” said a burly man in the back. His cheeks shook when he spoke and his large hands hung heavy at his sides.
Tannon was not one to back down from a bully. “No decision has been made, gentlemen.” Though he used the term loosely. “If I decide to sell, I’ll let you all know.” About the time that I sign papers and there’s nothing you can do about it.
“So that man was a buyer,” said the short, stocky, and abnormally hairy man in the front. “I knew it. He was too polished for his own good. An upstart, that’s what he was.”
Tannon placed his palms on his desk and rose to his full height. “I’ve had quite enough of this. As my secretary is sick today, please show yourselves out and shut the door behind you.” Shutting doors was a novel idea and one he should have thought of three hours ago.
The men looked at one another. The burly man’s face stormed with trouble while the others grumbled their complaints, but they turned and made their way out of the room. At the last second, the stout man doffed his hard hat, bowed at the waist, and said, “Wha’ever you need, gov’ner.”
Tannon set his jaw. The cheeky son of a gun. If he wasn’t swamped with real work, he’d have the lot of them fired.
The man looked over his shoulder to make sure his compatriots were out of earshot and then ducked back inside. “If you need a secretary, my daughter is looking for a way to earn extra Christmas cash.”
Tannon suppressed a groan. “Is she qualified?”
“Yes, sir. She went to community college and everything.” He wasn’t all bluster when he was on his own. Which just went to show that mob mentality was a problem in his factory. But what was he to do about the problem? The workers had been talking about a union for years, since his grandfather owned the place. As long as they had good health care and reasonable standard-of-living increases in their pay, a union was just an empty threat.
Tannon shouldn’t hire this woman no matter what her qualifications. However, his misgivings, such as they were, could apply to a stranger just as much as a daughter of one of his foremen. “Have her report to me tomorrow.”
“Will do.” He put his yellow hard hat back on his head and tapped it twice.
“Wait, what’s your last name?”
“Cratchit, sir.”
“Very well.” He now had a name for his new secretary. “Ms. Cratchit had better live up to your recommendation, or she won’t last. I don’t have time for foolishness.”
“Noted.” Cratchit sprang out of his office like a cricket.
Tannon fell back into the seat, a move he hadn’t done in some time because it showed exactly how awkward he was with his prosthetic kicking up in the air. That was too easy. The men left without so much as a threat tossed his direction. And he’d gotten an assistant out of the deal.
He drummed his fingers on his desk, mulling over the last ten minutes. “Of course,” he said out loud. With Cratchit’s daughter in his office, the foremen would have an informant who had access to his computer, emails, and personal conversations. Well, they’ll be hard-pressed to get any information out of her, because he wouldn’t let her find any. He’d place boundaries and keep her too busy to snoop. If she was interrogated, she could honestly answer that he didn’t tell her a thing.
Tannon’s phone alarm went off, signaling the arrival of the afternoon mail. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to Mrs. Garron’s desk just as Tim, the office intern, dropped a stack of letters in the In Box. He nodded once at the surprised kid, whose sweater vest hung at an odd angle, before snatching the stack and disappearing into his office like a bear getting ready to hibernate. He didn’t care how he looked. His heart was beating so fast it could have powered the plant. Miss Kringle may be in this stack of mail, and he’d be darned if he was going to miss a moment with the woman who had become his best friend.
He skimmed the return addresses quickly before dropping the stack on the coffee table under the window, his heart now thudding as pathetically as a felled hollow tree. Nothing from Miss Kringle. A letter a day wasn’t unheard of but there was nothing from her today. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Was it even possible to love someone you’d never met? He didn’t know, but he wanted to believe it could be true. Wanted it as much as he wanted to be out of this office cage and free.
Chapter 5
Frost was well aware that there were obstacles standing between her and Tannon. The first was getting out of the North Pole without arising suspicion.
Check.
That had come about rather easily, which only added to her confidence that she and Tannon were written in the stars. If Christmas Magic didn’t want the two of them together, it would have to put up a stink.
The second obstacle was getting to Elderberry.
Check.
Stella had gotten them there quite easily last night. The home, with its four bedrooms, three baths, contemporary light fixtures, and light gray decorating theme, was perfect for the three Single Kringles.
Darn Stella! Her stupid name was growing on Frost. She grinned. It was kind of funny.
The next obstacle was getting out of the house without being noticed and without her sisters tagging along.
Frost cracked open her door and peeked through the crack. The hallway was empty. Stella had taken the master bedroom despite the fact that Frost needed the walk-in closet more than her sister. In order to keep the peace, Frost smiled and did her best to arrange her clothing in the smaller space of the first guest room. She missed the ice cave at home. The magical palace expanded to accommodate her growing fashion designs. Just last week, shoe racks appeared, rimming the entire room. Her heart leapt at the sight and she set about reorganizing her closet so shoes and their complementary outfits were grouped together. The change had revolutionized the dressing process.
Stella’s door was shut tight. Perfect. Robyn had taken the room next to Frost’s. She didn’t care about closet space; she just wanted to be closest to the kitchen.
Robyn’s door hung open. A lump on the bed gave Frost hope that her sister was sleeping off their late-night unpacking session. Though they didn’t need much sleep and could work faster than the average person, they did need to recharge their batteries. Robyn liked to joke that Kringles came with batteries included.
The extra room across the hall was chock-full of empty boxes. The stacks looked like present skeletons to her—a parent’s worst nightmare after Christmas.
Her sisters loved the clothing she’d ordered, exclaiming over each piece as it came from the box and slithered out of plastic bags. Oh, the bubble wrap. Frost laid it on the floor so they walked across it as they unpackaged. She practically giggled herself to sleep last night.
Tiptoeing down the hall, thankful they’d rolled up the bubble wrap and tossed it in the spare bedroom, she made it to the kitchen, her eyes on the door to the garage. Moving with stealth, she zeroed in on the goal, ready to head off on her own and track down the future Mr. Kringle.
“Whoa, where are you headed this morning?
”
Robyn’s voice caused Frost to freeze in place for the count of three before she was able to adopt a casual stroll.
Robyn and Stella were at the table, tucked to one side so they could gaze out over the huge yard, the barn, and the woods. Snow was sparse this time of year. Pathetic patches brought on by an odd October storm were crunchy from time. They marred the dark brown forest floor. If any of them dared to take a hike, they’d come back covered in mud.
Frost glanced down at her red plaid pants, white button-up blouse, navy-blue cardigan with a belt in the same color, and pilgrim shoes. She reached for her Kringle bag, which she’d left on the counter by the garage door. The bag changed from tan to the exact shade of red of her plaid pants.
She’d dressed down for her meeting with Tannon, knowing she was going to see him at work. If it were up to her, she would have met him wearing an emerald-green gown with a velvet bodice and layer upon lovely layer of tulle frosted with glitter. She’d imagined popping down his chimney for just such a meeting last night but completely chickened out. From what she understood of men, they didn’t take kindly to intruders. Tannon hadn’t played baseball, but she was certain he could chase off a prowler with a bat should one surprise him. Besides, he lived with his parents, and who knew which of them would be near the chimney?
The real reason she decided against even knocking on his door was that she wanted to see him before he saw her. They hadn’t exchanged pictures. He’d asked, but she’d say, “You first,” and that was the end of the request. She didn’t care what he looked like, but there was a part of her that wondered. She’d researched the effects of chemo on children as they grew and she didn’t want to act shocked or hesitate because of a surprise in his appearance. Like she was one to talk. White hair and purple eyes made more than a few stop and stare when she went to Mexico to visit her grandparents. Still … She got the impression he was more sensitive about his looks than she was about hers. Sure, men, women, and children pondered her odd coloring, but she’d come to appreciate the unique heritage that made her look like a Christmas fairy. Besides, as a Christmas princess, she was prepared to stand out in a crowd.
Marrying Miss Kringle: Frost Page 4
