Dawn Temple - Moonlight and Mistletoe

Damn. Considering his daughter’s high level of disdain for him, Walker’s presence would erase what little progress Kyle had managed to achieve. If Walker showed up now, their win-win would become a lose-lose.

He had to find a way to make sure that didn’t happen.

By noon Saturday, Shayna was more stir-crazy than the year she’d been cooped up with the chicken pox for four straight days. She called city hall to check on the sand truck’s progress and found out Shiner’s Gulch was at least two hours down the list.

Frustrated by the familiar inconvenience, she called Lindy and canceled their lunch plans. If the bridge didn’t open before three, she’d be hard-pressed to get herself dressed and ready and delivered to the Knights of Columbus Hall by four-thirty.

Hoping to calm her nerves, she treated herself to a warm soak in the tub before shaving her legs and washing her hair. Now that the time had come, she was suddenly nervous about serving as Ms. Noel. With Walker’s request hanging over her head, maybe now wasn’t the best time for her to be so visible.

But she couldn’t back out. The kids and the community were counting on her. Besides, if she didn’t give the festival her best, then Walker won.

Ninety minutes later, she was plucked, coiffed, lotioned, powdered, sprayed and spiffed to within an inch of insanity. Thank goodness she’d never been one of those gals who dressed to the nines every day.

Careful not to upset her fancy hairdo, Shayna slipped into her new red dress. The back zipper gave her a bit of trouble, but once she’d conquered that, she had to admit the costume fit like a dream. Mrs. Hollister, her old home ec teacher, would be proud.

If only they’d learned to make shoes in school. Then perhaps she’d have been able to come up with an alternative to the white, knee-high disco boots Ms. Noel had been sporting for the past four decades.

Cautiously, she approached the mirror in the corner. The woman standing there took Shayna’s breath away. Between the tousled hairdo and the snug red dress, she actually looked…sexy. In a “Secret Nightlife of Small Town Librarians” kind of way.

The new costume flattered her hourglass figure without making her look like a harlot, and the faux fur that outlined the scooped neck, cuffs and A-line skirt gave the garment a sophisticated yet playful look.

She still thought the boots were ridiculous but paired with the new dress, they actually looked okay. Sexy even. She’d feared they would make her look even shorter, but somehow, the opposite was true.

In the corner, the phone rang, and a niggle of déjà vu raised goose pimples on her arms. She breathed a sigh to see the caller ID showed city hall.

“Hey, Shayna. It’s Martha. I just wanted to let you know the bridge is clear. You should be good to go.”

She checked the clock. As long as nothing else unexpected popped up, she should make it on time. “Thanks, Martha.”

“No problem. Break a leg tonight.”

“Way things are going today, I’m afraid I might.” Laughing, she hung up and started to gather her things.

Grabbing the bag with her change of clothes, she hotfooted it out the door. As she drove toward the bridge, she was shocked to discover Kyle’s car had already been towed away. Boy, he sure didn’t waste any time.

Shiner’s Gulch bridge still had a few lingering patches of ice clinging to its edges, but she made it across without incident. Just as she pulled into the KC Hall parking lot-thirty minutes ahead of schedule, thank you very much-her cell phone rang. The number was local but not one she recognized.

She cleared her throat and forced a smile into her voice before answering. “Hello?”

“Shayna, thank God. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning.” The frantic voice belonged to Joe Kincaid, whose father had volunteered to play Santa this year.

“Is something wrong with Elmer’s costume?” Goodness, after the disaster with her costume, she should have thought to double-check his.

“No, the costume’s fine, but-” Joe paused, a tense breath vibrating across the phone line “-Dad’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, God, Joe. What happened?” She listened as Joe recounted the story of his elderly father slipping on a patch of ice this morning while picking up the paper.

“The good news is nothing’s broken, but his back is out. Doc’s ordered him to bed.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you have a cure for orneriness.”

“‘Fraid not.” She snickered softly, glad to know Joe’s sense of humor remained intact. “Guess I’m going to need a new Santa, huh?”

“Yep. I’d volunteer, but-”

“Nonsense,” she interrupted. “You take care of your dad. I’ll find someone else to pose for pictures with the kids.”

“I think you’re getting the easier end of that bargain.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

After finding out Joe had already dropped the Santa costume at the KC hall, Shayna reminded him to call if he needed anything and hung up.

Poor Elmer, she thought, glancing at the car’s clock. Poor me. How in the world am I going to find a replacement volunteer at the last minute?

Her first thought was Danny, who was always ready to help out, but he was six-six. The red wool pants wouldn’t cover a man that tall. Fortunately, the jacket was designed for a “jolly” tummy, so almost any upper body would work.

She considered asking Travis, but he was in charge of the carnival, and that was too important of a job to hand off to a last-minute replacement.

Mentally scrolling through the men in town, Shayna could think of only three other men who’d fit the suit and would possibly be willing and able to help out at the last minute. As she dug through her center console, looking for a list of committee members and their phone numbers, she saw the duplicate set of documents Kyle had left her.

Kyle. He’d certainly fit the suit, assuming there was enough padding in the state of Tennessee to turn his hard, flat stomach into a “bowl full of jelly.” But would he be willing? More importantly, could she bring herself to ask him, considering everything between them?

There had to be someone else who could fill Santa’s boots. And she would find him. The photo booth was one of the festival’s biggest moneymakers.

She headed inside and began her search. A few minutes later, she’d exhausted her short list of right-sized men.

“Darn, darn, darn.” She buried her face in her hands. Time to either call the pageant director and let her know there’d be no Santa this year or somehow convince Kyle Anderson to do her a major favor.

Reminding herself it was all for the kids, Shayna snatched up the Santa wig and suit and raced back out to her car. So far, the only bright spot was knowing exactly where to find Kyle. The Sheltering Arms was only three blocks over. So finding her man wouldn’t be the big struggle tonight. Convincing him to don a padded belly, a fake beard and an itchy wool costume was the true challenge.

Was it too early for a Christmas miracle?

Kyle stared at the familiar-looking stranger staring back at him in the mirror. The guy had his face, his build, but the wardrobe was a shocker. At least his new clothes fit. And he had to admit, in comparison to the baggy coveralls he’d worn at Shayna’s home, the stiff jeans and soft flannel shirt didn’t look half-bad.

Laughter drifted up from downstairs where his fellow boarders were enjoying an early supper so they could make it to the Junior Miss Noel Pageant on time. Kyle had declined supper, but he certainly intended to make the pageant.

Shayna might be able to ban him from her home, but she couldn’t keep him from attending public events. No matter how badly he’d screwed things up with her, he still had a job to do, and with Walker threatening to intervene, Kyle couldn’t afford to waste a second.