Montana Secret Santa Read online

“Homeland Security maybe, but… more likely she follows you on social media and saw a couple of the selfies you posted. Of us. And the dogs.”

  Her jaw dropped. “That explains it.”

  “Explains what? Krista, I’m confused. You knew what your mother was planning. You told me your family’s visit was a possibility days ago. But now that it’s really happening, you don’t want them to come? Why? Because of us?”

  “Yes. No. Maybe partly.”

  He tossed the box of lights he was holding into the cart and stepped close enough so no one else could hear. “Last night went way beyond any expectations I might have harbored, Krista. It was the best gift ever. But I know how crazy making the holidays can be. And I don’t want to add to your stress. So… what if I take off as soon as your parents arrive?”

  “Go? Where?”

  “Florida.”

  “What about the dogs?”

  “I’d need your help. Heck, if your mom can get her deposit back, you can host your whole family at my parents’ house. Only four bedrooms, but the sofa makes into a pullout bed in the den downstairs. The dogs would love the company. You’d be helping me immensely and I’d be out of your hair. No awkward introductions necessary.”

  Nothing in his tone implied hurt feelings. His smile appeared genuine and compassionate. An out-of-the-box thinker trying to solve everybody’s problems.

  “How soon would you need an answer?”

  He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Whenever. Think about it. Talk to your family. You’ve seen our place. Nothing fancy. But Mom does have a really nice pre-lit tree in the attic that she’s very proud of. Just plug it in and be done with it. Or you can bring your own ornaments.”

  The offer was kind. Magnanimous, even. And it made her want to cry.

  “Now,” he said, turning back to the aisle of holiday decor, “tinsel would probably get us in trouble with the city, but what about some colorful swags?”

  When she looked at the choices, her eyes were drawn to a smaller section at the end of the aisle. Blue and white.

  “We’re Jewish.”

  He nearly dropped the gold rope he was holding. “You are?”

  “Half. My mom. Mostly nonpracticing, unless it makes a difference when she’s reading for a role. Although in all fairness, Mom hasn’t read or tried out for a part in years. Decades, maybe.”

  He took two steps sideways and added a menorah and candles to the cart. “My contribution to your multicultural holiday. What’s your dad’s heritage?”

  “Puerto Rican Catholic. His excuse for staying married all these years, even though he hasn’t stepped inside a church since my christening, if you believe Mom.”

  He took her in his arms so sweetly she almost melted into a puddle of half-love, half-anxiety. “Krista, sweetheart. Relax. We’re Secret Santas, remember? How ’bout I make a wish on your behalf? Dear Secret Santa, my friend is very worried about her family coming for the holidays. Please do everything in your power to make it a pleasant memory for her.”

  Take me to Florida with you. She almost asked him, hanging on to him a bit more desperately than the situation required. But she knew that wish was not an option.

  *

  Jonah was shocked by how quickly his spur-of-the-moment, on-the-fly idea came together. The call to his parents went as well as could be expected. They sounded both worried and resigned—they knew him, but since they also knew Krista, Mom applauded his choice of replacement dog-sitter.

  Finding a ticket on a commercial flight at such late notice might have been a challenge if he weren’t flying first class. Since the goal of Montana Secret Santa was to have all wishes fulfilled by the week before Christmas, he didn’t see any conflict with his volunteer work.

  The only conflict came from leaving Krista.

  He tried his hardest to keep his heart out of bed. Sex, ma’am, that’s all I’m here for. He told himself that when she popped over to help him set up the Christmas tree and they wound up snuggled together in a big quilt on the floor in front of the fireplace, the nosy dogs safely locked in Jonah’s parent’s bedroom.

  But despite the lusty interludes impinging on their decorating time, the house quickly took on a cheerful, holiday vibe. Krista even made sugar cookies, which they then decorated—badly—to share with the Secret Santa volunteers at Copper Mountain Chocolates on Monday morning.

  “They taste better than they look,” Jonah said, depositing a festive snowman-shaped plastic plate on the table where five of their regulars had gathered. He wasn’t surprised not to see Em, since a fierce wind delivered a couple of inches of snow during the night, closing quite a few roads. He and Krista had huddled under extra quilts listening to the house groaning and shuddering from the powerful gusts.

  Sarah Zabrinski chose a red and green heart. “Sweet. Thank you. And I wanted to tell you both how amazing the fire house tree looks. We drove by on the way here. I’m so impressed with the way you two saw a need and filled it.” She smiled at Jonah. “You should come work for the Big Sky Mavericks Foundation, Jonah. We need innovative thinkers who can make a difference in the world.”

  “I’m an engineer not a philanthropist.”

  She shrugged. “Tell that to Justin Oberman, a mountain climber who worked with a group of engineers to design a special rigging to be able to share the experience of bouldering with people in wheelchairs. You never know where your expertise might come in handy.”

  Krista waggled her finger at Sarah, playfully. “Not so fast, lady, I saw him first. He’s going to make me a climate controlled shipping system for Sage’s precious chocolates, remember?”

  Something he’d completely forgotten about, but obviously Krista hadn’t. A twinge of doubt followed him to the counter where he ordered two cups of cocoa. Surely she was joking. Krista wasn’t the deceptive, lying-in-wait-for-a-big-payout type. Was she?

  He hadn’t thought that about his other two mistakes, either, and his naiveté cost him a bundle.

  A bad taste formed in his mouth as he studied the beautiful products displayed in the climate-perfect display cases. Could that have been Krista’s wish when she whispered in Santa’s ear? Santa, please bring me a gullible nerd who falls in love at the drop of a hat and doesn’t know when he’s being played.

  Jonah had used his wish for one thing. Krista.

  Guess I should have been more specific. Marriage. Kids. The whole shebang. Not a quick holiday fling in exchange for a bit of nanotechnology.

  He tried to hide his disquiet, but the hour seemed to drag on forever. Several people commented on his less than jovial manner.

  “Just trying to wrap up loose ends before I leave. Krista has agreed to dog-sit so I can be with my family in Florida.”

  Sarah drew her purse onto her lap. “When will you be back?”

  “Not sure. I’m hoping either Dad or my brother will come back and relieve Krista. I need to make a side trip to California to check on my house.” My lab. “In case I don’t see you again, I want to wish you all a super Christmas. It’s been a pleasure working with each and every one of you.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, young man,” Sarah told him, her tone stern. “But that schedule doesn’t work for me.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I can appreciate you and Krista both celebrating with your respective families. But you can’t eschew the entire holiday season, Jonah Andrews. Bad enough you’ll miss the Daughters of Montana Ball. A real live prince will be attending you know.”

  Did he care? Not a bit.

  She produced two black envelopes from her purse and passed one to him and the other to Krista. “My gift to you for your hard work and dedication.”

  Jonah’s stomach clenched. One didn’t need a doctorate from Oxford to identify the impressive gold logo. He broke the seal and slid out the handsomely designed invitation to confirm his guess.

  You’re invited to the second annual Big Sky Maverick’s New Year’s Eve Masked Ball.

  “Robert and I missed this last y
ear because we were babysitting the twins, but I’ve heard nothing but glowing reports. So we reserved a table, and we’d truly like you both to be our guests as a small token of our appreciation for helping to keep Montana Secret Santa alive.”

  Krista jumped to her feet and hurried around the table to give Sarah a hug. “This is so generous of you. I attended last year but didn’t make it till midnight.” She blushed in the sweet way that revealed that soft inner core she worked so hard to protect. “Bad date issues.”

  “You missed the kiss at midnight?” Sarah cried, as if some dating felony had been committed. “That’s when the magic happens. Just ask Justin and Nikki Richards. They knew each other a long time ago, met by chance at the masked ball, kissed at midnight, and got engaged a few months later.”

  Krista looked at Jonah, her expression unreadable. “Is there a chance you might make it back in time?”

  The part of him that knew beyond a doubt he loved her wanted to sweep in and play the role of romantic hero. But the critical thinking side of his persona shouted, “Why postpone the inevitable?” When it came to making relationships work, he had the skillset of a third-grader.

  He shoved the invitation into his backpack. “I’ll try.”

  Krista turned away to answer some question about her family before he could read her reaction. Was she hurt? Angry? Worried he might have slipped off the line she’d used to hook him?

  Or was he overthinking everything? Like usual.

  They’d discussed the ephemeral nature of holiday romances—not to mention, the incompatibility of their immediate goals. She had a business to run. He had to decide what he was going to do with the rest of his life—and where? He belonged in the tech-savvy, innovation-driven think-tank of the Bay area. He couldn’t picture himself living full time in Marietta. He hadn’t fit in as a kid and still didn’t.

  But, almost as if to refute that fact, the other Santas took turns giving him the small, thoughtful gifts they’d brought. A red tie with the Montana Secret Santa logo embroidered discreetly in green. A Copper Mountain Chocolates mug filled with white chocolate peppermint truffles—his new favorite. A bag of rock salt, windshield scraper, and instant hand warmers from Em, who’d apparently left her gifts with Sage in case of inclement weather.

  He felt genuine warmth and friendship in their hugs and had to choke back the lump in his throat as they said their good-byes. But he corralled his emotions to remind them they still had one more Secret Santa wish to complete—the tree lighting at the fire station. “We’ll see you all at six-thirty tonight, right? I have a little something for each of you, too.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jonah barely had time to rush home for a quick trot around the block with the dogs and a shower before it was time to head to the fire station. His ambitious plan would never have happened if not for the collective heave-ho from Harry Monroe’s fellow firefighters and three volunteers who had been firefighters before moving to Montana—Tucker Montgomery, Flynn Bensen, and the guy Sarah had mentioned earlier in the day, Justin Oberman.

  Krista had wanted to help but putting the finishing touches on the video had taken longer than expected. She’d seemed pretty choked up the couple of times they spoke on the phone. For a person who prided herself on being all about business, the woman clearly had a hard candy outside with a crème truffle center.

  “Damn. I almost forgot the chocolates,” he exclaimed, rushing to the refrigerator. Bindi blocked his way, her tail waving in expectation. “Sorry, girl, no candy for you.”

  Her tail drooped.

  Impulsively, he put his index finger to his lips. “Don’t tell the others, but you can go to the lighting ceremony with me if you want.”

  She headed for the back door as if she understood every word he said. He grabbed the bag of Copper Mountain Chocolates he’d ordered a week ago. Inside, were the dozen individual gifts he’d picked out specifically for each member of his Secret Santa team. By now, he knew what each person liked best. And he’d included a small card with a handwritten note and hundred-dollar bill in the envelope Rosie had taped to each box.

  He poked his head into the living room to check on the other dogs. Sound asleep, as he’d hoped.

  Fifteen minutes later, he and Bindi pulled up to the fire station. Naturally, Krista beat him. He parked behind her car and got out, one hand carrying the gift bag, the other firmly gripping Bindi’s retractable leash—on its shortest setting. No more knocking over unsuspecting strangers.

  “Is the projector working?” They’d opted to buy a digital unit after testing the one Dad had used in his classroom and for coaching. He and Krista had chuckled at a few of the slides he’d found in a cupboard. His parents in college. So young. So happy and carefree.

  “It’s great. Slightly above my pay grade—technology-wise—but Gretchen was able to hook it up without a problem.” She motioned him over to the small table they’d set up in the well-shoveled driveway.

  A young woman in a warm-looking parka and knee-high winter boots trotted toward them from the door of the firehouse. “It’s plugged in, Krista. And the firefighters on duty promised to move the table before backing out if they get a call.”

  Krista flicked the power button. “Jonah… Gretchen Zabrinski. Gretchen, Jonah Andrews.”

  The meager light from the streetlamp made it hard to draw any details about Krista’s new employee, but Bindi’s excited bay seemed like a positive endorsement.

  The girl dropped to one knee to greet Bindi on her level. “I miss our doggies so much. If you ever need a dog-walker, don’t hesitate to call.”

  Jonah filed away the information but didn’t have a chance to say more because people started arriving. Krista joined him as soon as all the Secret Santa volunteers were present. “The family is all here, Jonah. I think it’s show time,” she said.

  Jonah picked up the microphone they’d tested earlier and motioned for the fire captain and the members of his brigade to join him in front of the crowd of thirty or more people. “Merry Christmas, everyone. My name is Jonah Andrews. I’m not a public speaker by trade, but I am cochair of the Montana Secret Santa Society, along with Krista Martin of Blue Sky Promotions. I know I speak for Krista when I tell you what a privilege and honor it’s been to work with this group of amazing volunteers.”

  He gestured toward the group, which included his favorites—Em, Louise, and Sarah Zabrinski.

  “Normally, we’re a quiet bunch. We like to help out Santa without a lot of fanfare, but this year, we had a special request, and fulfilling it meant thinking outside the box.” He looked at Krista and smiled. “It was brought to our attention that Marietta lost a very special man this year. A caring, giving soul who put others first and never met a stranger. His name is Harry Monroe. Son. Brother. Friend. And brother-in-arms to these brave firefighters behind me.”

  He waited for the swell of applause to die out. “We wanted Harry’s family to know that his memory is alive and well and living in the community he loved, so Krista—with the help of Harry’s sister, Jenny—put together a slideshow that will be a permanent part of the fire department’s website starting tomorrow.”

  The fire captain himself had been so moved by the video, he’d hired Krista to expand the concept to include all their fallen heroes over the past ten years.

  “When this short tribute is over, Harry’s mother and father will do the honors of plugging in the tree. Please come back during the day so you can see the dozens of photos of Harry and his comrades in action. These men and women are heroes every one. Never forget that.”

  He stepped back and looked for a woman with distinctive auburn hair and a white collar at her throat. “Pastor Samantha Zabrinski of Cornerstone Community Church in Paradise will say a prayer, and then the Cornerstone Choir will lead us in a few of Harry Monroe’s favorite Christmas carols.”

  Samantha gave him a big smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder as she took the mic and turned toward the audience. “It’s a chilly night. I
know you’d all rather be home by your fires, but the fact you’re here speaks volumes about the kind of man Harry Monroe was. Let us give thanks that he was in our lives and his memory lives on.”

  Jonah bowed his head, but he missed most of the prayer when Krista stepped to his side and slipped her arm around his back. His arm settled across her shoulders as if they’d been made that way. He lowered his face to the top of her fuzzy cap. Alpaca, she’d told him. It smelled like her. God, he was going to miss her.

  He’d decided on a change of plans that morning in the shower, but he didn’t plan to share the information with Krista. She had enough on her plate and he didn’t want her to think she’d somehow ruined his holiday. The exact opposite was true. From this point on, he’d compare every future Yuletide experience to this one. His Secret Santa Christmas with Krista.

  “Amen,” Samantha said.

  The muffled word echoed across the driveway, street, and snow-covered grass under the stately spruce.

  She pocketed the microphone and gestured to a group about a dozen strong standing a short distance away. Tapping her fingers in midair, one, two, three, the choir began to sing “O Come, All Ye Faithful.”

  Slowly, other voices chimed in.

  Krista looked at him and smiled. He couldn’t tell if the extra moisture in her eyes was from emotion or the cold but something powerful passed between them. Unspoken but real. The thing that would sustain him when he got to California.

  She stepped away, nodding toward a middle-age couple coming toward them, several children at their heels. Krista led them to the agreed-upon spot and waited while Jonah made certain the connections hadn’t come unplugged.

  When the song ended, she handed Harry’s mother and father each an end of the two extension cords. They plugged in the two ends and the fifteen-foot spruce lit up. Twenty-nine strands of multicolored bulbs. Yards and yards of silver tinsel ropes. And at the base of the tree, in a weatherproof frame lit by a spotlight rested a photograph of Marietta’s fallen hero—Harry Monroe.

  *