Page 143 of Not Your Average Vixen
Denise nodded. “The main power to the mountain is out. You might have noticed the flickering lights. Delores told us that was the generator kicking on. Dan’s been trying to run power to the gondola, but the generator isn’t powerful enough. We didn’t want to worry you, but it looks like we may need to make alternative plans.”
“We know how much you wanted to get married at the chapel, Lori, but I’m not sure what can be done,” Grace said, squeezing her sister’s hand.
Bridget paced a few steps back and forth in the corridor.
Not the gondola!
She’d worried this could happen.
Think, Bridget! Think!
“Has anyone checked the weather report? Is the snow supposed to taper off soon?” she asked.
Scott joined them in the hall. “No, in fact, it looks like another eight to ten inches could fall before tomorrow. And there’s something else.”
Lori threw the man a nervous glance. “What else?”
“The judge isn’t here. He left me a message last night that he was going to spend the night in the village at Kringle Acres. I thought that he’d returned early and just went to take a nap, but Russ says he hasn’t seen him all day.”
“The snow. He’s probably stuck there because of the weather,” Bridget replied, leaning against the wall.
No gondola to the chapel.
No judge to marry Lori and Tom.
“And the rings,” Tom called from the main room.
“The rings?” Lori repeated, her voice going up an octave.
“I’m sorry, honey. I gave them to Scooter for safekeeping. He put them in his pocket, and I don’t think he ever took them out.”
“Oh no!” Lori cried on a tight breath.
Bridget’s heart hammered in her chest.
Had Soren kept the rings on purpose?
Anger, coupled with intense disappointment, burned in her veins.
“I’ll run to the room and see if the rings are there,” she said, breaking from the group.
Had this been his plan all along?
She blinked back hot tears as she went through his things, throwing his clothes onto the floor, and found nothing.
She set her sights on the chest of drawers. One after another, she rifled through the extra towels and sheets but found most of the drawers empty. She slammed the last one closed, then banged her fist on the top of the dresser.
How many more things could go wrong?
At the end of her rope, she rested her head against the wall.
“What now? How do I fix this? What would you do?” she whispered to her grandmother. But instead of hearing a voice from the great beyond, a five-year-old called out.
“Hurry, Birdie! It’s coming up the mountain!” Cole cried from the main room.
She wiped a tear from her cheek and released an exhausted huff of a laugh. Another near Christmas fairy sighting, she presumed. Add it to the list of disasters and near misses.
She could sure use a little Christmas fairy magic right about now!
