Page 129 of Run, Run Rudolph
“Look under your tree,” Rudolph said quickly.
I swivelled, but saw nothing under my heavily decorated tree.
“The other one,” Rudolph called as they all disappeared.
Haden and I looked at each other. He was a bit pale.
He let out a gust of breath. “All of it was real. All of it.” He sat on the couch. “Wow.” He pushed a hand through his hair, making it stand on end.
I sat beside him, still trying to puzzle out Mrs. Claus’s seeming change of heart toward me. To say I was relieved was an understatement.
“Are you okay?” I asked Haden.
He was smiling, his grin growing wider and wider. He pulled me into his arms with a laugh. “I’m doing amazing!”
I laughed with him, happy to be able to share the spirit of the season, and our magical secret adventure with him again.
He kissed me long and slow, my body softening against his. I could do this all day.
Haden broke the kiss, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “What other tree?” There was still the odd thing that didn’t quite click into place for him from the other night, but, as for this clue, I wasn’t sure what it meant, either.
“The Christmas tree in the barn?” I mused. “Except it disappeared with Santa.”
Haden inhaled sharply, eyes bright. I could see a memory lodge itself more fully, fitting into the story I’d told him to flesh out the fleeting, fuzzy memories he’d retained.
He pulled me to my feet. “I think I know which tree.”
And even though the clock said it was two in the morning, and we were in the midst of a second winter storm, I followed.
“What on earth?” I was standing under the big poplar Santa’s sleigh had hit, in the glow of Haden’s giant flashlight, surveying my ‘Santa gift’ with amazement. “How did they know? How did they get these here so quickly?”
Haden reached out and gave the closest racing barrel a nudge, seeming to not quite trust his eyes. I knew the feeling.
The barrels I needed to race my horse around were real. And they had been left by Santa.
“I have so many questions,” I whispered.
“Tell me about it.”
“I also hope the reindeer aren’t still drunk. Because what if they stole these from a neighbour as some ongoing stag party game?”
Haden laughed. He’d been doing that a lot over the past couple of nights, shedding that serious older brother skin he’d so often worn.
“I don’t think they were drunk,” he said. “Besides, would Santa allow such blatant thievery?”
“Probably not.”
Snow was falling, collecting along Haden’s dark toque. I leaned over, going up on tiptoe to give his cold lips a warm kiss. I could get used to this, to him. He pulled me close with a happy groan, deepening the kiss.
“We’re wearing far too many winter layers,” he complained. “I can barely enjoy your soft curves.” He began pulling me back toward the house, but a soft crackle caused us to look up.
“Haden? Look!” The snow that had been falling only moments ago had cleared. We had a straight view to the dark, star-studded sky where the aurora borealis was ablaze, streaks of green and pink dancing across the heavens. As the auroras moved, they dipped so low, it felt like I could reach up and touch them.
“Beautiful,” Haden murmured. His arms slid around my waist, and I leaned back against him. Silently, we watched nature’s show, our breathing synced as the lights danced and shimmered, grew brighter and closer, then retreated, fading, before appearing again.
“Where did the storm go?” I asked.
Haden pointed to the night sky. Off to the right, in the direction of town, was the silhouette of a sleigh being pulled by nine jaunty reindeer.
