Page 71 of Run, Run Rudolph
I spied a reindeer dozing in the corner of the barn. “Wait. Blitzen is still here.”
“He was grounded from flying by Rudolph until he sobers up. Plus, they didn’t have enough flying oats to get him home.”
“Oh. That’s not good.” Could Blitzen be stuck here forever along with Santa? What if Mrs. Claus refused to make more oats? Everyone would be stranded where they were.
Haden, as though sensing my rising panic, took my hand and tugged me toward our coats. “Let’s go check on the sleigh.”
His warm fingers entwined with mine were a fine distraction, and I felt my worries ease up a notch.
In this moment, with Haden choosing me, I didn’t even care what the town might think about me moving on to a different Powell brother.
My spirit rose at the idea of having a man like Haden to call mine, and at the idea of finally living the dream with the sweet man I’d crushed on for so many years.
There was no more squelching my truest feelings for this smart, handsome, and kind man.
As we exited the barn, Haden said, “Maybe we can bring the sleigh inside, so when the elves arrive, they can work on it in the light and warmth.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Snarky tagged along with us to the crash site, Haden taking the lead with the giant floodlight from his veterinarian truck.
What if the elf was stuck here forever? That was a distasteful thought.
“So, you rode underneath the sleigh?” I asked Hugo, wondering how he’d managed such a feat. It must have been a cold and wild ride.
“What’s it to you?” Hugo snipped.
“Just making conversation. Also,” I continued, “why didn’t you go back with the reindeer to get Mrs. Claus?”
“Do you need special oats to fly, too?” Haden asked him.
“I’m an elf. We don’t fly.”
“But I saw you fly away with the reindeer when they went to get Santa.”
“You did?” I asked, surprised by this new info. Maybe I wouldn’t be stuck with Sir Nasty Pants after all.
“I wasn’t flying. I was surfing in the wake from the reindeer.”
So he was a hitchhiker, huh?
When we arrived at the sleigh, Haden ran the beam of his light over its damage. The front right runner was badly broken, and the cab, or whatever you called it, had a jagged hole near where Santa had sat.
“Might only be cosmetic,” Haden said, testing the strength of the pieces surrounding the hole.
“Are you an engineering or construction elf, by any chance?” I asked Snarky.
“No.” He stood in the snow, shoulders sagging, expression glum.
“Do you have magic that could help us?”
“I’m not allowed.”
“But you have magic that could help us?” I edged closer, tuning out Haden’s verbal monologue about what was wrong with the sleigh, and the possible fixes.
“I don’t think Santa can fall out of that hole, if that matters,” I called over to him, then crouched beside Hugo.
“Probably won’t help the sleigh’s aerodynamics,” Haden muttered back.
