Page 72 of Run, Run Rudolph
“Hugo, what kind of magic do you have, and how can it help us?”
“It’s not magic. It’s knowledge. And I can’t use it here.”
“Why not?”
“Rules and regulations.”
“Don’t you think an emergency situation such as this would lead to an exception?”
Hugo refused to say anything further, his arms tightly crossed over his chest.
I sighed and went back to the sleigh. Haden stood at its front corner, and bracing himself, pushed up on it. The whole thing twisted, creaking and moaning. He swore under his breath. “I think the hole’s weakened it, structurally.”
I felt my shoulders drop like the elf’s. “What should we do?”
“Let’s get it into the barn for a better look.”
“This is really bad, isn’t it?” the elf howled, flopping into the snow, fists to his eyes as he bawled unabashedly. “Everything is going wrong. Mrs. Claus will hate me, everyone hates me, and Christmas is doomed.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, feeling as though I had to be strong since he’d called dibs on falling apart. That had been my plan. Because everything did feel rather doomed at the moment.
I sucked in a breath and bent over to pat his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Hugo.”
I nodded, reaffirming to myself that I was with Mr. Fix-Everything—Haden—and that the herd had gone to get the one woman who could magic us out of this mess. It was all going to work out. I wouldn’t even have to make a costly wish to my fairy godmother. There was no need for me to sit down and howl in the snow alongside Hugo.
Look at that. Bright side.
“Let’s get Blitzen hooked up to this thing and see if he can pull it to the barn,” Haden suggested. He let out an ear-piercing whistle, which I guessed was intended as a call for the drunk reindeer, Blitzen.
“Have I ever mentioned how much I appreciate your take-charge personality?” I asked Haden.
“I don’t think you have.” His voice dropped low, confiding like he was sharing something private. I realized he was flirting, and I caught a hint of his smile in the shadowy light from his lantern.
“Definite oversight on my part,” I whispered, crunching a bit closer to him in the cold snow.
He chuckled, holding my arm through the thick layers of my coat.
“Think he’ll come?” I asked, referring to Blitzen. The wind wasn’t blowing at the moment, but he was in the barn. How good was a reindeer’s hearing? Make that a drunk reindeer.
“If not, I’ll go get him. Let’s sort the reins.”
We began untangling the muddle of leather reins and harnesses from when I’d unhitched the herd after the crash. I hadn’t focused on keeping them organized, desperate to free the reindeer, and now the leather straps were frozen into messy clumps.
The elf, startled by Haden’s whistle, had stopped crying and was hiccupping from his spot in the snow, watching us work.
Progress.
I moved around the fully grown poplar tree, tucking a handful of reins into the sleigh’s cab. “Man, this thing is really wedged against the tree.” With Haden’s floodlight, I could see more than I had earlier with my own light. The sleigh must have come to a very abrupt halt when it hit this tree. Poor Santa. No wonder his brain was so scrambled.
“Hello,” Blitzen said merrily, appearing rather stately out of the darkness. I always forgot how much beefier and shorter reindeer were than I expected until I was standing close to them. “Was that whistle meant for me?”
“Well done,” I whispered to Haden, very impressed.
“Can you help us take the sleigh into the barn?” Haden asked, a flurry of flakes landing in his dark hair. His nose was bright red from the cold, and I tucked my chin deeper into my scarf.
“You know who could?” Blitzen said. “Dasher.” He looked over his shoulder as though ready to goad on his competitive herd mate into doing his work for him. Then, as if realizing he’d been left behind by his pals, he sighed and moved closer. “Where do you want me?”
Haden and I worked on hooking the sleigh up to Blitzen, who wouldn’t stop moving. At least he could stand up straight now, giving me confidence that we wouldn’t run into more trouble as he pulled the sleigh over the snow for us. The only issue was that the storm was picking up again, and our visibility was rapidly being eaten away. I hoped he had a good sense of direction.
