Page 37 of Never Sleigh Never
After hanging up, I kill the TV and stare at the ceiling. Tomorrow will be better. Or Brie will find a new way to sabotage it, unless she’s given up. But if I know her, she doesn’t give up easily.
The next morning, after dropping Josie off at school, I drive to Reindeer Ridge. Once parked, I kill the ignition and climb out. My boots sink into the fresh powder from last night’s snowfall. Next to the barn, Henry’s muscling hay bales onto a trailer.
“Hey Henry!”
He straightens and pulls off his gloves. “Hey Logan.” We meet halfway and he greets me with a handshake.
“I wanted to stop by and arrange reindeer for the carnival.”
“About that…” He studies the snow like it holds answers. “They’re all booked.”
“All eighteen?” My stomach drops. Reindeer are a pivotal component of the carnival. What Santa doesn’t have reindeer? Henry rubs the back of his neck. I arch a brow. “Brie?” His gaze drifts up to meet mine, lips pressing into a thin line. His silence confirms my answer. I grit my teeth. “If she wants a Christmas war, she’ll get a Christmas war.” I called it. I had a feeling it wouldn’t stop at the town’s boundary line. I have to hand it to her; she’s grown a backbone since high school. If she thinks a lack of reindeer at the carnival’s going to stop me, she’d better prepare for a little tit for tat.
Henry lifts his hands, palms out. “Leave me out of this. I still have a business to run.”
“Of course. I’ll be sure to add some extra signage for Reindeer Ridge around the carnival. By the way, what’s the tallest Christmas tree you have this year?”
“I have a fifteen-footer.”
“I’ll take it!”
He winces. “I usually save that for Brie.”
“I’ll pay you double.” Henry twists around, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes tick over the fields. “Triple.”
“Shit,” he mutters, then sighs. “That’s a really good price. Are you sure you’re not doing this to get back at Brie?”
Obviously, I am, but I also don’t want this to interfere with their friendship. “It’s business.” I lift a brow.
“Yeah.” He nods, dropping his gaze to the snow. “And I can definitely use it.” He drums his fingers on his thigh. “Alright. I can’t turn down the money.” I hold out my hand, and he grips it with his, shaking on it.
“What’s the second tallest tree?”
“I have three twelve-footers.”
“I’ll take those too.”
“Jesus,” he mutters.
“It’s business,” I reassure him, which is technically true, but also includes a side of revenge.
After moving my newly gained trees across the street, I spend the rest of the afternoon adding the finishing touches to the s’mores hut and lacing up my skates to test out the rink. The second the blades cut into the ice, my brain quiets. My mom likes to say I came into this world wearing ice skates. It’s where I feel most comfortable. Most relaxed. Plus, a winter carnival in Minnesota is like Santa without cookies—possible, but why? Minutes turn to hours as the sky transforms to vibrant hues of red, orange, pink, and purple. My fingers are numb, and my legs are pleasantly dead. I glide toward one of several benches surrounding the rink and exchange my skates for my boots. On my way home, I stop at the Crooked Reindeer.
As I step inside, the usual chorus of hi Logan and hey man, rolls through the bar followed by a couple of chin lifts and a few back slaps. At the end of the bar, I claim an empty stool.
Before I’m fully seated Simon slides a beer to me. “I found some of my old hockey equipment to donate for the junior league tournament if you want to pick it up, or I can drop it off?”
“Great. Thanks. I can pick it up. I tested the ice today, and it’s perfect.” I take a swig of beer.
“That didn’t take you long to lace up.” He tilts his head. “How’s the rest coming?”
“Good. I have everything set up and I have a wide variety of vendors. Everything’s coming along smoothly.”
“How many teams do you have for the hockey tournament?”
“Surprisingly, I have ten adult teams and six junior teams, which will make for a nice, long weekend of hockey.”
He goes quiet, eyes on mine. “Question for you. Are you doing the carnival because you want to? Or is there another reason?”
