Page 17 of Saved By Noel
“Yes, I have a dog in here.”
“The mayor of the town keeps a dog in the office during his one hour a week on duty. And you’re him. The mayor ofNoel.”
I glance down at Chase, who whines and paws at the floor, begging to go over to Clara. Like he senses her discomfort.
Which, honestly, wouldn’t take an intuitive dog to figure out. She’sobviouslyspiraling. Her cornflower eyes are wide as saucers, and the color has drained from her face. It makes her freckles stand out even more.
“I’m so stupid,” she whispers so softly I barely hear it. “I can’t believe this. This, this is just . . .” the volume of her voice creeps up with each word until she practically yells, “I’ve been hoodwinked!”
She turns on her heel, moving to march right out of my office, but Chase lunges and cuts off her exit. He stands directly in front of her, wagging his tail and giving her his irresistible puppy eyes. He raises a paw in the air but waits for her to initiate touch with him.
Clara reaches a hand down for Chase to sniff, letting him smell her before scratching him. Chase takes it as an invitation to nudge his head under her hand, demanding ear scratches and chest rubs.
Thankfully, Chase’s distraction gives me the seconds I need to collect myself enough to respond. “Clara, what are you talking about? Why did you come in here? And how were you hoodwinked? Also, who even uses the word hoodwinked anymore?”
My line of questioning apparently reinfuses the bluster that Clara had lost in the shock of seeing me. She pivots back to face me with renewed agitation on her face.
“I came in here to file a complaint against your city, Mayor Noel. I washoodwinkedinto believing that this town of No-el would be brimming with Christmas cheer. That I was purchasing a property in a city that would celebrate its Yuletide roots,” she says. The fire blazing in her eyes could easily ignite a Yule log.
It takes everything in me to tamp down the attraction to that fieriness burning through me. I focus instead on the insult of her words. The insult against my family name, against my management of the town.
“Imagine my surprise when I pulled into town last night and found zero Christmas spirit. Not a trace! How dare a town called ‘No-el’ not celebrate Christmas! It’s just . . .wrong!” Clara finishes, arms crossed and glaring at me.
I narrow my eyes back at her. “First of all, this town isn’t called ‘No-el.' My ancestors founded and named the town, and our last name is pronounced ‘Nole.' Second of all, we don’t advertise any kind of Christmas festivities because we don’thaveany Christmas festivities. Every generation of the Noel family has guarded against the town being turned into some sort of gimmicky, holiday tourist destination. Any expectations to the contrary you may have had were your own.Mytown is not to blame for your assumptions.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Clara accuses. “Everywhere I turn in this city, businesses are boarded up and closed. The town looksdead.”
I try not to flinch, but the barb hit its mark. My defenses spring into place, triggered by the fear that I’m failing at my one job as mayor—holding this town together.
“Even if your dear ol’ ancestors didn’t want to host any Christmas festivities, why not embrace the opportunity to draw more people now? It could breathe life back into the town again, boost the economy for an extra couple of months of the year.”
Clara maintains her glare in my direction, jutting her chin and straightening to her full height, trying to make her point. Her thumb wildly spinning the ring on her index finger is the only crack in her composure. But I was born for stubborn stare-downs. I cross my arms and mirror her stance without answering.
Chase’s head jerks frantically back and forth between us, unsure which of us needs emotional support more. Even though it’s clearly Clara.
Her chin quivers, and she turns away muttering, “I can’t believe this. Can’t believe it’s you.” She hurries to the door and flings it open. Halfway out, she fires back over her shoulder, “I want my plant back,ifshe’s even still alive!”
Then she’s gone, Chase whining as he watches the door close. He scratches his paw against my leg, trying to comfort me.
“I don’t need it, boy. I’m just fine.”
At least, I’ll keep insisting to myself that I am.
Chapter thirteen
Clara
Iclose the front door behind me and scream into the emptiness of my cabin.
I’m such an idiot,I tell myself as I yank my shoes off.
Pacing the living room, I dial Dawn. “You could have told me that this stupid town is called Nole, not No-el, and that there is exactly zero Christmas atmosphere here!” I scold the second Dawn answers.
“Umm, whoa there tiger, what in the world are you all feisty about?”
I take a deep breath. “Dawn, when you sent me the listing for this cabin, had you bothered to do any research at all about the actual town of No-el? That there is no Christmas festival? That it’s actually pronounced ‘Nole’?”
Dawn hesitates. “I mean . . . no.”
