Jingle Balls (Evergreen Lake: Under the Mistletoe)

Chapter 1

one

GEORGIE

Deputy Drew Westwood isn’t just a grumpy ass.

He’s a grumpy pain in the ass.

Specifically my ass.

Ever since the hand-painted Christmas ball of him with a chicken on his head and egg on his face showed up on the town tree, he has made it his mission to discover the identity of Jingle Balls.

Luckily—or unluckily, depending on who you’re talking to—that egg on Deputy Grumpy’s head ball went up last year right before the annual festival closed and Jingle Balls quit sneakily decorating the town tree for the season.

But I have no doubt—because I’m watching the man skulk around in the dark by the town tree right now—Deputy Grumpy will be doing everything he can to uncover the elusive Jingle Balls this season.

The problem is I have no idea what he plans to do when he finds out who the mystery Christmas ball painting artist is.

And I am not inclined to help him with the search.

I’m more likely to offer up a distraction—or two—so that Jingle Balls can continue to share joy.

Because that’s exactly what those Christmas balls hand-painted with caricatures of the town’s people do.

They put smiles on people’s faces.

They bring people together for a good chuckle.

They take a fun poke at the town’s residents that the tourists don’t get but laugh at anyway.

Well, almost everyone finds fun in them.

Deputy Grumpy pain in my ass being Evergreen Lake’s lone holdout.

A frown tugs at my mouth as the tall, uniform-clad deputy disappears around the back of the tree.

“What are you up to, Deputy Grumpy?”

In spite of whispering, a stark white cloud of vapor blooms in front of my face threatening to give away my position and I quickly disperse it with a wave of my hand.

It’s getting colder by the second and starting to seep through my clothes, giving me a bone deep chill. I’d rather be inside with a cup of hot chocolate than waiting for Deputy Grumpy to go away but I can’t risk moving before he’s gone.

The man has always been serious—stern—a little frowny and broody, giving off a grumpy persona, and now that I think about it...I don’t recall ever seeing him smile.

Not that I can be sure whether he smiles or not. I don’t have that much to do with him.

If I’m not somewhere in the library offering advice on what to read or reading to the little ones who can’t read themselves, I’m pottering in the garden around Granny’s house.

Although I don’t possess a green thumb like Granny, I do my best to keep her prized garden growing. And I’m ashamed to admit since she passed three years ago, more plants have died than thrived.

But every spring I plant anew in the hope of something sticking around longer than a season. Granny would be proud of my efforts even if she might be disappointed I can’t make anything grow the way she and my mother could.

Unfortunately, I seem to have the same effect on everything around me. Okay, not everything around me dies, but the things closest to me do.

Granny’s prized flowers.

Granny.

My parents.

My brother.

Shaking my head clear of those depressing thoughts, I squint to see if I can find where Deputy Grumpy disappeared to while I was woolgathering.

The rev of an engine echoes through the dark and a grin spreads across my face.

Pushing my back harder against the wall behind me, I wait for the rumble of the diesel motor to fade into the night. Then I wait some more. And to be sure I’m finally alone in the town square, I keep perfectly still for another minute after that.

I barely take a breath.

When the silence surrounds me and the cold sinks so deep it threatens to rattle my teeth and bones, I push off the rear wall of Hanson’s and make my way toward my prize.

I don’t muck around, I need to get the job done and get out of here. Ten minutes later, mission accomplished, I slip through the rear door of the library building, closing it behind me.

Heading straight for my office, I don’t bother with the lights. I know this place better than the back of my hand, and I weave my way through shelves, tables, and chairs with ease.

A flash of light across the room illuminates the last few steps of the way and I lunge forward, ducking behind my office door. It’s only when I hold my breath that I hear the rumble of a familiar engine.

Huh .

Deputy Grumpy is back.

He must be doing a drive through town. Although I think he’s finished for the night because he’s in his own vehicle not a Sheriff department cruiser. Then again, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s using his own time to hunt down Jingle Balls.

Well, too bad for him.

Tonight is not his lucky night.

The ding of my phone has me shooting across the room to silence it even though there is no way Deputy Grumpy can hear the sound or see inside my office. It’s a windowless box, bent to the side of the main room, which means no one can see in without standing in the doorway.

Snatching the phone off my desk, I drop to the floor beside my chair and lean back on the wall.

The notification is from Spend the Night .

And no, it’s not a dating app.

Dating is the last thing I need.

Or want.

Spend the Night is a house rental website.

For the first time since I put the listing up, someone has applied to rent my house.

Starting next week!

For three weeks!

“Eep!”

It’s a last-minute booking but as I haven’t had any interest so far, the available dates are wide open. Or they were.

This one booking has my house rented for most of December. I just have to check their deposit clears before I confirm the booking.

After that, I need to collect my personal items and move into the small room at the back of the garage. That won’t take me long. I’ve spent the last eight months getting ready for this Christmas season.

All Granny’s and my family’s precious keepsakes are tucked into boxes and locked in the storage shed at the end of the yard. The remaining furniture, a few pictures on the walls, the kitchen and household sundries, left in the house are from garage sales or items that have no meaning to Granny or me.

Granny may have left me the house debt free but maintenance on the old place isn’t cheap, and replacing the roof after last winter left my savings sorely lacking.

And I’m not earning a mint as Evergreen Lake’s head librarian.

After everyday essentials, like food and gas for a car I rarely drive, utility bills take up more than I’d like of what’s left of my paycheck.

I can usually manage a few dollars a month into my meager savings account but I know I’m going to have to replace the old furnace in the new year, and I should consider new windows too.

There is no way I can save the amount required for either of those—never mind both—without finding another income stream.

Smiling, I click over to my banking app and hit refresh continuously until I see the deposit from Spend the Night .

“Whoa. That has to be wrong,” I mutter and hit refresh again. I do some quick calculations in my head and… “Huh. They paid in full. Not just the deposit.”

I’m grinning like a fool when I click back to Spend the Night to confirm the booking and details of when and where to pick up keys, as well as where the information booklet I put together on the household appliances and Evergreen Lake is kept for quick and easy reference.

I’ve never done this before and while I’m excited—who wouldn’t be with all those dollars in their bank account?—I will admit to a little trepidation.

I stomp on those negative feelings and remind myself that Ben has done this multiple times and swears it’s easy money.

Not that living in a shoe-box room and showering in a handbasin will be easy, but if I can get enough money to pay for the upgrades on Granny’s house this year— and next —I’ll be a very happy girl.

It will be more than worth the few weeks of discomfort I might be forced to endure.

Because if I can’t repair Granny’s house, I have to sell it before it falls down around my ears. And giving up another home I love will break what’s left of my heart.

I know the house is an inanimate object, that the memories I hold inside me are far more important than four walls and a roof, but it’s the last connection to the family I no longer have. To the people I love most who left me behind.

Rationally I understand leaving wasn’t their choice, except the heart and mind are tricky things, and the holes in my life each of my loved ones has left behind echo with abandonment.

I should probably go back to therapy. It helped after Geoffrey, and again after Mom and Dad…

But I had Granny both of those times. Our shared grief helped pull me through.

Except now she’s gone too.

For a decade it was just the two of us against the world.

A decade where she shared her love of books and taught me to be the best librarian I can be.

Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and conjure memories of being in this building—this very room—with her.

As memory after memory flickers through my mind I swear I can smell her perfume. A sweet, delicate scent that always makes me smile.

And with a smile on my face, I open my eyes and climb to my feet. Snatching up my bag, I drop my phone into it and pull the keys from my pocket.

It’s a short walk from the library to Granny’s house and the crime rate in Evergreen Lake is virtually non-existent, but I’ll keep my keys, with the personal alarm keyring, in my hand while I make my way home.

It’s well past my bedtime and I should be tired, except with the memories of Granny lingering, and the first successful renting of her house, I find my steps light and my veins buzzing with excitement.

That is until I round the front of the library building and find Deputy Grumpy sitting in his idling truck.

My steps stutter, and my mind does the same, which gives him time to roll his window down.

“You’re leaving late?”

His words are a question in spite of them being an obvious fact. I give him a nod and turn in the direction I need to go.

“Get in,” he barks behind me.

The command has my hackles rising but I’m nothing if not congenial and with a smile, I glance over and say, “No, thank you. It’s a nice night for a walk.”

It’s not. It’s freezing. And I’m sure my nose, fingers, and toes will be numb by the time I walk the few blocks to Granny’s.

There’s a squeak of hinges and the thump of feet only a second before Deputy Grumpy appears beside me, his hand wrapping around my elbow in a firm hold.

“It’s too cold to walk and too late to be doing it on your own. I’ll give you a ride.”

I don’t yank on my arm. I want to, everything in me wants to, but I know how to maneuver my way around the grumpiest of toddlers, this six-foot-three equivalent can’t be any harder.

“Thank you, I appreciate you offering, but I like to clear my head after a long day at work and?—”

With a growl, he pulls me closer and lowers his face until I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. “Get in the truck or I’ll put you there.”

My eyes dart back and forth between his and I can see he isn’t going to back down on this and it is only a couple of minutes by car—a warm car—where as it’s probably closer to ten if I walk…

I tip my head back to give myself some breathing room and offer up my biggest smile. “Since you asked so nicely, yes, thank you, I’d love a ride.”

Before he can say anything else, I twist my arm from his grip and step around him, making a beeline for the passenger side of his truck.

I’m in the front seat, door shut, belt clasped before he’s even turned around.

I keep that big smile on my face too.

The whole time it takes him to climb behind the wheel and put the truck into gear.

The short drive to Granny’s house.

And when he pulls into Granny’s driveway and I hop out, I keep that smile in place and wave my thanks before jogging across the front yard onto the porch and slipping inside without once looking back.