Chapter 13
Violet
The town was cuter than I’d known.
I’d probably spent too much time hiding in my apartment since I moved here. Just today I’d visited more places than I had in the last six months. And it was all because of my Secret Santa.
Before the Jingle Mingle Market, I’d gone to Beaux Arts. Then Herman’s Foods, followed by the Silver Pines Gift Shop.
Everywhere I went, people already knew me. They even said they’d been expecting me. And now I had three more clues, which didn’t tell me much.
One clue was to look for the biggest truck around. But this was a town where every man drove a giant pickup. Aemon from HR was off the list. I’d seen him driving an antique pickup truck, much smaller than the kind they make these days.
Another clue was that, unlike the real Santa, he didn’t have white hair. That knocked Ralph and Tim right off the list.
And the final clue I’d gathered today was that he was an early riser and liked to watch the sunrise.
That made me recall a conversation I’d heard in the breakroom a few weeks ago.
Javier and Christian had mentioned that they’d gone to the local bar, the Bear Den, that weekend and slept until late in the afternoon. That knocked them off the list.
That left just Peter, Will, Justin, Mike, and Frank.
The list was shrinking.
Once again, I found myself wishing Easton’s name was on the list.
But I didn’t have time to think about that for too long.
I was in the middle of a bustling crowd of shoppers. Snow was on the ground, and a nip cooled the air. I’d walked here from my apartment because my car had made a bad chugging sound earlier this week. The prognosis was that I needed a new transmission to get it running again.
Which made me glad that this town was so small. Everything was within walking distance. Although the cold winter temperatures were not a pleasure to stroll in.
The shop-keepers and artisans at the Jingle Mingle Market had so many tempting things to buy.
But my pocketbook didn’t want me to spend a dime.
I’d been sending all my money back home to help with my sister Melinda’s medical bills.
She’d had a complicated pregnancy a few years back, and the whole family had been pitching in to whittle down her debts.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” the woman behind the goat milk soap table asked as she packaged up one bar for me. I was going to bring it home to my sister for Christmas.
“Uh, yeah. I relocated for work.”
“Well, I’m Kat and this is my husband, Jake. And over there is our dog, Betty Sue. I think you’ll love it here. It’s a welcoming town.”
Kat and her husband looked like wild mountain folk. But there was something shining in her eyes, like she was more alive than most people.
I wonder if all the fresh air gives her that sparkle?
She handed me the package. “Where did you say you worked again? We don’t have that many businesses, and I’ve never heard of someone relocating to work here before. Usually, people leave the mountain to go find a good job.”
“Oh, I’m with Von Renpel Enterprises. They gave me a transfer offer.”
“Is your name Violet by any chance?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
Kat and her husband shared a side-glance with each other.
Then, with hardly a change in her tone, but one that was noticeable to me, Kat said, “Locals do it better.”
She was giving me a clue! He was a local. That should narrow the list down.
“Tell me who it is. Please?” I begged.
Kat’s eyes glimmered with mischief. “Naw. Can’t do that. You’ll have to hear it straight from the man himself. He’ll reveal himself in time. Good things come to those who wait.”
“But he’s local?”
“Born and raised.”
I almost leaped over the booth to get to her. “I need to know who it is. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t think about anything else. I have to solve the mystery.”
Kat grinned. “It was nice meeting you, and I hope you like your soap. Now there’s a crowd forming behind you, so move along.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw there was no one nearby.
Noone except… was that Easton?!?!
I craned my neck, but all I saw was a flash of dark hair and a hint of a flannel collar walking in the other direction with his back turned to me.
Then I realized that could describe half the men who lived in this town.
But something about the way the man walked looked like Easton.
I felt like I’d recognize his sexy butt anywhere.
The way my heart leaped at the thought of him made me feel sad. Why did I want to find out who my Secret Santa was, anyway? I only wanted Easton, and he was already taken.
A gray cloud dampened my mood.
As I started to walk away, Kat’s husband Jake said, “Wait a minute. There’s something you should know. Your mystery guy is in deep for you. So if he’s not your type, let him down easy.”
Jake seemed like he knew something. And he was being more talkative than the other people who’d given me clues.
“You know who it is? Do you think he’s not my type? What’s my type?”
Jake glanced down at the clothes I was wearing. “I’d expect you to get with an office man. You look a little buttoned-up, hon.”
“And you’re saying my Secret Santa’s not an office man?”
Jake bellowed with laughter. “I can’t tell you more, or Kat will kill me. Just know that he’s a really good guy.”
I walked away feeling even more confused than before.
All the men on the list were office types.
If I crossed office men off the list, it would be empty.
None of this made sense.
Taking my mind off that, I ran through my Christmas shopping list. I was flying home on Christmas Eve to see my family for a week, and I wanted to bring each of them something special from Red Oak Mountain.
I’d bought my dad a jar of local elderberry honey. My mom was getting a pair of handmade earrings. And my sister was getting a bar of the goat’s milk soap that I’d just bought.
My roommate, Rachel, had recently flown the coop, leaving me and Red Oak Mountain behind. So that meant I didn’t have to shop for her. Which was good since I couldn’t afford to pay my rent, fix my car, and keep up with sending money back home for my sis.
If she had stayed in town, I wouldn’t have had to spend much.
Last year, we’d traded gift cards to our favorite coffee shop on the way to work.
I probably would have picked up a gift card for her to the Cozy Bean, which was the only coffee shop in this town.
Lucky for me, they made a decent cup of coffee.
Crowds were bustling by when I stopped in my tracks.
What the…
A sign caught my eye that didn’t make any sense.
‘Get Your Christmas Cock-Warmers Here. New designs just released by Holt and Ellie.’
I peered into the storefront window where tiny crocheted items—that did indeed look like they could slip onto a man’s dick—were decorating a Christmas tree.
The whole tree was festooned with them. And at the very tippy-top where a star or an angel would normally be, was a dildo wearing one of the crocheted pieces, as if to illustrate how it should be worn.
My gaze wandered from the bizarre cock tree and landed on skeins of colorful yarn and cheerful finished pieces.
It appeared to be a knitting store.
The whole place looked alive for the holidays.
I saw at least three more full-size trees deeper in the store. One had crocheted ornaments on it. Another had winter hats and scarves decorating it. And I couldn’t quite make out the last one. It almost looked like knit reindeer dolls.
That’s when I spotted a scarf near the front window. I hadn’t noticed it at first because of all the distracting cock-warmers. The scarf was hanging down with a light beaming right on it, and the colors in it caught my eye.
It was a patchwork of patterns. Colors that shouldn’t have gone well together somehow peacefully coexisted on the scarf.
Blues, greens, purples, reds, oranges, yellows.
And over the whole thing were gold and silver threads sewn in no pattern that I could discern, but somehow the entire effect was still delightfully pleasing.
More than pleasing.
It was actually perfect.
Then I furrowed my brow and took a step back.
What was I thinking?
First off. Ah-hem. The price tag?
Who the hell can afford to pay a hundred and twenty-nine dollars for a scarf? I don’t care if it was knitted out of diamonds, I couldn’t pay that price.
Second, were those colors. Even though I loved the scarf and everything about it, when would I possibly wear something like that?
It was artistic where I was bland.
It stood out where I tried to fit in.
It made a spectacle out of itself.
A woman like Kat, the goat farmer slash soap maker slash mountain woman I’d just met, would wear a scarf like that.
But me?
I’d only look at a scarf like this. I’d end up buying a beige one on some clearance rack for under ten dollars because it would be warm enough and it would go with everything.
I took another step back, pulling my eyes off the scarf, as a tiny pinch went through my heart.
I wanted that scarf. But it was just like all the other things I wanted in life that I couldn’t have.
The cost of that scarf would probably cover the water bill this month. What would I rather have, that scarf or a hot shower?
I scoffed and turned to go, people streaming all around me.
That’s when I slipped on a patch of ice.
A shriek slipped out of my mouth as my foot slid out from under me and I started to go topsy-turvy.
Bracing myself for the hard surface of the icy sidewalk, I waited for an impact that never came.
Instead, strong, rugged arms caught me and pulled me up.
All I felt was the sudden warmth of a big man. As I looked up at him, all thoughts of the scarf disappeared from my mind. I’d found something I really wanted for Christmas.
I was staring straight up at a giant, sexy mountain man.
He had dark hair partially hidden under his wool hat, a thick tangle of beard and eyes that seemed to peer straight into my soul.
It was Easton.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a husky voice.