Chapter Six
T he band continued to play hit after hit, and the number of guests on the dance floor grew. The air in the room was hot even though no one was tending to the fire which had started to dwindle.
And while her dress left a lot of skin exposed, Jeannie was overheating. Judging from how the other women were fanning themselves and how the men had shaken off their jackets, it was clear that the room needed some fresh air.
She wove her way through the crowd to the double doors that opened onto the patio and propped them both open. A blessedly cool breeze flowed in, the awning preventing the falling snow from entering.
Jeannie took some breaths of fresh air. She needed water. She’d already had a glass of wine and two beers, and didn’t want to spend Christmas morning nursing a hangover.
At the bar, Sam was still busy doling out drinks, his tip jar filled with a healthy contribution from the community.
She drew in a few long sips of ice water from the glass Sam handed her and noticed Lincoln making her way toward her again. Oh good god. Would her grandma save her again?
She scanned the room for Sue just as the sound of a high-pitched squeal filled the air.
Jeannie searched for the source of the panic. Audrey Devlin, the third-grade teacher at the local elementary school, was looking toward the door Jeannie had just opened with a look of terror in her eyes, but the giant Christmas tree was blocking Jeannie’s view.
In seconds, the music came to an abrupt stop, and just as Jeannie looked over to see the drummer staring gape-mouthed at the other side of the room, another yelp came from the dance floor, followed by a heightened murmur of concern. Jeannie moved to where she could see the back door and followed the drummer’s gaze, then gasped.
Poking through the doorway, then slowly entering the room, were the antlers, and then the giant head and torso, of an elk, his snout dipped as he sauntered lazily onto the dance floor.
Partygoers scrambled to put as much distance between themselves and the beast. The sound of feedback came out of the speakers as the musicians dropped their instruments and the animal’s snuff echoed from the ceiling.
“Crikey!” exclaimed Archie from beside the stage, his eyes wide.
“I think it’s eyeing the profiteroles!” called Erik.
The elk took a few more steps forward, clumsily, with its eyes half-closed. Was it rabid? Could elk get rabies?
Partygoers raced by her toward the kitchen, but Jeannie took a step forward and squinted, shaking off Lincoln’s grip on her shoulder. She knew elks’ snouts were dark, but this one seemed to have a pronounced ring around it. All the fur was stained dark purple, like a toddler who had just tried on his mom’s lipstick for the first time.
“Holy jumping! The mulled wine!” Sue exclaimed. “He must have gotten into it!”
With all the excitement from the Aussies’ song and dance, neither Jeannie nor Sue had remembered to bring in the pot. Judging by the lazily moving elk, who in any other circumstance would have stayed as far away from a raucous human party as possible, it did indeed look as though the beast has slurped its way through the entire vat of mulled wine, which must have contained at least twelve bottles of red wine.
“By golly, Blitzen’s blitzed!” breathed Duke.
On stage, the drummer stared at his beer bottle as though it were laced with some kind of hallucinogen.
“Nobody make any sudden moves,” Jeannie heard from the stage. Everett cautiously stepped down from the platform and made his way through the thinned-out crowd toward the elk, his hands raised as though he were approaching a volatile criminal and needed to prove that he wasn’t carrying a gun.
At this point, the antlers were the most troubling. Jeannie had heard stories of aggressive elk charging and pushing vehicles right off the road.
She moved toward where Everett was standing.
“Jeannie, get away from there!” her mother hissed from the other side of the room.
She stayed planted next to Everett. “We just need to lure him back outside,” he said quietly.
Without breaking eye contact with the beast, whose expression was now even more droopy, Everett plucked a sandwich off that someone had discarded before fleeing, then removed the piece of lettuce from it.
He continued to cautiously approach where the elk was standing. Jeannie’s heart raced. If the elk charged, someone would be seriously injured. Or worse.
“Don’t move, anyone,” Everett said, his voice steady and calm. But there were only a few people left in the room. There was something in his self-assuredness and steady voice, though, that gave Jeannie confidence that Everett could solve their problem.
An obnoxious snarl sounded from over near the fireplace. Jeannie turned and saw Lincoln, who had grabbed the fire poker and was making a move toward the elk, waving the iron rod at it. He looked like a child playing with a lightsabre.
The animal didn’t see Lincoln through the same rolled eyes the rest of the people did, and it flicked its ears back. It stomped its front hoof and let out a loud, watery huff. Jeannie froze in place.
“Drop that,” growled Everett under his breath. “It’s already confused. You’re going to make him charge. Everyone else clear the room,” he said, but anyone who hadn’t already escaped to the kitchen, where Duke was holding the door open, was here to see this through.
Lincoln took another step forward. “What do you know about wild animals?” he asked, his eyes darting between Everett and the elk. “I’ve lived here my whole life. You’re just a city boy wannabe musician.”
At that point, Jeannie would have been happy for the elk to have picked Lincoln up in its antlers and carried him far, far away into the woods. If she were Everett, she might have clocked him.
Everett’s eyes glanced from the elk to Jeannie. He needed her help. She gave him a quick nod, and then put her hand on Lincoln’s shoulder, turning him to face her. She looked up at him with doe eyes. “I really don’t want you getting hurt,” she said, and at her words, Lincoln lowered the fire poker a bit, but continued to glare at Everett. “Please?” she asked, turning his chin now with her finger and gazing up at him, giving him permission to abandon his knight-in-shining-armor routine because she wanted, needed , him in one piece.
Lincoln brought his arm down, and she gave him a quick hug, watching over his shoulder and holding her breath as Everett placed one hand on the elk’s face and the other on its strong wide torso and gently pushed it until it started to turn toward the door. She pulled back from Lincoln as soon as she felt it was safe.
“Come on, buddy,” Everett murmured, then pulled the piece of lettuce from his pocket and dangled it in front of the elk’s wine-stained snout. The elk took a tentative step toward the door. Everett continued to walk backward slowly, the giant creature sniffing and following him.
“Jeannie!” Sue hissed from the kitchen entrance. “Get over here!”
She glanced over quickly at her grandmother, then continued to watch as the elk made its way back outside, aided by its guide.
“At least it’s not an angry drunk,” Duke said.
She watched the empty doorframe, still barely able to breathe. What if the elk trampled Everett? Or lashed out with its hooves? Wildlife was unpredictable, and Jeannie imagined even more so when it was three sheets to the wind.
After what felt like an eternity, Everett slipped back into the room, eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and excitement. He slammed the double doors shut.
Jeannie exhaled.
“He did it!” Grandpa shouted back into the kitchen packed with party guests. A cheer erupted, and moments later Everett was surrounded by the few remaining guests shaking his hand and giving him high fives.
Lincoln glowered from the corner. Was he aware he’d just fallen victim to the distraction technique, the oldest trick in the book?
“A party to remember!” Sue said. “I don’t know how I’m going to sleep after that, but I’m going to bed!”
The back door swung open again, and a few cries erupted before everyone realised it was Constable McMurtry, the RCMP officer stationed at the detachment right outside of town. He dusted the snow off his crimson jacket and black-and-gold cap, and he kicked his boots lightly on the door frame before entering, then waved to the group.
“Are you here to escort our new friend to the drunk tank?” asked Duke.
McMurtry paused and cocked an eyebrow. “What now, Duke?”
“Never mind,” said Sue. “Come in. Can we get you something to eat?”
“Not me,” McMurtry said, glancing over his shoulder out the door he’d just come through, where the snow continued to fall. “Just came by to tell you all it’s getting bad out there. County’s closed the highways as a precaution. Anyone who drove needs to leave their car here tonight. If you’re parked on the street, not to worry, no one’s getting towed. But best be getting on home safely before it gets worse.”
By then, the only neighbours who hadn’t fled were the Sunderlands, who lived across the way and a few doors down; Mr. Garrison, who travelled exclusively by cross-country skis, so he’d be fine getting to his cottage a few minutes outside of town; and Erik, who appeared panicked.
“Highway’s closed?” asked Erik. “But I promised my wife I’d be home by midnight. She’s going to kill me!”
Sue looked at Erik, and then at the band members, who were just as stranded as Erik. “Nothing to do now but stay overnight. We’ve got a few vacant rooms. Just give me a couple minutes to make up some beds.”
“Happy to take the couch if you need an extra bed,” Archie offered.
“You can get up first thing and get on the road,” Duke said. “Something tells me they’re just being overcautious. Snowplows will be out all night, and you’ll be home with your wife by the time she wakes up. Go on and give her a call and let her know where you are. That goes for all of you. On the plus side, you’ll get the chance to try Sue’s chocolate chip pancakes in the morning. You may never leave.”
Officer McMurtry wished them all Merry Christmas and was on his way, and just like that, the community celebration turned into a last-minute sleepover party.
Jeannie swallowed a lump in her throat. It was hours before the party was meant to end. They hadn’t even done the group photo, so their final party would be absent from Sue’s collection of group photos from over the years.
Not to mention that the grand finale was cancelled. Duke’s favourite part of the night was his “surprise” fireworks show down by the lake. As always, he was planning to excuse himself right before midnight, and guests could watch outside in their jackets before heading home or from the warmth of the great room through the windows. What did it matter now? The snow would have made the fireworks invisible anyway.
Jeannie helped her grandparents see out the rest of the guests (and choked out an empty promise to visit Lincoln at the ski resort), kissed her parents goodnight, then wandered back into the great room, where she kicked her heels off, then flopped on a couch. It was supposed to have been a perfect last Christmas Eve party, and now people were going to bed at ten o’clock with barely a dent in the dessert table. It wasn’t supposed to end this way.
She stared up at the ceiling, wiggling her toes to get the blood flowing again.
“Any recommendations?” she heard from only meters away.
Jeannie sat up quickly and found Everett standing in the puzzle room, the alcove where Sue and Duke kept their collection of jigsaws and mystery books.
He was pulling paperbacks off the bookshelf one by one, examining the covers.
Jeannie shifted her bare feet to the ground and smoothed her dress. “That’s a good one,” she said, noting the cover of one of her favourite Raymond Chandler books. “Might keep you up, though.”
“Not too tired yet.” He looked over at her. “How about you?”
Jeannie couldn’t suppress a wide yawn from escaping her mouth. “I’m wiped,” she admitted. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that the party had been shut down early. “See you at breakfast?”
“Looking forward to it,” Everett said. “Do I get the morning too? To guess?” A small smile played on his lips.
He was so handsome. And she liked his persistence. “Fine,” she said. “You can have until you leave. But only because it’s Christmas and I’m feeling generous.”
“Lucky me,” said Everett. “All right. Sleep well tonight.”
“Wait,” Jeannie said. “How did you know what to do? You seemed so calm. Like you wrangle elk for a living or something.”
Everett paused, fixing her in his gaze. “I could tell you had my back,” he said.
Jeannie warmed at his words. Did he mean them? “All I did was keep another beast out of your way.”
“I guess we make a good team, don’t we?” He tucked the book under his arm, then extended his hand.
Jeannie accepted the handshake, the warm strength of his grip sending a shiver of pleasure through her body. She held on for a few seconds and looked up into his gorgeous chocolate eyes. “Well, you saved the night, that’s for sure. It didn’t really go as expected. But between that, and the music…” She trailed off. You were the best part of the night , she wanted to say.
“All in a day’s work,” Everett said. He held up the book. “Thanks for the recommendation. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Jeannie echoed, her breathing quick and shallow.
She stood in the middle of the great room until she heard the click of his door closing in the hallway, then lay back on the couch staring at the ceiling again, a tingling desire pulsing through her.
Her dream of the perfect party hadn’t come true. But she was going to see Everett again on Christmas morning. And that made her smile.