Chapter 20 Noelle
NOELLE
Despite the shit I gave my captain and coworkers, the meeting lit a fire under me.
I’d find the truth one way or the other. And if it exonerated the Vipers from any wrongdoing, well, then I’d consider that a perk to a job well done.
Icy air bit my cheeks and numbed the end of my nose as I stood bookended between Ash and Bishop.
They helped haul the donations, and I began the sorting process.
Most would be sorted later, but there were a few I could help tidy up to speed up the process later.
Childish laugher made my heart light, and seeing the Christmas lights along the clubhouse put a permanent smile on my face.
Rafe did all this.
Everyone helped, but it was all because he’d changed his mind and let them bring the Christmas spirit to life.
The long line of cars snaked around the drive and onto the road.
The ones who were there just to see the lights and participate in activities were guided to a parking area to the east of the house.
“Is it always like this?” I motioned at the cars stretching past the curve in the road.
Ash shook his head and thanked a woman handing him a box of toys. “Not even close. We get a lot of donations, but never this many. Usually, we’d see the end of the line by now.”
I checked the box of toys and handed the man one of the thank you notes I’d spent the morning writing on thick cardstock.
He grinned at me, then tipped his head toward the side where Colt handed out hot chocolate.
“This is great. Never thought I’d see it lit up. Perfect house for it, with those gabled edges.”
“That was my first thought when I came here. It’s the perfect gingerbread house.”
A burst of renewed laughter pulled my attention to the opposite side of the house.
The snowball fight that had started earlier slowed to the occasional tossed snowball, but the kids continued to run in circles.
A few had dropped onto their backs and were busy making snow angels.
A few of the Vipers members watched from the sidelines, looks of longing on their faces.
One girl popped up from the snow and grabbed Brent’s hand.
I couldn’t hear the conversation from where I stood, but it became clear what she wanted when Brent followed her over to a patch of fresh snow and fell onto his back.
He waved his arms and legs, great bellows of laughter causing more kids to sink into the snow and copy him.
“I’ll be back.” I halfway expected Bishop or Ash to stop me, but both men nodded and resumed accepting donations.
My boots sank into the churned up snow, and I bent to make a snowball.
Tossing it from hand to hand, I eyed Brent.
He was just high enough up the chain of command that he might have the information I needed.
I lobbed the snowball at his back when he stood.
It hit right between his shoulder blades, and he turned.
A surprised look flitted across his face before he made his own snowball and threw it at my face.
I ducked with a laugh and closed the distance, holding my hands up in surrender. “Quite a show out here.”
He shook snow from his hair and combed it back with his fingers. “Oh, yeah. Just wait. It gets better.”
“I’ve been told that a few times, but I don’t know what it means.” I did my best not to drill him with questions.
Time ticked down too fast for me to keep dancing around the subject of their supposed smuggling, but I couldn’t push them too hard without risking the trust I’d built.
That fine line grew thinner when Brent shrugged. “Not my place to talk about it. If Rafe wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”
In other words, I was shit out of luck.
It was great that Rafe inspired such loyalty.
What kind of criminal could do that without threats and/or bodily harm?
Had I misjudged him this whole time and he really was the irredeemable asshole I’d first thought?
Brent walked away when one of the other guys called his name.
Ever since Ash and the others laid claim to me, no one else in the club made any kind of advance toward me.
They were polite, kind, and they answered my questions when they could.
Nothing else.
“Hard to believe a bunch of hotheaded bikers put on a thing like this, huh?” A woman in a long black peacoat sighed into the crisp air. “I used to think they’d ruin the town. No one wanted a motorcycle club taking up residence here.”
I waited for her to say more, but a lingering pause prompted me to break the silence. “And what do you think about them now?”
No one in town knew about my involvement.
This woman might suspect since I’d been at the donation table, which meant I’d have to run her response through a filter to extract the truth.
She shrugged one shoulder.
Normally, that would show uncertainty, but the hard chips of ice in her eyes said she knew exactly what was going on.
“They’ve never given me any trouble.” She grinned easily. “And trust me, as mayor, I keep close tabs on my residents.”
“Mayor?”
I should have known that.
I’d researched the locals but kept it mostly to the cops and other people I might need to avoid.
Her laugh mingled with that of the kids running past us. “Don’t worry, it surprises most people when they see me here. But it’s important that I show my support.”
A man walked up behind her and kissed her cheek.
“You’ll never guess the latest rumor.”
He hugged her to his side with one arm around her waist. “Doug over at the post office just told me that someone came in yesterday and told him that his neighbor spotted one of the Vipers stealing that inflatable snowman from someone’s yard.”
The mayor rolled her eyes. “Good grief. If these people would put half as much effort into telling the truth as they do making up lies, I wouldn’t need to spend sixty hours a week in my office sorting out the nonsense.”
“Is it that bad?” I held my breath as I waited for her reply.
“I’m telling you, rumors about the Vipers are abundant, and most are as fantastical as they come. You’d think they murdered unicorns as a hobby from the way people make up stories.”
She tucked her hands into her pockets. “I’d better get back to making my rounds.”
A screaming laugh tore through the air, and I turned toward the sound.
No matter who I tried to talk to, I either got shut down or was told that no one had a first-hand account of any wrongdoing on the Vipers’ part.
I followed the laughter to the other side of the yard.
Children surrounded Colt, who looked past them with his mouth hung open.
“Are you going to put up more decorations next year?” A young girl tossed her pigtails over her shoulders, then rubbed her red nose. “It’s so pretty.”
Several others chimed in with their delight, wanting to know why they hadn’t ever decorated before.
Colt fielded the questions with non-answers and tried to redirect the kids’ attention. “Look who’s here.” He pointed, and his entire face shifted from surprise to shock.
“Santa.” The kids chorused together and bolted toward the front porch.
“Ho-ho-ho, Merry Christmas.” Rafe’s rough and tumble tone might as well have struck me with lightning.
I turned slowly, totally unprepared for the sight of Rafe in an honest-to-goodness authentic Santa replica costume.
Everything about it, from the black boots to the beard, made him look like he’d walked off a Santa Claus movie set.
No cheap imitations dared infringe on his authenticity.
He gave a deep belly laugh and stomped down the steps. “Are you having a good time?”
The kids bellowed a cacophony of yeses and leaped up and down in the snow.
“Good.” Rafe held out his hands. “If everyone would be so kind and create a line, Santa’s going to sit right over there and you can all come up one at a time and tell me what you want for Christmas. Does that sound okay?”
Again, the screaming agreement echoed so loudly, my ears rang.
I tried to speak but shock stole my voice. Rafe was dressed as Santa.
The man who made it seem like he hated Christmas. What had changed?
Rafe grabbed one of the rocking chairs from the porch and carried it over to the outside tree they’d decorated in giant C7 bulbs.
The kids fell in line behind him, and as soon as he sat and motioned with one hand, a kid tore across the snow and clambered into his lap.
I’d never seen kids make a line or be so well-behaved with no one there to tell them what to do.
Must be the magical power of knowing Santa sat right in front of them.
No one wanted to risk losing out on their Christmas present because they jumped line or jostled too much.
Every single child on the premises raced over and joined the line that started several feet away from Rafe.
Soon, the line stretched all the way across the front of the house.
“Santa’s here.”
The same two words swept down the line. Soon, even parents joined their kids, and the line grew.
A boy next to me looked up and grinned. “He’s really here.”
“Doesn’t he always show up?” I needed clarification on my suspicions, and who better to ask?
He sniffled and rubbed his nose.
“Nope. First time I’ve ever seen him here.” He watched Rafe, his eyes filled with awe. “And he looks like the real one. This is so cool. I’ll for sure get my present this year.”
My heart pinched at the hopeful look in his dark eyes.
The boy stood on tiptoes to peer over another boy’s head. “Santa always delivers gifts on Christmas Eve, but he’s never taken requests like this before.”
He had to be seven or eight, right on that age where disbelief began to sink in.
I considered asking him more questions, but no way I’d be that person who put doubt in the boy’s head.
Let him believe in Santa.
Let him have these moments of hope and joy.
I made my way down the line, stopping to ask a few of the kids if they were warm enough or needed anything.
“Are you Santa’s elf?” The girl with pigtails stopped me by grabbing my hand.
“I… yes.” I nodded emphatically and winked. “I’m Santa’s elf.”
“Good.” She didn’t say a word about my wearing the wrong thing or being the wrong size.
She simply accepted that I told her the truth.
Oh, to have that kind of faith in people.
“I’m glad you get to see Santa today.”
Her face pinched into a frown. “Me too. I tried to catch him last year when he brought my presents, but he figured out my trap.” She huffed and raised pleading eyes to mine.
“Please don’t tell him. I wasn’t going to do anything bad, honest. It was just, well…
I found out the day before that my best friend didn’t get to see Santa.
She was new in town, and she thought he wouldn’t know where to find her. ”
A woman a bit further down the line spoke up. “He made it to her house anyway.” She squeezed the hand of a little boy. “Just like he made it to ours. Santa never leaves anyone without a gift.”
I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes before she blinked them away.
All around me, parents and kids told stories about waking up on Christmas morning and finding gifts under the tree.
Parents swore they didn’t buy them, and kids promised that some of the gifts were things they’d not told anyone else they wanted but had written letters to Santa, and their requests had been met.
It was all too much for my brain to comprehend.
Every year around Christmas, some inexplicable gifts showed up under these kids’ trees.
How was he pulling that off?