Santa Paws: BBW Holiday Bear Shifter Romance (Christmas Bear Brothers Book 1) (5 page)

He laughed, “That would mean no one would be happy. Most of the time we get what we think we want, not what we actually want or need.” He picked some candies off the shelf. “Here, she likes these too.”

“You’re a good man,” Vicky said, and the look in her eyes told him she thought he was too good for her.

“We all have our weaknesses,” he said and went to the counter to pay. She confused him—what was she hiding that she couldn’t trust him with? Now that they were bonded mates she should be able to share whatever she wanted with him, but she held back, and he longed to ask her directly, but he had the intense impression that if he pushed her too much she would run. Run and never stop. Not just from him, but from the thing that lurked in the corners of her mind.

“What are you?” he asked, when they were nearly back at her cabin. “You guessed I’m a bear. But I have no idea what you are.”

She gave him that look again that said she didn’t like questions, but rather than avoid it entirely she said, “Why don’t you guess?”

“And if I get it right, you’ll tell me?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

They went inside, the warmth hitting them. “Are you some kind of cat? There are cougars further up the mountain. Is that where you come from?” He hadn’t thought about it, but maybe she hadn’t run so far after all.

“No. Not feline.”

He gave it some thought. Somehow, he was thinking that she wasn’t a predator at all. That the reason she looked so worried was because his bear frightened her. “A rabbit?”

She laughed. “A little bigger.”

“Not a horse?”

“Too big.” She went to the kitchen, and he followed, thinking of what else she could be. “I’ll tell you what. You make some coffee, think of a list of animals, and I will go and take a shower.” She put her purse and the gift she had brought Sorcha down on the counter.

“Sure. Although you could just show me.”

“And spoil my fun?”

She kissed him swiftly and then left him alone to think. Maybe he would need a clue.

“OK,” he said aloud. “A fox maybe, or a deer, yes. Might be. Or a little donkey.”

Across the kitchen, her phone rang in her purse. It made him jump, but he let it ring; her business was her own. But when it stopped and rang again immediately he felt his resolve slipping. The fifth time it rang, he snatched it out of her purse and said, “Whoever this is, stop calling. Vicky is
not
interested.”

“Wait. Who are you? Are you her mate? Are you Vicky’s mate?” The voice sounded relieved in some ways. ‘Listen, if you are, I need your help.
She
needs your help.”

“Whatever you're after, buddy, you are not getting anything from me. Now stop calling.”

“Please, don't hang up. Listen to me. Give me two minutes of your time and then if you don’t want to help, I will stop calling. But once you’ve heard what I have to say, I hope you will do the right thing.”

Dermot stalled, his hesitation long enough to elicit a further sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “You might want to sit down. What I have to tell you might take some believing, but I swear on Christmas that what I am about to say is one hundred percent true, and the fate of Christmas lies in your hands.”

She came out of the shower in her robe, drying her hair with a towel, to find him sitting on the bed waiting for her. Only he didn’t look as if he was waiting to make love to her. Pity, she couldn't help thinking of the way his hands felt on her body.

“Everything OK?” she asked warily, once more remembering that they had only just met. Don’t say he was going to turn out to be an axe murderer, or something.

“I thought I would tell you my guess,” he said, watching her carefully.

“OK.” She put the towel down and grabbed her hairbrush; could she use it as a weapon if she needed to? Death by hairbrush. No, she hadn’t ever read that in the news.

“I think you are a reindeer. A very special reindeer.”

The brush fell from her hand. How the hell did he know that with such confidence? “Rudolph,” she said.

“Damn it. It is true. Even when I hung up, I couldn’t quite believe it.”

“You answered my phone?” she asked, angry tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

“Yes. I was going to tell him to leave you alone, but then he told me he was trying to help you.”

“There’s no point. You can’t help me. I have no magic. I’ve lost my Christmas spirit.”

“What exactly does that mean?” he asked, his face bewildered as he tried to take in what she was saying. It would have been so much easier if she had just denied it, and she felt a fool for not doing just that. But he was her mate and she couldn't lie to him, not over something so big.

“It means that I can’t pull the sleigh. I need to be able to fly to do that, but with no Christmas spirit—well, I’m useless to Santa and all the other reindeers.”

“Don’t say that. You are not useless,” he said. He hesitated before he asked the next question. “This is for real, right? I mean, you aren’t messing with me?”

Tears pricked her eyes and she went to him. Holding him close. “I wish I was joking. I wish I were just an ordinary woman. I mean completely ordinary, that I didn’t even have my other side.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, but inside her that other side, her reindeer, stirred, and looked utterly hopeless and dejected.

“You can’t mean that,” he said. “If you didn’t have your reindeer, you wouldn’t feel what I feel for you. You wouldn’t know that we are perfect for each other, and that fate has made the right decision for us to be together.”

“The same fate that made me a reindeer who is meant to pull Santa’s sleigh and then tore it away from me.” She leaned her head on his chest, feeling the rise and fall as he breathed. “Why did this happen?”

“I don’t know. But let me help you find out. Let me help you get it back.”

“I have no idea why it left me. It’s not as if I just woke up one morning and had stopped believing in Christmas; it was a slow slide. You know, you hear the news and something terrible has happened; you listen to people in the grocery store complaining that they never have enough. It all kind of snowballs and then, when the season of giving came round, I found I had nothing to give.”

“We can fix this.”

“I’ve been trying.”

“OK. Listen, call me crazy, but I have seen people who are depressed, really depressed, so bad they don’t want to live. But they come back. I think you just need to find the right thing to make you appreciate life.”

“I thought that would be you,” she said weakly.

“You would have thought. I mean, who would not be ecstatic to have me as their mate?” he asked innocently.

She laughed through her tears. “I
am
ecstatic. If only this other thing wasn’t hanging over me, I would be leaping up and down with joy.”

“But this means a lot to you?”

“I am going to let the whole world down. You see, I think it only works if we are all together, all pulling the sleigh.”

“You
can
pull the sleigh.”

“On the ground,” she agreed. “But I need my Christmas magic to fly.”

“Maybe when you get there you will have it.”

“Maybe, but I don’t have it now. It kicks in a couple of days before Christmas so that I can fly to the North Pole. I don’t have it.”

“Then I’ll get you there.”

“Dermot, it’s already Christmas Eve. There are no flights, no way of getting to the North Pole.”

“Leave it to me. You get dressed. Nice and warm, and leave the rest to me.”

He took out his phone and left the bedroom. Vicky stood still, not sure what to do. If she allowed herself to believe this would work, would the disappointment be too great if he failed, if she failed? But if she didn’t try there would be thousands, no millions, of disappointed children tomorrow morning when their stockings were empty.

Clutching the last strands of her hope to her chest, she took off her robe and began to dress in her warmest clothes. The North Pole was a long way away; the temperatures there were incredibly low. Pulling on her third sweater, she stopped. This was complete and utter madness. But when Dermot appeared with a smile on his face, she knew that at least she had someone to share the madness with, and she didn’t want to let him down.

“I have our transport booked; well, the first part of it anyway. So all we have to do is head over to the airfield. But I have one important stop to make first.”

She followed him out, shutting the door of the cabin. This was where she had expected to spend Christmas, all alone, but the town of Bear Bluff had a lesson to teach her, and she was coming round to the idea that she wanted to be taught. If Dermot could help her, she would love him forever. Vicky felt her heart lurch. She already loved him, for his enthusiasm and his kindness, and because they were fated mates: that would never change. She would love him forever. And ever.

His excitement spilled over and he broke into a run, the snow crunching under their feet as they crossed the road. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the hospital,” he said, pointing in front of them where a tall building rose up, the lights visible through the falling snow.

“Why?” she asked.

“You’ll see.” He pulled her into his arms, to keep her warm. She had so many sweaters and coats on, she was in danger of overheating, but she didn’t push him off.

Across the drive leading to the hospital, he took her to the main entrance, which was decorated with a large Christmas tree. Pretty lights were wrapped around it, and balloons, tinsel, and other festive decorations were hung everywhere.

“This is for all the people who can’t be with their loved ones this Christmas,” he said, showing her the dining room, which was also decorated. “They will sit together, those who can, and eat a traditional lunch. Those that can’t make it down here will have company. No one will be alone.”

“Is this why you brought me here?” she asked.

“No. I’ll show you why I brought you here.” He ran up the stairs, two at a time, dragging her along, despite her protests. “We’re on a schedule,” he said breathlessly.

“As if I didn’t know,” she said, telling herself to keep breathing.

“Here,” he said, throwing open the door off the children’s ward. “This is what Christmas means to me.”

Sick children looked up from their beds. Their parents were smiling, several of them saying “hi”
to Dermot. A bed had been pushed aside and the kids had their very own Christmas tree. It was decorated with lots of lights, and the biggest star she had ever seen adorned the top.

“This is where you will find your Christmas spirit,” he said.

“And if I don’t?” she asked worriedly.

“Then we get on a plane.”

Dermot led her to the nearest bed, where a small boy lay, his face pale, but his smile the brightest she had ever seen. “Hi, Dermot.”

“Hi, Wayne. This is my friend Vicky, and we thought we would come over to check you have your stocking hung up.”

“Not yet. We are all going to hang them up before we go to bed. My mom is even staying the night so she can be with me when I wake up.” He held out his hand to his mom. “Then my dad is coming over with my little sister, and we are all going to open our presents together.”

If Santa comes
, Vicky thought.

As they went around the ward, instead of feeling better, she felt worse. The weight of her responsibilities pushed down on her. The pressure of finding her Christmas spirit was almost too much.

Her relief when they left the hospital was immense. Not because she wanted to get away from the patients, but because she needed to close herself off from the hope in each and every child’s eye. Hope had left her a few weeks ago, and she didn’t even think the wonderful Dermot, so happy, so childlike in his wonder of Christmas, could help her.

But as they took a taxi to the small airfield on the outskirts of Bear Bluff, she knew if he could, he would take his own Christmas spirit and give it to her. It was his love and generosity that made her hold onto the thought that all was not lost.

Not yet. But time was definitely running out.

“You are sure this is safe?” she asked.

Dermot was not a man to lie, especially to his mate, but he had to reassure her, or she wouldn’t be going anywhere near the North Pole. “John has been flying it for years.”

That was the truth, but Dermot decided to leave out the part about when he nearly crashed into a barn. It was how Dermot had met John. Or rescued him. It was why he had been able to call in the favour, John owed Dermot and Damon a favour, and although Dermot rarely called in the numerous favours the inhabitants of Bear Bluff owed him, these were exceptional circumstances.

“This your woman?” John asked. He was sitting in the pilot's seat, radio in hand, trying to get clearance to fly. The snow had stopped and if they were quick, they would be able to get in the air before all the big planes from the city began to fly again. This snow would have caused a backlog of flights, with many people spending their Christmas in an airport terminal if they weren’t lucky.

Dermot was beginning to see how quickly your Christmas spirit might just disappear.

“She is. I am the very lucky mate of Vicky Vixen.”

John looked at Vicky, but didn’t comment. “Nice to have a mate at Christmas. If you see one for me, send her my away.”

“You're too old to be thinking that kind of thing,” Dermot joked.

John laughed, a dry cackle. “Man’s never too old for that kind of thinking.”

“Here,” Dermot said, making sure Vicky’s seatbelt was secure. “Once we’re in the air, it shouldn't take us long to get there. John said three hours at the most.”

She looked at her watch, her face worried. “Even if we make it there in three hours, we are not going to have much time left to get to ... where Santa is.”

“Which is where, exactly?” John asked. “I could take some tourists past his place if you tell me.”

“It’s a trade secret,” Vicky said and smiled for the first time since they had left the hospital. Whatever was bothering her went deep, overtaking her emotions. Dermot was concerned for her, but hoped she could find a way to get past her fears.