One Tough Christmas Cookie - Lucy McConnell Page 0,3
she hurried over to the hurt reindeer. “We can’t figure out what’s wrong. He barely made it here.”
“I saw the landing.” Caleb took off his leather work gloves and palpitated Dunder’s belly. “Where did you learn to fly like that?” He tossed a cocky smile over his shoulder at Stella. They rarely rode the reindeer, because carrying a passenger threw off their aerodynamics. That wasn’t to say it couldn’t be done, as Stella had proven today. But the animals were better suited to pull sleighs than give joyrides. Although if Stella was flying the sleigh, then the ride could be compared to a roller coaster.
Stella hugged herself in that way women did when they were pleased. “You know where.”
He’d been the one to teach her, back when she was a skinny little thing with an attitude. “Yeah, but that was a long time ago.”
She flipped her hair. “Some of us still got it.”
“Sure you do.” Caleb continued his exam, enjoying the way he got under her boyfriend’s skin so easily. He tipped his head toward the guy. “He looked as terrified as a prairie dog in a hayfield on utting’ day. She keep you on your toes?” he asked.
He nodded curtly. “More like throws me on my behind.”
Caleb tipped his head back and laughed. This guy was alright. “That’s Stella.” He winked at Stella, and she made a kissing noise back at him.
A sleigh landed with a flurry of jingle bells and snow flying, grabbing Caleb’s attention. Robyn, the oldest Kringle daughter, bounded out of the sleigh, followed by two dark-haired little girls who grabbed the stranger’s hands. They couldn’t be his daughters, and yet there was a whole lotta daddy worship in their eyes. Good on him.
“Can he help him?” asked the smaller of the two.
Caleb jumped in to answer, intent on easing the worry on her sweet face. It was Christmas; she should be making snow angels and eating Christmas cookies not worrying over a sick reindeer. And Dunder was as sick as he’d ever seen a reindeer. His own worry grew by the second, and he did his best to tamp it down in front of the kids. “You bet I can. I’m the best reindeer wrangler around.”
“He likes to think so,” called his brother as he strode out from the house.
Caleb rolled his eyes. Trust his twin to steal the glory. Still, he was glad for the help. Dunder’s breathing hadn’t slowed. They needed to get his heart rate down and see if he could drink, or at the very least eat some fresh snow.
“Jack!” Stella ran and threw her arms around Caleb’s carbon copy.
Jack twirled her around just like he had, both of them laughing. “What have you brought us this time, princess?” He set her down, and Stella swatted at him.
“Princess? I thought I told you never to call me that.”
“As you wish.”
“Stop!” Stella hit him again, laughing.
Caleb pulled Dunder’s eyelid up and was met with an angry red glare. “Okay, big fella, I know you don’t like me poking at you, but I’m here to help.” He put his hand near Dunder’s nose. “Come on, you remember me.”
Dunder huffed as if saying, Of course I remember you, idiot.
Caleb rubbed between his eyes. “You’re still grumpy, huh? I thought living at the North Pole would have sweetened you up.”
Dunder moaned in protest.
“Good.” Caleb moved to scratch under his jaw, and Dunder relaxed.
Robyn approached, and Caleb leaned back on his heels, taking her in. She still had that oldest-sister vibe going, but her hair was cut different, more modern, and she wore clothes that hugged her curves. He’d bet her little sister Frost had gotten hold of her for a makeover. Knowing Robyn was all business, he jumped in with his laundry list of questions. “What’s he been eating lately? How many hours is he flying a day? What’s his sleep habits like?”
Robyn rubbed her lips together. “I’m going to call the stables and see if we can get Selora on the line. She’ll know more about his eating habits than I do.”
Caleb lifted his felt hat and rubbed his hair. “’Kay.” Santa’s head stable elf would have all the info he needed. “I just don’t know what to do for him except make him comfortable. If we could find out if there was a trigger, something he ate that didn’t agree with his stomach, I could help him better.”