Twelve Days of Christmas Chaos Page 3

  Chocolate and pastries had to be any mother’s best friend, right? Cleo’s mother loved her specialty Swiss chocolate.

  “You don’t sit. Ever. Every time I see you, you’re running to the rescue. Like now, for example.” Kayne held open the door as they went inside, a blast of warm air chasing away the chill.

  “Cleo to the rescue,” she murmured with a forced smile. He, of course, had no way to know she spent most of her waking hours taking online classes, working toward a wildlife rehabilitation degree with an emphasis on the study of wolves. Actually, Cleo hadn’t told anyone, not even her parents. They would ask why she didn’t leave Huckleberry Falls and pursue a real degree, like everyone else.

  “Online degrees are real too,” she muttered under her breath.

  “What?” Kayne bent closer to her, but she shook her head, forcing a bright smile.

  Cleo led him to the counter, where dozens of different chocolate displays spread out before them. She spread her hands, revealing all the goodness, and smiled at the girl behind the counter. Megan, if she remembered correctly. She was there from out of town to help the shop owner, Annie, while she was hugely pregnant. “We’re shopping for an overworked mama of four boys.” She widened her eyes at the horror, and Megan laughed.

  “I have just what you need,” Megan said.

  “I hardly think she’s overworked,” Kayne said.

  “She has four boys, Kayne. Of course, she is.”

  Megan nodded in agreement. “This sampler has a little bit of everything for every taste and preference. Something she can sneak while hiding away in the closet, perhaps, or enjoying a bubble bath at night.”

  “Perfect,” Cleo said. She turned to Kayne, waiting expectantly.

  “Okay, that is kind of perfect. I’ll take it. But I don’t think I can get her just chocolate, Cleo. That’s—”

  Megan laughed as Cleo shook her head. “Oh Kayne. We’re just getting started.”

  They hit the day spa three doors down next. “Hey, Christina,” Cleo called as they hurried through the door. It was getting late and business hours were almost over, but Christina looked up with a smile. Cleo had come to rescue a badger trapped in her window well a few months ago. Red only housed domestic pets at the sanctuary, but they helped save wildlife as often as they safely could.

  Red had told Cleo to wait for the wildlife rescuer, but Cleo hadn’t wanted the badger to drown in the storm, so she’d gone on her own.

  “We’re shopping for Kayne’s mom,” Cleo said. “Do you have suggestions?”

  Christina’s smile widened as she raised an eyebrow at Cleo and winked. “Oh, we are, are we?”

  Cleo nodded. Kayne sucked in a breath.

  Christina fought to control her grin. “Right, what’s your budget, Kayne?”

  Kayne just looked at her helplessly. Christina laughed again and reached for a brochure under her desk. “We’ve got something for everyone.”

  Kayne leaned his forearms on the desk and studied the brochure. “I don’t know what—Cleo, help.”

  “This one. Facial, pedicure, and massage. It sounds like heaven.” She stretched her neck, absently rubbing her own tight shoulder muscles. Massages were her favorite thing.

  Kayne nodded. “Perfect, let’s get that.”

  Christina wrote up the gift certificate and handed it over. Cleo stood aside patiently until Kayne turned toward her. “Okay, done. Now what?”

  “Stocking stuffers?”

  Kayne’s eyes widened in horror. “I don’t—what?”

  “Fluffy socks, soft pillow slips, maybe a whistle to call time out on you and all your brothers?”

  Kayne’s lips quirked. “I don’t know what kind of movies you’ve been watching, but we are not that wild. The youngest is sixteen and two of us don’t even live there full time.”

  Cleo shrugged. “I’m an only child. I get all my info from TV.”

  Kayne shook his head, his lips dangerously close to a smile. “You need to come hang out with my family and do some real research.” He led the way back to the door, letting in a blast of cold air as he went outside. Christina followed Cleo, flipping the antique Open sign to Closed. She grabbed Cleo’s arm right as Cleo stepped a foot out the door. “He’s gorgeous, girl! Way to go!”

  Cleo scrunched up her nose. “Kayne? You remember him from high school, right? Every girl within a five-mile radius chasing after him?”

  “Yes. And he rejected them all—”

  “So he could focus on football.” Cleo glanced sideways at Kayne, who stood in the snow tucking one bag into the other.

  “—Because he was waiting for you.”

  Cleo burst out laughing. “Kayne Frost and I have had a fairly belligerent friendship since we were in kindergarten and everyone called us the Christmas Couple because of our last names. It’s a miracle we’re even still on speaking terms.”

  “And yet, here you are, Christmas shopping together in one of the most romantic cities in America at Christmas time.” It was true that Huckleberry Falls was like stepping into a picturesque Switzerland village, and many of their shop owners had brought their secrets straight from their home country. And it was true that the twinkling white Christmas lights and mistletoe hanging on every corner did give it quite a romantic atmosphere, but that was the only thing Christina was right on.

  Cleo wrinkled her nose even more, which was quite a feat. “This is not—”

  Christina gave a dreamy sigh as Kayne came back to the door. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yep,” Cleo said cheerfully, pushing Christina back inside. “Everything’s fine. Ready for some fluffy socks?”

  “Lead the way, Christmas Klausse.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Cleo had gone home after they’d found adequate fluffy socks, reneging on their dinner plans because she was tired.

  In reality, it had been whatever Christina had said to her. Kayne hadn’t heard it, but she’d high-tailed it out of there real fast after.

  Still, the next morning when Kayne found himself staring at the raging, icy waters of the Huckleberry Falls river, Cleo seemed pretty normal. She tugged her hat down over her wild dark blond waves and peered up at him. “What’s the plan, Mr. Popularity?”

  Kayne smiled despite himself. From anyone else, he’d hate that nickname but somehow she made it sound endearing. She had the innate ability to make even the direst situation seem hopeful. “There are animals in that bag caught on the downed tree.” He motioned with his head and Cleo squinted into the weak morning sun. The tree had fallen last winter, nearly spanning the entire width of the river. Most of it was submerged, but thank the heavens, the sack had been caught on a limb that had drug it out of the water, and now it hung just above the icy fingers of the river’s spray. When Kayne had gotten the call early that morning, he’d thought there was no way whatever was trapped in there could possibly still be alive, not in the cold when they were already wet. But he saw the bag move every so often, so there was still hope.

  Cleo looked down at her rubber boots. “These are definitely not tall enough,” she muttered.

  Kayne laughed. “You’re not wading in there. It will sweep you right down river and I’d never be able to find you.”

  “What else are we going to do?”

  Red hadn’t told Kayne she’d called Cleo too. Maybe Cleo just hung out at the sanctuary until she was needed, Kayne had no idea. But she’d shown up soon after he had without a complaint, apparently entirely prepared to wade into the freezing river.

  “Climb across on the tree.” Kayne dug his rope out of his pack and tossed it to Cleo. She didn’t wait for instructions, instead seeming to read his mind as she jogged through the snow to tie the rope around a thick tree nearby. It was in case Kayne got knocked into the river. He’d be able to pull himself to safety.

  All that conditioning in football would finally pay off.

  She handed him the other end, watching the water. “Do you know how deep that is?”

  “
Not as deep as it is with all the spring runoff,” Kayne said. It couldn’t have been more than four feet, but with the current and the cold, it was still deadly. Which was why he was going, and not her. He had at least a foot on her that would hopefully help stabilize him.

  She didn’t argue, instead holding the rope and planting her feet in the snow. She nodded, and somehow despite her tiny size, Kayne had no doubt she’d hold him steady. He tied the rope securely around his waist and got as close to the edge of the river as he could without actually climbing in, judging the distance between the log and where he stood. At the very worst, he’d get swept downstream, and the river ran right through town, so hopefully someone would be able to save him.

  Assuming he survived that long.

  “You got this, Mr. Popularity,” Cleo murmured. He wasn’t sure she even knew she’d said it aloud. Her pretty mouth was set, and the sparkle that usually lit her eyes was dulled by worry.

  Kayne nodded and jumped. His first foot hit the log, the other landing squarely in the river. He felt the pull of the current as the shock of cold hit his skin and he struggled to remain upright. Cleo yelled out, one hand reaching helplessly toward him as Kayne grabbed a branch and pulled himself up.

  The log swayed dangerously, not as sturdy as he’d hoped.

  “You’re too big,” Cleo called. “It’s not going to hold you. Again.”

  At any other time, he would have asked if she was calling him fat, but at that moment, sarcasm seemed wildly inappropriate.

  “There’s not a chance you’re coming out here, Cleo,” Kayne snapped, but each step inched forward told him just how wrong he was. He outweighed her by probably almost a hundred pounds. Her lighter weight would carry her across the log and his would just break it, sending him and the sack of trapped animals downstream.

  Swearing, he inched backward and leaped back to shore. “I’ll just have to wade through. If I stay on this side of the log, it will—”

  Cleo was already shaking her head. “That won’t work and you know it. I’ll go.” She gave him a teasing smile that almost, almost reached her eyes and if he hadn’t known her so well, he would have thought she felt zero trepidation. “Your weight is always holding us back, Kayne.”

  He snorted despite himself. “Muscle weighs more than fat.”

  She patted his stomach as she took the rope. “I didn’t say otherwise.”

  Cleo didn’t waste any time, didn’t give Kayne any extra seconds to try to come up with a better plan. In one swift jump, seemingly channeling her inner gazelle, she cleared the river and landed like a cat on the log, crouched with her hands grasping the bark for dear life. Kayne thought of yelling something sarcastic, but his heart was in his throat and oxygen could barely make it past, let alone glib words. “You got this, Cleo,” was all he could manage to murmur, impossible for her to hear over the roaring waves.

  She scrambled across the log, not hesitating even when it cracked and protested against her weight. She struggled when it dipped back down into the water, and the river tried its hardest to tug her off her perch. Kayne felt the rope pull in his hands and held it tighter, refusing to let her fall. Not that he was that important; if the rope slipped out of his hands, the tree would still hold. But he’d rather it be up to him, not a tree, should she need help.

  “I’m okay,” he heard her yell, maybe to him or maybe to herself, he had no idea. She shook her hands off, rubbed them on her already soaked pants, and nodded. She scrambled forward again, on hands and knees and feet, pausing every time an overly exuberant wave hit to regain some stability. Every time, he’d hear her say, “I’m okay.”

  If the situation wasn’t so stressful, he’d be forced to admit she was kind of adorable.

  Luckily, the situation was stressful.

  After what felt like a lifetime, she reached a spot just above the limb the bag was caught on. Cleo slid down to her belly and stretched out her hand, her fingers just barely brushing the top of the sack.

  She couldn’t reach.

  Kayne rubbed his hand over his face, searching frantically for another way to get the sack. When he’d cracked the log, he’d lowered it so the bottom inch or so of the sack now hung in the water. Whatever was in there wouldn’t last long in these frigid temperatures. Kayne’s feet were frozen from his brief encounter with the water, and he had boots on.

  Cleo slid to the side, wrapping one leg and one arm tight over the top of the log. Before Kayne could react, she let go with her other arm, dangling off the side of the log like some kind of daredevil stuntwoman. The water splashed in her face, and from where Kayne stood, he could see she was struggling to breathe. “Cleo, pull back up!” he yelled.

  She either didn’t hear him or ignored him.

  Probably ignored him, knowing her.

  Sputtering, she reached farther, stretching as far as she could, dangerously off-balance. Right as it seemed she would slip and go under the log, she snatched the bag, tugged it off the branch, and vaulted herself back to the top, clutching the bag to her chest. She raised her eyes to Kayne, nodding, a brief smile turning up her full lips before she started inching her way back.

  They were still alive then.

  She made it all the way to the end of the log with no further incident, and Kayne was breathing a sigh of relief when she finally rose to her feet, ready to jump back to shore. He reached out a hand to—what, catch her? Like Cleo would ever allow that—just as she jumped.

  The log broke.

  Cleo screamed, Kayne lunged forward, but she was still too far away. She threw the bag as she toppled into the river.

  Kayne caught it, somehow holding tight to the rope despite the wriggling creatures in the sack. It pulled taut and Cleo was yanked to a stop, going under the waves.

  Kayne dropped the sack and pulled, hand over hand, with everything he had, heart racing in his chest, blood pounding so loudly in his ears he couldn’t hear anything else, not his own labored breathing or the roar of the river. Slowly, he pulled her back to him, wading out into the river to grab her as soon as he dared. Kayne hauled Cleo to her feet, holding her tight against his chest as he walked backward, forcing his feet to find stable ground despite the river’s current and the slippery rocks. He couldn’t let them both fall. She’d be lost.

  He couldn’t let that happen.

  A thousand steps later, he finally felt the ground rise and the water recede as he pulled them both up the bank and onto shore. Cleo was gasping, clinging to his arms like a lifeline, her entire body overcome by tremors until her knees gave out and she collapsed against him completely.

  “It’s okay,” Kayne said over and over. “I got you. It’s okay.”

  “What’s—what’s in the sa—sack?” she asked, teeth chattering so violently she could barely get the words out. Kayne didn’t want to let her go to see; he wanted to hold on until his mind accepted that she was okay, she was safe.

  She’s safe.

  Reluctantly, he let her go to reach for the bag, which was no longer squirming or moving at all. Cleo sat next to him, rocking back and forth and shaking from either the cold or adrenaline or fear or maybe all three.

  The bag moved sluggishly under Kayne’s hands as he worked to untie the knot. Luckily, debris had torn air holes into the thick plastic or whatever was inside would have suffocated.

  The knot came undone and Cleo leaned forward, pushing her soaking hair away from her face. She’d lost her hat and one boot, Kayne realized belatedly.

  She didn’t seem to notice, so intent on the bag.

  “Is it snakes?”

  Kayne peered inside, his heart dropping. “Ferrets,” he said. “And they’re not moving.”

  Cleo pushed herself to her feet. “We’ve got to get them to Stacey. I’ll warm them up in the car while you drive. We can still save these babies.”

  Kayne didn’t have to be told twice. He picked her up, cradling her to his chest while she held tight to the ferrets, the bag now open and pushed down around them. She cou
ldn’t very well walk through the snow with only one boot on, now could she?

  She slid to the ground next to his truck, and he dug through the back seat for blankets and towels. Cleo waited for him to spread one across the seat and scrambled up into the cab. Kayne wrapped another blanket around her shoulders, aware of how pointless it was when her clothes were soaking wet, but he couldn’t just let her sit there and freeze. She took each ferret out, wrapping them in towels and rubbing gently.

  Three.

  Three ferrets.

  Kayne got the truck started and turned the heat on, ripping off his gloves so his fingers could thaw. “Next time you’re given the choice between saving yourself or throwing a bag of ferrets at me, Cleo, maybe think harder about your choices.”

  She didn’t look up at him, bent over the ferrets in her lap. They were juveniles, none of them bigger than from her fingertip to halfway up her forearm. “I knew you had my rope. You would pull me back in. But I would have lost the bag in the current.”

  I knew you had my rope.

  She’d had perfect faith in him and for several long seconds, Kayne could only stare at her, this little angel sitting next to him, who had been his “frenemy” for twenty years, since they were in kindergarten together. She must have felt his gaze because she finally turned her head to look at him, dark eyes curious.

  Kayne just shook his head and shifted the truck into drive.

  I knew you had my rope.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The ferrets were sluggish but moving by the time they got them to Stacey. Cleo had every faith that their vet would be able to work her magic and save them.

  Meanwhile, Cleo had never been so cold in all her life.

  Kayne led the way from the clinic to the volunteer’s area in the back. Through the window, Cleo could see several dogs running through the snow, and it warmed her frozen heart. “We need to get you warmed up before you get hypothermia,” he said.

  Cleo couldn’t even argue; although, she did want to point out that he was nearly as soaked as she was.