My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch 1)

“All right,” he said. “Pull the truck in and follow me.”

Beyond the barn was an open-fronted shed that would have once housed vehicles and farm equipment. It was wide and deep enough to accommodate Abner’s mystery object with room to spare. Travis stood to one side, guiding with hand and voice signals, as Abner backed the flatbed up to the rear wall. “That’s it . . . a little more . . . whoa!”

Grinning, Abner climbed out of the cab and walked back to unfasten the trailer hitch. Travis waited while he unhooked the clips that held the tarp in place. “Now you’re going to see something special,” the old man said.

Lifting the edges of the tarp with his hands, he swept it to one side with a flourish.

Travis’s jaw dropped. Whatever he’d expected to see, it wasn’t this.

On the flatbed, freshly painted in red and gold, stood a full-sized, old-fashioned sleigh.

Chapter 3

Travis stared at the sleigh. It was a stunning piece of work, beautifully detailed down to the polished brass trim and the gleaming runners. But what on earth was he supposed to do with it?

“Did you steal this from Santa Claus?” It was all he could think of to say.

Abner chuckled. “I built it myself, more than twenty years ago. It’s been the star of Branding Iron’s Christmas parade ever since. But in case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t need to steal anything from Santa Claus. I am Santa Claus.”

Was the old man delusional? Travis’s gaze took in the round, rosy face and twinkling blue eyes, the white stubble of a beard, his pudgy build. There was something Santa-like about Abner Jenkins. But Travis had never believed in fairy tales.

“Gotcha, didn’t I?” Abner was laughing. “No need to worry. I don’t fly through the sky delivering presents. But I’ve played Santa in the Christmas parade ever since I built the sleigh. It’s a big event. The whole town looks forward to it.” He studied Travis’s skeptical expression. “You’ve never seen the parade?”

“I didn’t bother to go last year. Before that I wasn’t here.” Travis didn’t bother to add that he’d been in prison.

Inside the sleigh, there were two bench seats—a small, plain one, set low and forward, which Travis guessed was for the actual driver of the sleigh. The elevated rear seat, which appeared to have been salvaged from a high-end automobile, would be where Santa could sit and wave to the crowds. A step made it easier for an old man to get up and down.

Abner beckoned Travis closer. “Here. Take a look at this.”

In the bed of the sleigh was a large, sturdy cardboard box. Opening the top, Abner lifted out a smaller box to reveal, beneath it, two sets of leather harness with collars, straps, buckles, and lines. The huge collars were trimmed with miniature brass bells. “For the reindeer,” he joked.

Travis didn’t have to be told that the old man’s “reindeer” were the two massive Percherons munching hay in the barn. The whole picture was beginning to make sense. But Travis still felt as if he’d stepped into a surrealistic dream. And somehow, he couldn’t seem to wake up.

“Patch and Chip have been pulling the sleigh for the past fourteen years,” Abner said. “If there’s no snow for the parade, the sleigh gets pulled on the flatbed,” Abner said. “When there’s enough snow for the runners . . .” Abner’s eyes took on a faraway look. “That’s when it’s like magic. The sleigh almost seems to fly. Now take a look at this . . .” He unfolded the flaps on the smaller box. Inside was a red velvet Santa suit, complete with gloves, boots, a belt, a hat, and a fake beard.

“I’ve worn these in the parade every year.” Abner dabbed at his eyes. “It makes me sad to think I’ve

done it for the last time.”

“Can’t you stay for the parade, or come back?” Travis asked.

“My kids won’t hear of it. They think being out in the cold might make me sick. So this gear is all yours now.”

“Wait a minute!” Travis reeled as if he’d been punched. “You’re not expecting me to play Santa Claus, are you?”

The old man surveyed Travis’s lanky six-foot frame and shook his head. “You’re too tall and skinny for the suit. You could always have it altered. But the important thing is that you have the Christmas spirit—that you really feel like Santa Claus.”

Travis shook his head. “No way in hell am I going to put on that suit and play Santa,” he said. “I’ll keep the suit for now, but believe me, I’m never going to wear it.”

Abner sighed. “Well, all right. If you don’t mind keepin’ it safe, I’ll let Maggie know you’ve got it. Maybe she can find somebody else for the job.”

“Maggie? Who’s that?”

“Maggie Delaney, the mayor. Tall redhead. A real looker, but too bossy for most men around here. Probably why she’s an old maid. You’d remember her if you’d met her.”

Something told Travis he already had. At least he knew why the big black Lincoln had been parked in the mayor’s slot. So much for old-fashioned male bias. Maybe if she came by, he could talk the sexy mayor into taking the sleigh and the Santa gear off his hands. She might even know somebody who could take the horses.

Abner turned and ambled back toward the truck. “Well, I guess I’ll be goin’. I’d say good-bye to old Bucket, but it looks like he’s already off explorin’ the new place. Give him a little extra attention, and he’ll be fine. Thanks again. Sorry we didn’t get to know each other better. You’ve been a true friend.”