“Sorry!” the woman squeaked out. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” she said, nearly breathless. Her shiny auburn hair swung over her shoulder as she regained her footing, and then she brushed away drops of Orene’s orange sherbet punch from the front of her top.
“It was me. Forgive me. Look what I did.” He swept at the droplets that had spilled from her punch cup, then withdrew. “You should probably do that yourself.” He pulled a bandanna from his back pocket. “Here. Use this.”
“Thank you.” Her emerald-green eyes connected with his; then she took the square and dabbed. “It’s fine. No harm done.” Her glance fell to the ground, where the bag of jerky lay between them.
“What’s with that?” She pointed to the stocking. “Don’t they usually make Santa wear a furry red suit?”
“Well—”
“Wait a minute. You’re not the Grinch, are you? Did you steal that? I was just in the other room where ours were hung bythe chimney with care.” A playful glint sparkled in her eyes. “Uh-huh. I’ve caught you red-handed.”
He leaned down and snagged the stocking. “I promise I brought this one with me.”
“Sure you did. Who doesn’t travel with a giant red stocking? Which looks to be quite heavy,” she noticed. “Suspiciously so!”
“It’s full of homemade turkey and venison jerky.”
“Like salty dried meat?” She shivered. “Sounds like a heart-attack sack if you ask me.”
“May not be elf-approved, but it’s good, and contrary to popular opinion, aside from the salt content it’s pretty good for you. Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“I’ll try to withhold judgment.” Realization crossed her expression. “We’ve met. You’re Tucker. Right?”
“I am. You…?” He couldn’t place her for the life of him, but he never forgot a pretty face, and this woman was worth remembering.
“It was brief. I didn’t expect you to remember. I’m Sheila.” She stuck out her hand. “Natalie’s friend. I’m staying with Orene while I’m here to help Natalie with the Christmas Tree Stroll.”
“She said she had a secret weapon. I didn’t know it was a who and not a what.”
“What can I say?” She shrugged.
“What would it take for me to buy you over to my team?”
“I can’t be bought.”
He wasn’t so sure of that, but he really didn’t need any more help on his team. He was just enjoying the banter at the moment. “Everyone has their price.”
“Not this girl.”
“Hmmph. We’ll see about that.” He liked a woman with some spirit.
“What? Are you just going to run me over again if I don’t?”
“No. Sorry about that. It really was an accident. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. Your hair? It’s longer. A lot longer.”
She ran her hand through it. “No. It’s the same, but the last time I saw you was in the middle of the summer and the humidity was as high as the temperature. If I had to guess, I was wearing it up.”
“Yeah.” He nodded slowly, now remembering. “The ballerina bun.”
She cocked her head and laughed. “Never really thought of it like that. But okay.”
“I like it this way.” He reached out and touched the curling tendril hanging in front of her shoulder. “Very pretty.”
She reached her hand to where he’d just touched her. “Thank you.”
The sweet floral smell of her perfume teased his nose. He wanted to lean in for another whiff, but he held himself together. “Maybe you could share a few ideas with me.”
“Are you digging for insider information for the most important competition in Chestnut Ridge over the holidays?”
