Reindeer Ripple, page 1
Reindeer Ripple
Kinship Cove: Heartthrobs & Holidays
Ellis Leigh
Reindeer Ripple
Kinship Cove: Heartthrobs & Holidays
No one ever said working with Santa was all reindeer games, and some scars are harder to heal. Welcome to Kinship Cove by way of North Pole, Alaska. Holidays have never been so steamy.
Being from the O’Rudolph family never had saved me from ridicule or given me any extra access to those reindeer games, but I’d made it through my childhood relatively unscathed. Or so I liked to tell myself. Truth be told, one herd in particular had been awfully cruel and gone well beyond just laughing and calling me names. But that was years ago. Right? I should be over it…right?
* * *
Over it or not, I was older. More mature. An adult. An adult with a job that took her to a shifter town named Kinship Cove, where the fates not only introduce me to a diner-owning, fox-shifting old lady who makes me the best cups of peppermint coffee ever, they also throw me a wild curve ball in the form of one Bennett Donderson. My fated mate and a man who can truly rock the white hair look. Unfortunately, he’s also a man from the herd of my nightmares. One who had been unable—or unwilling—to protect me from his very own niece. How can I trust someone whose family takes being on the naughty list to an emotionally scarring sort of extreme?
What’s a girl to do when her past slams headfirst into her present and threatens her future?
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1
Ruby
Kinship Cove. A shifter town, one where I—as a reindeer shifter—should have felt comfortable. One where others like me came together to live their lives without judgment or fear of outsiders trying to control them. The cove was beautiful, tucked deep into the forests of a mountain range with a rocky coast like the image on some Christmas card or the backdrop to one of those holiday movies everyone loved so much. It looked like the hometown of Santa Claus himself. It wasn’t—that would be North Pole, Alaska, where I was from—but it sure could have been.
“Back again.” The old woman who owned the little diner in Kinship Cove shuffled over to where I was sitting at the counter, her smile bright and her eyes sharp. Friendly, these local shifters. So darn friendly. “You’ve been here every day for weeks.”
Friendly and observant. She wasn’t wrong about that timeline. “What can I say? I can’t get enough of your gingerbread French toast.”
The woman—who kept demanding I call her Momma—shot me a sly grin and leaned a little closer. “Mayonnaise.”
I had no idea what that was a code word for. “Excuse me?”
“We don’t just use eggs in the wash for the bread—we use mayonnaise. My husband started that back when he ran the kitchen.” She smiled up at a picture of a handsome, dark-haired man hanging near the coffeepot. Assumedly her husband, and the display sure did look like some sort of memorial.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to bring up something that would make you remember his death.”
“Death?” She spun around, laughing. “Oh no, child. He’s not dead, just retired. The man is out on the golf course as we speak, the lazy git.” She flicked her towel at the photo. “I leave that up there as a reminder to the customers—they always liked him. Me? I’m just glad he finally got out of my hair. It’s hard to spend every day, all day with someone, even if they are your fated mate. Anyway, he’s the one who created the recipe for our French toast. The mayonnaise adds a good fat to the bread without that oily butter drippiness that can happen. So when you finally go home and make your own, add a little mayo to the egg wash. You won’t regret it.”
Who would have thought? “Well, it’s delicious. Thanks for the tip.”
“You’re welcome.” She patted my hand, the chill in hers slightly sticking. What was that people said? Cold hands, warm heart—she must have had the warmest heart in Kinship Cove with those hands. “So, gingerbread French toast?”
I grinned, my mouth watering at the very thought. “Yes, please.”
“No problem. And I’ll have Jackson bring you a coffee. Make him blush for me, would you? It brings joy to my old heart to see my grandson so flabbergasted by a pretty woman.”
If I’d been a lot younger, I might have been shy about her compliment. Might have brushed it off or stuttered my way through minimizing it. Thankfully, I was an adult with decades of learning to accept myself in the rearview mirror and a strong sense of self. Yes, I was a pretty woman—I could accept that as fact and carry on.
“You’ve got it,” I said. “I might even give him a wink or something—really throw him for a loop.”
Her returning grin was one I had so rarely seen. I had just made her truly happy, it seemed. “You’re my new favorite customer. Keep coming to see me, okay?”
And then she was off, greeting customers with that smile of hers and snapping at her staff when they were too slow. She ran the place with an iron fist, but I loved it. Loved seeing her wrinkled face when I walked in. Loved knowing three generations of family had owned and run the place. There were antiques all over the dining room—pictures and little knickknacks that obviously meant something to them. There was also a bunch of pictures of the forest surrounding the town. Images of huge trees hanging off the cliffs above us, streams dividing pine groves, and individual lone-wolf trees that were likely long gone by now. It was one of the reasons why I came to the diner so much—other than the fact that the food was amazing. I got absolutely lost in the details.
Of course, I tended to get lost. A lot.
It wasn’t really my fault, though. There always so much to see, especially in the forest. The lines in tree leaves, the crags of bark coating the trunk, a small bird perched high in the branches—a single tree could capture my attention for half an afternoon. I knew this about myself, and I adjusted my schedule to account for all of the distracting Mother Nature did to me during my workdays.
Thankfully, Kinship Cove was a lovely place to get lost in, and I worked with trees. Win-win for me.
“Good morning, Miss Ruby.” Jackson—waiter, grandson to Momma, and adorably shy high schooler—turned over my mug and poured me a cup of coffee, already reaching for a peppermint candy for me to toss into the brew. Like I’d said—I’d been there. A lot.
I gave Jackson a grin. “Good morning. How went the studying last night? Did you figure out that problem you were having in calculus?”
He sighed. “No. I’m going to have to ask my teacher for help.”
“Well. At least you tried.”
“I know. It just sucks.” His cheeks went red and his eyes flew open wider as he shot a glance around. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
I shook my head and took a sip of my coffee, holding back a laugh. I’d gotten him to blush already without even flirting. Momma would love that.
“So,” Jackson said as he exchanged my empty creamer pitcher for a full one. “What’s the plan today?”
Because he’d learned my profession and was amazed someone got paid to look at trees—which wasn’t quite what I did, but that was the easiest explanation. “I’ll be inspecting the trees up on the east ridge of the Christmas tree farm. The owner has some land he wants to clear, so I’m going to identify which trees are healthy and can be moved, and which should be harvested for their lumber.”
“Huh,” Jackson said, shaking his head. “That’s one way to spend your day.”
It was—my preferred way, to be honest. It may not have been everyone’s cup of tea—or coffee, in my case—but being out in the woods, surrounded by nature and dwarfed by the local forests, was one of my favorite things. I’d been in Kinship Cover for almost three weeks, identifying trees that needed trimming, marking the ones that were too sick and needed to come down, and generally enjoying my time in the quaint little seaside village. I got lost a lot—even with the lovely signs the townspeople seemed to rely on to get around—but the beauty of the mountains on one side and the sea on the other was worth it. This little pocket of the world, this little shifter town where my inner reindeer and I felt comfortable to truly be ourselves, was a slice of heaven.
One I was getting awfully comfortable in.
“You should come by Grandma’s house sometime,” Jackson said as he refilled his coffee carafe from the huge brewer on the opposite counter. “She’s got a whole back lot of trees. Growing up, we always used to shift to our foxes and go racing through the woods playing the predator game. It was a lot of fun.”
Of that, I had no doubt. “Sounds delightful.”
“Is there a reindeer version of predator?”
Such a casual question and yet one that made my fight-or-flight instinct flare. My skin went cold, and my stomach twisted as I forced myself to stay in my seat. “Sort of.”
“Man, I’d love to know some of the reindeer games you used to play. I bet they were fun.”
If only I’d been allowed to play them. “Yeah, so…I’m having the gingerbread French toast again today. I already told your grandma, so I assume that’s in the works. This time, let’s get it with a side of the fruit salad.”
“No meat for the vegetarian. Got it. Let me just put this—”
The carafe he’d been holding—the one filled with steaming hot coffee—hit the edge of the counter, and everything happened in a sort of slow motion that defied logic. Jackson yelped, I reached to catch the container, and the coffee spilled all over my arm. The very, very hot coffee.
Ouch was not a strong enough word.
I grabbed my forearm, pain firing all the way past my elbow. “Holy ornaments.”
“What happened?” Momma rushed over before I could even scream, reaching for me the second her eyes caught the redness of my skin. “Come with me, now. That’s going to smart a bit.”
Understatement. “It wasn’t Jackson’s fault.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jackson said, following us. But Momma wasn’t having it.
“Back to work. I’ll take care of her. And for the sake of the fates, don’t fill the carafes so full—it makes them heavy and hard to handle.”
She tugged me into the kitchen and directed me to the large, industrial sink in the back. Physically shoving me when the pain blurred my vision and had me stopping in my tracks
“Come on, child. Cold water will help.” She pointed the sprayer at my arm—thankfully keeping the water pressure low so as not to cause more pain—and directed that cool water over my damaged skin. So much better.
“Your shirt’s getting soaked,” she said after a minute. “Take it off. I’ll toss it in the dryer for you and get you a diner tee from the back.”
“Thanks, Momma.” I tugged off my work shirt and slipped my arm back under the cool water, wanting nothing more than for the pain to go away. At least until I heard a voice from behind me.
“Uh…t-there’s a delivery,” Jackson said. Obviously stuttering. Likely blushing. Lovely. That was what I needed—some young kid seeing me in my bra. I was going to be spank bank fodder for days.
Momma didn’t miss a beat, though. “Answer the door, Jackson. Accept the order and tell the man I’ll let him know if there’re any issues.”
I leaned farther over the sink, my stomach turning a bit but the pain in my arm dying down. Just a few more minutes, and I’d likely be able to turn off the water. The burn couldn’t be that bad, though it was very likely the worst thing that had happened to me since I’d arrived in Kinship Cove.
“Ruby?”
I had obviously spoken—or thought, rather—too soon. That voice—I knew it. The tone sent me right back to North Pole, back to a time when I wasn’t in control of my own life, to when things were just plain bad for me. My brain had to be playing tricks on me, though. No way could that man—that blast from my past—be standing in the kitchen at some diner in Kinship Cove. No way could he be right there behind me after decades of not seeing each other. It simply wasn’t possible.
And the fates wouldn’t be so cruel.
“Ruby O’Rudolph,” the man said, which made him knowing me definitely possible. Who would have guessed such a name? “What are you doing here?”
And that was the moment when the full reality of my situation hit me square in the noggin. I was standing topless—bright red bra fully on display—in the back of the kitchen of a restaurant with my arm shoved under the industrial dish sprayer. Half naked and wet wasn’t exactly how I’d intended to see a Donderson. Not that I’d ever wanted to see anyone from that family again.
I’d apparently been wrong about the fates—they were actually that cruel and then some.
“Ruby?”
He moved closer, so I had to make a decision on the fly. Not my strongest suit, but there wasn’t much I could do. Fake it until you make it, right?
“Nope. Not Ruby.”
Lies didn’t come easily to me, though, and the way my voice cracked definitely gave me away. Likely as did the tattoo on my back of Santa’s sleigh being pulled by a single, red-nosed reindeer. Family legends ran deep in our herds, but the proof of my lineage usually stayed hidden away.
This was why I shouldn’t ever be topless. In public.
But Carter Donderson—reindeer shifter from the same region as my family, father to the woman who’d tried to destroy my life for years, and master manipulator in his own right—had never been known for being easy to trick.
“Uh…pretty sure you’re Ruby O’Rudolph.”
The know-it-all tone in his voice only made me want to dig my heels in deeper. “Nope. Not Ruby. Don’t you think I know my own name?”
That was the moment Momma decided to reappear, burn cream and tee in hand. Completely destroying my disguise when she said, “Okay, Ruby. Let me deal with that arm.”
A little late and a lot unhelpful, that one. Have you ever sighed so deeply, you felt as if your entire soul just blew right out of your mouth? Yeah. Me, too. I sighed a sigh as big as the sun.
“It’s fine, Momma. Doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Another lie, though I told that one better. Still, I shut off the water and turned to face my humiliation head on. Sort of. I kept my eyes on the ground. “Hi, Mr. Donderson.”
His dark-brown work boots were about the only thing I could see, which fit me just fine. Though…work boots had never been his style. He was more a suit-and-wingtip-loafers guy.
“Not Ruby, huh?” the man asked, sarcasm practically dripping from his words. “I don’t remember you being a liar.”
Carter Donderson was such a jerk, calling me out that way. That was it—the moment I moved past my embarrassment and grew too frustrated not to respond. I was still topless—still facing off against the father of my nemesis—but I was not one to take being called names I didn’t deserve.
Not anymore.
“I’m not a liar.” I squared my shoulders, and I took a breath deep enough to refill my soul and make me feel ready to go into battle. “So, you can just shut—”
The words caught in my throat as I finally looked up.
First thought—that was not Carter Donderson, though I still knew him. The man before me wasn’t the father of the Donderson girl I knew. He was the uncle of the one who had tried really hard to make me feel worthless. Bennett Donderson, whom I had never actually met but still knew far too much about simply because of my run-ins with his niece and who happened to be way older than I. Old enough to be my daddy, in more ways than one. Which brought me to my second thought—he was cuter than I would have expected him to be. I found him decidedly attractive, much to my dismay. How could I despise someone so…yummy?
Third thought—I was utterly and totally screwed.
My eyes met his, and the cold hand of fate grabbed my heart. The tug deep in my belly nearly yanked me right out of my shoes as I came face-to-face with none other than my fated mate.
Fa-la-la-la-fuck-la-la-la-la, but the fates were cruel mistresses. Me with a Donderson—with any Donderson—was just plain wrong.
“No,” I said, stumbling over my own feet as I immediately headed for the door. “This can’t be happening.”
Footsteps sounded behind me, whether Bennett’s or Momma’s, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both. Didn’t matter, though—this was not my new reality. I was not supposed to be mated to someone like Bennett Donderson. His brother and niece had destroyed my childhood and sent me running from my home many years ago. I didn’t want to be dragged back to that place. No way, no how. Didn’t matter that from what I’d seen, he was likely the handsomest reindeer shifter I had ever run across. The white hair he wore loose and wavy accentuated his high cheekbones, and I’d even gotten a peek at some deep, green eyes that may as well have been colored with the needles of the cedar balsams I loved so much. Add a red hat into the mix, and he’d be one heck of a Santa to come crawling down my chimney.
Hot. The man was definitely hot.
And I was definitely screwed.
“Ruby,” Momma yelled just before I reached the front door. “Your shirt.”
Yup. Still topless and now standing in front of a restaurant full of people in nothing but my work pants and red bra. Wonderful.
“Thanks,” I said, turning and grabbing it from her before spinning for that door once more. “I appreciate your help, but I have to go.”
“Ruby, wait.” That was Bennett, but I wasn’t waiting for him. I tugged the cotton shirt Momma had given me over my head and swept outside, moving fast toward my car. Needing to escape.
Needing to get away from Bennett and fate and all that mishmash.
