LITMIR.BIZ

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      He rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”

      “What’s wrong with volunteering?” Her eyes flashed—a telltale crack in her perfect, bubbly composure. She looked even prettier when she was flustered, he noted.

      Then he reminded himself he shouldn’t be noticing such things. “I never said there was anything wrong with it. It just seems like the type of thing you’d do, that’s all.”

      She crossed her willowy arms, clearly an effort to physically hold her anger at bay. Alec couldn’t help but wonder what she’d be like if she let it all out. “Why are you so insistent on pigeonholing me? I told you I’m not what you think.”

      His gaze swept her up and down, from her bouncy princess hair to the pompoms dangling from the ties of her snow boots. “Clearly not.”

      Color rose to her cheeks. She looked like the Tooth Fairy on the verge of a murderous rampage. “Why are you so mean? I should fire you. Again. You can’t be the only man around here who knows about reindeer.”

      “I’ll be happy to move on as soon as you say the word...and pay me the money you owe me, of course.” Alec lifted an expectant brow.

      He should cut her some slack. She’d obviously had a rough day. But there was something fun about rattling her. And Alec hadn’t had much fun in his life.

      “Is there an actual reason you stopped by, or was it purely to antagonize me?” she asked, refusing to take his bait.

      He was beginning to suspect she didn’t have the money. And if she didn’t, then he’d indeed misjudged her.

      I’m not your average heiress.

      For some crazy reason, those words made him smile. “I need some work gloves.”

      “Right this way.” She spun on her heel, moving through the crowded shelves of the thrift store with the energy of an arctic hare.

      Alec followed, studiously averting his gaze from the sway of her slender hips. No good could come from forming an appreciation for her figure.

      His eyes flitted to her tiny waist.

      Too late.

      “Here we go.” She stopped at a shelf located near the back of the shop. “Men’s work gloves. We have three pairs to choose from. Take your pick.”

      He chose the tan-colored ones in the middle, the least worn-looking pair, and slid them on. “These look good. How much?”

      “Um. Two dollars, I think.” Zoey frowned all of a sudden. And if Alec wasn’t mistaken, there was a slight tremor in her perfectly pink bottom lip.

      He’d made her cry. Great. “Look, I’m sorry about before. I was just giving you a hard time. I think it’s nice that you volunteer here. Very sweet. Really.”

      She blinked up at him with those sea-green eyes of hers, and Alec felt like the biggest jerk this side of the Lower 48. “It’s not that. It’s the gloves....” She gestured toward the work gloves.

      Who grew emotional over a pair of gloves?

      He stared down at them. “Do they look that awful on me?”

      She laughed, and the sound hit Alec’s chest with a zing that was equal parts pleasure and pain. “No. It’s just that they belonged to Gus.”

      The memory of finding Gus’s lifeless body half-covered in snow hit Alec hard and fast. He closed his eyes, as if that could erase the image from his mind. As if anything could.

      He breathed in and out, in and out, and opened his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

      He began to pull them off, but before he could, Zoey’s hands closed over his. “No. You keep them. You should have them. After all, you tried to save him.”

      His gaze moved from the odd sight of their interlocked hands to her face, where he found her looking at him as if he were some kind of superhero. No one had ever looked at him quite like that before.

      He wanted to tell her to stop. He actually preferred it when she looked at him with disdain. He hadn’t done anything special or admirable. Ever. From day one, his life had been a mess. He wasn’t her superhero. Hers or anyone’s.

      But the words wouldn’t come. It was a struggle to simply say “thank you,” press a couple of dollar bills into her hand and walk away.

      * * *

      Snow brushed against Alec’s kneecaps as he walked the perimeter of the ranch the next morning, checking, double-checking and triple-checking the fence. Nearly a foot of fresh powder had fallen the night before, covering the farm in a blanket of dazzling white. Alec couldn’t deny it was rather pretty, even when his toes grew numb and he lost sight of his feet.

      Palmer had decided to give them all a break and spend the night at home where he belonged. He’d been one of the first deer to show up for breakfast, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, seemingly oblivious to the trouble he’d caused the day before. But Alec knew better than to trust the naughty reindeer. He could practically see the wheels turning behind Palmer’s dark, almond-shaped eyes. He was formulating another escape plan. Alec was sure of it.

      He shook his head as he poked his fingers through a square of the welded wire fence near the back corner of the pasture and checked for breakage. No doubt he was giving Palmer too much credit. Animals weren’t like people. They didn’t plot and plan, waiting for the perfect moment to run. More than likely, Palmer was an opportunist. When he saw a chance, he took it—just as Alec had done.

      It had been a week before his high-school graduation. He’d had an after-school job cleaning out cages at the local animal shelter. Grunt work. The kind of thing no one else wanted to do.

      Alec didn’t mind much. It was better than being at home, even though things had settled down somewhat. His father hadn’t hit him in almost a year. Two months had passed since either his mother or father had used. Sixty-one days.

      And Alec had started collecting paychecks. He’d thought he might even work full time once school was out and try to save enough money to get a place on his own. He’d already managed to squirrel away a few hundred dollars he kept hidden under his mattress in an old, beat-up Band-Aid box.

      But that day he’d come home and found both his parents passed out on the living-room floor and the Band-Aid box empty. He would never forget the bottomless feeling that had come over him as he’d looked inside that rusty box, and the hot sting of tears on his cheeks when he realized just what all his hard-earned money had paid for. He’d cried like a little kid.

      And then he’d just left. Right then. And he hadn’t shed a tear since. Not even when Camille had called off their engagement.

      It had been only days before Christmas when Camille slid his engagement ring off her finger. He’d foolishly thought his past was behind him, once and for all. He’d been honest. He’d told her about his parents as soon as they’d started dating. She’d been a Christian. Jesus was all about grace, right?

      Somewhere around Thanksgiving, Camille had begun to have doubts. By the time stockings all over the world had been hung by the chimney with care, her family had gotten to her and convinced her those doubts were as real as the evergreen tree Alec had chosen at the Christmas-tree farm and tied to the roof of his car.

      He’d forgotten all about the tree as he’d listened calmly to her explanation and accepted the ring she’d already removed and returned to him in a plain brown envelope. Then he’d walked right out the door. When he’d stepped outside and saw the evergreen strapped to the roof of his car, he nearly lost it. But he still hadn’t cried. He’d driven straight to the dealership and traded his car in for a motorcycle that very day, tree and all.

      He’d used up all his tears back when he was a teenager, the day he’d peered into that empty Band-Aid box and discovered his stash was gone. Without the missing money, he’d had only a few crumpled bills in his pockets.

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