The carved bear reached out to snatch the jumping fish from the running river. Under the spotlights, I could see the absolute beauty of our talents combined. Unable to find words adequate to express the well of emotions bubbling up inside of me, I stayed quiet. But I slipped my hand into his and squeezed it, hoping he’d get everything I couldn’t say.

  A group of older women entered the room and chattered as they spread out to look at all of the entries. One of them sidled up close enough to bump into me. When I glanced at her, I found Cora smirking up at me.

  “Glad to see you two together,” she said, offering me a friendly wink. “And that you’ve managed to follow my advice.”

  I raised my chin a little higher in the air. “It was an excellent suggestion,” I complimented.

  She surveyed the bear and fish in front of us. “That’s really amazing. I’ve already got a bear Mr. Hottie Pants made sitting on my front porch at home. Put a little Santa hat on top of him,” she chuckled. “But if you’re responsible for the ice part of it all, I’d like to talk to you about doing something custom for me.”

  My heart leaped into my throat, and it took me a second to regain some composure. “Uh, sure. I mean, I could definitely try.”

  “She made some cool glasses for me to use at the Break Room,” Wyatt bragged. “They never melt and keep the drinks frosty the whole time.”

  “Your talents are completely wasted on that bakery. You should think about setting up your own business,” Cora suggested, still staring at our work.

  My jaw dropped. “I…I’m not sure they would allow someone like me to open a shop or anything.”

  “Oh, that’s a load of reindeer poop,” she declared with a snort. “If you could create ice sculptures that never melt, you’d have people knocking down your door. Me being the first in line.”

  Her confidence in me did strange things. Instead of wanting to hide my broken magic, I was proud to claim my powers. Letting go of Wyatt, I chose to give the kind woman a gift for her belief in me. Calling on both sides of my energies, I pictured what I wanted in my head and willed my magic to sculpt the object between both of my palms. Cradling it in my right hand, I lifted my left to reveal a blooming rose much like the one Clara had helped me create the first time I met her. Pink and red lights glowed from the inside of the ice.

  I held out my gift to her. “Thanks.”

  “Okay, now you have to promise you’ll let me book you first,” she exclaimed, petting the petals of her flower. “Also, I think maybe the two of you should open your own place. You could call it The Bear & The Babe,” Cora teased.

  “We’ll see,” I answered her, placing a hand on my flaming cheek. “I hope you have fun with the awards.”

  She waved her ballot in the air. “You better believe I’m voting for you in this category. I’ll get the rest of my cronies in on it, too. And make sure you check out my entry. I’ve decided to try and give that Wren Warbler a run for her money with my brown sugar pound cake.”

  “Will do,” I promised over my shoulder as Wyatt and I left the room.

  Once outside, he tugged on my arm and pulled me in for a crushing hug. I snuggled into his chest, processing everything that had just happened.

  He rocked me back and forth. “I am so proud of you.”

  I backed away to be able to look up at him. “None of that would have happened if you hadn’t entered your work.”

  “Our work,” he corrected, gripping me a little closer and tighter.

  I patted his back. “Can’t…breathe,” I joked.

  He let me go, flashing me a sexy smug smile. “Sorry. Bear hugs are the only kind I give out.”

  With his surprise done, we focused on our very important mission. When we entered the large space with all of the food categories, we kept an eye out for our accomplices. We passed Rocky leaning against the wall on the perimeter.

  I stopped in front of the large display featuring gingerbread houses of all sorts. It was hard to fathom the time it took to build up all the walls and roofs made out of gingerbread, let alone decorate with the frosting and other clever uses of candy.

  “My Mabel used to love decorating gingerbread houses,” Amos said as he sidled up to us. “She even won the category one year with her version of Holiday Haven’s town square. I helped her figure out how to piece together the gingerbread to make the big tree.”

  I patted him on the back. “I’m sorry this is such a hard time of the year for you.”

  He sniffed. “Oh, anytime without her is hard. But she sure did love when everyone was geared up for Christmas. The SSAs were her absolute favorite thing to do. I’d grouse and groan about going with her, but in the end, we’d have fun discussing and voting for all of our favorites.” The kind man wiped a finger under his eye.

  Nutty popped his head out from his position on Amos’s other shoulder. “Want me to argue with you over which of these entries is best? I’d have a better idea if you’d let me taste them.”

  “No!” Wyatt, Amos, and I exclaimed at once. Our reaction garnered us a little too much attention, and we walked over to a different display.

  “What are you doing here anyway, Nutty?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

  His red tail fluffed out, and he cocked his tiny head at me. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun. Wanna catch me a villain.” My roommate’s body stiffened, and his nose sniffed the air and his back leg thumped on Amos’s shoulder. “Vote for that bread right there. It’s got nuts in it.”

  “If you’re gonna help, you have to stay focused,” I reminded him.

  He saluted me with his little paw. “I’m on it.”

  Wyatt tilted his head in the direction of the door across the room from us. “There she is,” he murmured.

  We turned to find Wren entering and greeting everyone as if she were the queen bee. “How’s everything going? Do you have your ballots? Make sure you vote, especially in the baked goods category.” While she talked nonstop, she failed to listen to anyone’s actual responses.

  It took considerable restraint not to walk right up and confront her about the cookies. But that would make me no better than Topper trying to arrest me with absolutely no evidence of wrongdoing. Instead, I nodded at my friends to make sure we spread out and began our vigilant observation of the woman.

  Wyatt and I circled the room, accepting samples for the foods entered in taste categories. The closer we drew to the table where Wren stood, handing out bites of her fruitcake, the more I felt a compulsion of goodwill and joy.

  “Whatever she’s done to her fruitcake, it’s overwhelming,” I commented to my friend, holding onto his hand to keep me grounded.

  He tipped his head closer to mine and whispered, “I feel it, too. That could become a problem if we’re trying to stay focused.”

  Wren caught my eye and gushed at me. “Oh, Aurora, it’s nice to see you participating in the awards. You as well, Mr. Berenger. I’m glad you’ve both gotten caught up in the spirit of the season!”

  I swallowed hard, trying to push back against the influence of whatever spell she cast. “It’s been enlightening to see all of the entries,” I admitted.

  “Well, I hope you will consider voting for my submission.” She flourished a silver platter with squares of her fruitcake laid out like they were crown jewels. “Even though you must have tried this for yourself while working for me, I think you’ll find it particularly tasty today.”

  I forced my arm to stay by my side instead of reaching out to accept her invitation. “Actually, I don’t like sweet things. I’ve never had any of your baked goods, as delicious as they look.”

  “That’s…disappointing. And perhaps makes you a liability for working at my shop.” Wren lifted her eyebrow at me with concern.

  “Actually, I would think that would make me the ideal employee. One that you know would never eat your wares,” I countered, taking a very important step away from her. Even that slight distance helped me fight off the intense feelings being forced on me.

  I glanced at Wyatt, concerned with his ability to resist. His fingers reached out and hovered over the tray as if he couldn’t help himself.

  He frowned for a second, struggling to pull his hand away. “Did you use a traditional recipe?”

  Wren flashed a wide grin at him. “I based it off the one passed down in my family over generations but have made it my own after years of perfecting it. Try some,” she insisted.

  A little bead of sweat broke on his brow. “So, what kinds of fruits did you put in it?”

  “There are all kinds. Of course, raisins, both dark and golden. And then some dried peaches and apricots, chopped cherries, some dried black figs—”

  “Figs!” Wyatt shouted with a little too much enthusiasm. “I mean, I’m allergic to figs. Aw, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can try any of your fruitcake.” Taking my hand, he tugged me behind him as he raced to exit the room.

  As soon as we crossed the threshold, he let me go and bent over, grabbing his knees. “I wish we could use a feeling to implicate her.”

  I drew in some cleansing breaths. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the sleigh was right beside her. We’re all at risk if we go anywhere near her.”

  “Perhaps I can help with that,” a lady in a puffy jacket said from behind us, causing me to jump.

  “Hey, Clara,” I said, taking in her more pedestrian appearance. “Nice disguise.”

  She glanced down at her normal street wear. “I had to find a way to get to you without a whole lot of attention. And it looks like I’m here in the nick of time.”

  “Don’t you mean, St. Nick of time?” I joked.

  She snickered. “I’ll have to remember to tell my husband that later. But for right now, eat these.” She opened her hand and revealed two red-and-white-striped peppermints.

  Wyatt popped one in his mouth before I could even remind her how I didn’t like sweets. He sucked on the candy for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “Oh, that’s better.”

  “What’s in it?” I asked, eyeing the sweetie.

  “Let’s just say I used those cookies that Amos brought to Aster to help concoct my own temporary cure.” Her bright eyes pleaded with me. “Just trust me. I’ve already handed some out to your cohorts.”

  With hesitant fingers, I accepted the peppermint and placed it on my tongue. The crisp sweetness at first turned my stomach a little. However, the longer I let it sit in my mouth, the more the effects of my talk with Wren faded.

  “It’s like the anti-spirit pill,” I said, sucking on the candy with more relish. “So, can you just go in there and arrest her now?”

  Clara winced. “It’s still pretty dicey for me to be directly involved. Plus, this is still your operation. Do you think we have enough to accuse her yet?”

  I agreed with Wyatt’s sentiment when we first left the room. “No. A feeling isn’t enough. But we could take some of her fruitcake and have it analyzed.”

  “And we will for sure,” she promised. “But that won’t do anything for the here and now. But I just spotted something I helped set up that might.”

  Wyatt and I risked walking back into the room. A camera crew surrounded Wren, and an elf wearing a white outfit lined with red piping with her hair pulled back in a professional-looking bun held a microphone.

  A bright light switched on, and the elf spoke into the camera. “Hello, North Pole. This is Merry Mittens coming to you live, streaming over the Winternet, from the Holiday Haven Seasonal Spirit Awards.”

  “Did you set this up?” I whispered to Clara.

  She nodded and held a finger up to her mouth. We both went back to watching the spectacle.

  “I’m here with Wren Warbler, head organizer of this year’s SSA committee for the town. Wren, tell me, how do you think Holiday Haven will stack up against all of the other North Pole communities? After all, Garland Gale has won the overall awards three years in a row. Do you think you have a chance this year?”

  Wyatt snorted. “That’s gotta hurt.”

  Wren kept a smile pasted on her face. “Of course, I wish all the luck of the season to our good friends in Garland. However, I’m certain that Holiday Haven is ready for its turn in the spotlight this year. In fact, as head of the committee for our fair town, I’ve done everything I can to ensure we do our absolute best. I believe in each and every one of our entries and am proud how we have pulled together as a community to contribute to the holiday spirit this year.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned, holding my stomach and glancing at Wyatt. “I told you I didn’t like sickeningly sweet things.”

  Merry nodded at her interviewee. “And may I say that I am highly impressed with all of the entries that I’ve witnessed so far. But looking at the crowd gathered here surrounding the food categories, I can see that there is some fierce competition. As owner of Yuletide Yummies, I would imagine you would have a bit of an advantage if you entered anything into the competition yourself.” She shoved the microphone back in Wren’s face.

  My boss kept up her appearances in front of the camera. “Well, I think all of us want the absolute best entries to be chosen to compete in the overall awards. And while I don’t like to boast, I must say that my fruitcake is something that can’t be ignored. Many are saying that my fruitcake makes them feel like they’ve eaten a little piece of Christmas.” She picked up the silver tray and showed it off.

  Clara giggled and nudged me with her elbow. “I already gave my friend there one of the peppermints.”

  The professionalism of the interviewing elf never slipped as the effects of whatever Wren had added to her baked goods overcame her. “I really shouldn’t, as I’m supposed to stay impartial as I report from each awards event in all of the cities.” Merry turned her focus to the camera. “Speaking of feeling like Christmas, what do you think happened to Santa’s sleigh? And do you think its disappearance in Holiday Haven will have any effect on the outcome of the regional winner?”

  Wren’s smile lessened. “I don’t think our town should be penalized for the failure of the security team. And I believe that any and all justice for the sleigh’s disappearance should be left to the authorities. Thank you.” She offered a curt nod at the camera and walked away.

  “Well, there you have it,” the elf continued. “The Seasonal Spirit Awards are off to a good start. I will be reporting from each town’s event as the day progresses. Be sure to continue tuning into your exclusive North Pole Winternet for the latest news. I’m Merry Mittens.”

  Clara, Wyatt, and I huddled in the corner. “I think we’ve effectively turned up the heat on Wren,” Mrs. Claus declared.

  I nodded at Amos, Nutty, and Rocky at the far end of the room. “And now, we have to watch and see how she reacts. With any luck, this pressure cooker of a situation will make sure her goose is well and truly cooked.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I should have known that Mrs. Claus’s influences ran wide and deep. According to her, she’d set up others to keep cajoling Wren about Garland Gale’s prior wins to stoke her competitive nature to a boiling point. With all of us on high alert, there was no way anything she did could escape our notice.

  Wyatt and I circled the room with all of the food entries for the hundredth time when Wren strode in like a madwoman with purpose. Due to whatever she’d added to her fruitcake, people were gathering around her table more and more.

  She pushed through the crowd, growing more incensed by the minute. “Get out of my way,” my boss grumbled.

  “We’ll never see what she’s going to do in this crowd of people,” I hissed at Wyatt.

  We only had one member of Team Humbug who could catch a glimpse from a completely different perspective. I rushed around the room until I found Amos with my roommate still riding on his shoulder.

  “Nutty, we need you to try to see what Wren is doing by her station right now.” I pointed in the direction of the crowd.

  The tufts of hair poking out of his pointy red ears perked up. “Yeah, yeah, no problem.”

  The squirrel scurried down Amos’s leg and scampered here and there, avoiding being stomped on several times. With everyone else being attracted to Wren’s table, no one noticed the path my roommate took. With great haste, he scuttled through the gingerbread display. However he managed it, he made it to the other side without damaging any of the entries. He scrambled up the layers of a gingerbread Christmas tree and hung off of it like a tiny version of King Kong, clinging to the decorated cookie star at the tippity top as he gazed over at whatever Wren was doing.

  “It’s not going to hold his weight,” Wyatt worried.

  I crossed both sets of fingers. “It’s got to. He’s our best chance at confirming our suspicions.”

  Rocky pointed. “The star is going to break off and he’ll fall,” he said in his raspy deep voice.

  The noise in the area grew from a general murmur to a loud din of excitement. It almost became too deafening to bear. Wyatt winced more than once due to the sensitivity of his shifter hearing.

  “The tree is starting to lean,” he warned, pointing at Nutty’s precarious predicament.

  My roommate kept a tight hold while he strained to lean his body far enough out to get the best view over the back of Wren’s table. Just as the gingerbread Christmas tree appeared to topple, the squirrel leaped off with his arms spread out, much like an action hero from the movies. He landed on the floor and somersaulted a couple of times before disappearing underneath the feet of all the onlookers.

  “Do you see him?” I called out to my cohorts. “I hope he’s not hurt.”

  Nutty’s small figure reappeared as he scuttled out of the back of the crowd and darted over to us. He circled up my leg, and I held out my hand to provide him a perch. Out of breath, my roommate sat in my palm, his little chest heaving with his enormous efforts. He clutched half of the cookie star ornament from the gingerbread tree like a prize.

  “What did you see?” I asked.

  He glanced around at all of us waiting for his answer. “She sprinkled salt all over her baked goodies.”