Chapter 2

Chapter Two

T he smell of fresh cedar filled Scott Callahan’s garage workshop, a comforting mix of earthiness and possibility. He leaned over his workbench, carefully guiding his carving knife along the soft grain of the wood. Each pass revealed more of the intricate snowflake design he was shaping, the sharp blade gliding effortlessly under his practiced hand.

The rhythmic sound of his tools and the soft hum of the space heater in the corner provided the perfect soundtrack to his morning. This was his time, before the demands of the day crept in, before emails and client calls stole his focus. Though custom cabinetry paid the bills, these small, detailed carvings were for him alone. It was his preferred way to clear his mind and remind himself of the joy of creating something for its own sake.

Scott paused, brushing shavings off the block of cedar and holding it up to inspect his work. The snowflake was nearly complete, its delicate lines branching out like the frozen patterns he’d marveled at as a kid on rare winter mornings. Of course, snow was a rarity here on Palmar Island, but he remembered the one Christmas Eve it had dusted the ground, how magical it had felt despite the chaos in his home.

His gaze shifted to the corner of the workshop where his Santa suit hung neatly on a peg near the door. The red velvet jacket gleamed faintly under the overhead light, the gold trim catching the glow like a whisper of holiday magic. Beside it, his black boots sat polished and ready, the fur-trimmed hat perched on top.

The sight tugged a smile from him, but it was tinged with a familiar ache. Playing Santa every year for the island’s Christmas Market was one of his greatest joys, a chance to give the kids in the community the kind of holiday magic he’d wished for as a boy. But it also highlighted the solitude in his life. Once the suit came off, it was just him and this workshop, the house next door too quiet for its size.

Scott set the carving aside and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just a few weekends,” he muttered, as if the words might dull the ache. “And I still need to find an elf.”

He’d been putting it off, hoping someone would magically volunteer. Most years, the job went to a high school or college kid home for the holidays, but this time, no one had stepped forward. With the first weekend of the Christmas Market just days away, he was running out of time.

Sighing, he dusted off his hands and headed toward the main house. The scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted him as he stepped inside, a reminder that he had at least one thing under control this morning. He poured himself a cup, leaning against the counter as he took a sip. The warmth spread through him, chasing away the chill that still clung to the early hours.

His phone buzzed on the counter, the number on the screen unfamiliar. He frowned but picked it up, pressing it to his ear. “Scott Callahan.”

“Hi, Mr. Callahan. My name is Megan Findley,” a woman’s voice said, soft but clear. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

Scott set his coffee down, his curiosity piqued. “No, you’re fine. What can I do for you?”

“Miss Doris suggested I give you a call,” Megan said, a hint of nervousness in her tone. “She mentioned you’re looking for someone to help out at the Christmas Market, with the elf position?”

Scott smiled faintly. Of course the elderly widow was behind this. “That’s right. I am. Are you interested?”

“Yes,” Megan replied quickly, then hesitated. “I’m new to the island, and I’m looking for work. Miss Doris thought this might be a good way to start. I’ll admit I don’t have any experience as an elf, but I’m reliable, and I learn fast.”

Her sincerity struck a chord with him. There was a quiet determination in her voice, like she wasn’t just looking for a job but for something more—a foothold, maybe.

“I see,” Scott said, glancing out the kitchen window at the workshop beyond. He could still hear the gentle hum of the space heater in his mind, a reminder that he’d been savoring the calm before the inevitable rush. But this call felt like a step toward resolving one of his lingering concerns.

“The job isn’t too complicated,” he said. “You’d mostly be helping kids in and out of the sleigh, handing out candy canes, that sort of thing. But it does take a little patience. Does that sound like something you’d be comfortable with?”

“Yes, I think so,” Megan said. “And I’d really appreciate the opportunity. I just want to contribute, you know?”

Scott couldn’t help but smile. “I understand. How about this? Why don’t we meet tomorrow morning at Santa’s Village? I can show you around and go over what the job entails.”

“That would be great. Thank you,” Megan said, relief evident in her voice.

“Let’s say nine o’clock? The Village is still being set up in the town square, but it’s easy to find.”

“Nine works perfectly,” Megan agreed. “Thank you again, Mr. Callahan.”

“Just call me Scott,” he said warmly.

“All right. Thanks, Scott,” Megan said before ending the call.

Scott set the phone down, a thoughtful expression on his face. He didn’t know much about Megan Findley, but if Miss Doris vouched for her, she had to be good people. And with that soft yet determined voice, she sounded like someone who’d give the job her all.

He glanced back toward the workshop, where the Santa suit still hung waiting. For the first time in weeks, he felt a small weight lift from his shoulders. Maybe this year’s Christmas Market wouldn’t be as hectic as he’d feared.

Draining the last of his coffee, Scott grabbed his coat and headed outside. He had a busy day ahead, but the promise of meeting Megan tomorrow added a spark of hope to the crisp November morning.

The town square was already alive with activity by the time Scott arrived the next morning. Volunteers bustled about, carrying armloads of garlands and crates of ornaments, their chatter blending with the soft hum of Christmas carols playing from a nearby speaker. He nodded to a couple of familiar faces as he made his way toward the centerpiece of Santa’s Village—the large chair that would serve as his throne for the season, flanked by a wooden sleigh and a pen meant to hold Cupid, the lone reindeer borrowed from a local farm.

“Morning, Scott!” called Edna, a cheerful woman stringing lights around the candy-striped entrance arch.

“Morning, Edna. Looks good,” Scott replied, tipping his cap.

He glanced around, mentally cataloging the progress. The booths for the bake sale and crafts market were nearly complete, and the reindeer pen was taking shape, with two volunteers working to secure the fencing. The scent of pine filled the air as a few freshly cut trees arrived, ready to be decorated and displayed.

Checking his watch, Scott noted it was nearly nine. He’d told Megan to meet him here, but he couldn’t help wondering if she’d show up. He’d met his fair share of well-meaning no-shows over the years, and with someone new to the island, there was always the chance she might decide this wasn’t worth her time.

He leaned against the sleigh, mentally rehearsing his questions. Miss Doris’s recommendation carried weight, but Scott wanted to see for himself what kind of person Megan was. Would she be patient enough to deal with excited kids and stressed parents? Organized enough to help manage the chaos that came with the job? He frowned, shifting his weight. And then there was the matter of the elf costume—something that required a sense of humor and a good deal of humility.

His thoughts were interrupted by movement at the far end of the square. A woman approached, holding the hand of a small child who struggled to keep up, her curly brown hair bouncing with each hurried step. Megan.

Scott straightened, watching as she wove her way through the maze of half-assembled decorations. She offered him an apologetic smile as she reached him, her cheeks flushed from the brisk walk.

“Sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to the little girl beside her. “Miss Doris couldn’t watch her today, but she promised to help on weekends if I get the job.”

Scott blinked, momentarily thrown. “Miss Doris not running the bake sale? That’s practically tradition.”

Megan shrugged with a small laugh. “She said she’s handing it off to the younger ladies at church this year. I think she likes my daughter too much to say no.”

Scott crouched down, resting his hands on his knees to meet the little girl’s eye level. She clutched a well-loved stuffed animal, her small fingers gripping its worn ear.

“And who’s this?” he asked with a warm smile.

Ruby pressed closer to Megan’s leg, her voice barely above a whisper. “Ruby.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Ruby,” Scott said gently, his smile never wavering. “That’s a very nice bear you’ve got there.”

Ruby relaxed slightly, holding up the stuffed animal for him to see.

“That’s Mr. Bear,” Megan supplied with a chuckle. “He goes everywhere with us.”

Scott stood, brushing sawdust from his jeans. “Good to know we’ve got an extra helper today. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

As they walked through the square, Scott pointed out the various stations and explained the role of Santa’s elf. Megan listened attentively, occasionally shifting Ruby’s scarf or picking her up when she lagged behind.

“You’d mostly be helping kids in and out of the sleigh,” Scott explained, gesturing to the centerpiece. “Handing out candy canes, managing the line for photos, that sort of thing. It’s only a few weekends, but it can get pretty busy and the days are long.”

Megan nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I think I can handle that,” she said, glancing down at Ruby, who had begun tugging at her mother’s coat sleeve.

“Sorry,” Megan said quickly. “She’s not used to all this yet.”

“It’s fine,” Scott said, waving it off. He crouched down again. “Hey, Ruby, you want to see something cool?”

Ruby’s wide eyes brightened with curiosity as she nodded.

Scott led them to the sleigh, lifting Ruby up and setting her gently on the seat. “This is where Santa sits,” he said, tapping the sleigh’s armrest. “Think you’d like to ride in one of these someday?”

Ruby giggled, her small hands gripping the edge of the sleigh. “Mama, look!”

Megan smiled, her shoulders relaxing as she reached out to steady Ruby. “She loves anything to do with Christmas,” she said softly.

Scott stepped back, giving them a moment. He observed how Megan gently interacted with her daughter, her patience unwavering even as Ruby’s attention flitted between the sleigh and her stuffed animal. There was a quiet strength in the way Megan handled herself, a resilience that intrigued him.

As Ruby climbed down, Megan turned back to Scott. “I’ll be honest,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I haven’t done anything like this before. Most of my work experience has been different.”

Scott raised an eyebrow, curious.

“But I’m eager to learn,” she continued. “And honestly, I’m looking for something steady. I know this job is temporary, but I’m willing to take anything right now to get started.”

Scott studied her for a moment, noting the way her gaze flickered to Ruby as she spoke. It wasn’t just about finding work; it was about creating stability for her daughter. That kind of motivation was rare, and it resonated with him.

“You seem like someone who gets things done,” he said finally. “Let me see what I can do about the pay. It’s not much, but I’ll make it fair.”

Megan’s face lit up with gratitude. “Thank you,” she said.

Scott glanced down at Ruby, who had started drawing shapes in the sand near the sleigh. “And I’ll make sure you’ve got some flexibility if you need to cut out early or take a longer lunch to check on Ruby.”

Megan nodded, her expression softening. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

“There’s one more thing,” Scott said, his lips twitching as he fought back a grin.

“What’s that?” Megan asked, her tone cautious, but those soulful eyes of hers brimmed with curiosity.

“The elf costume.” He turned and walked toward the shed that served as both a backdrop and a changing room for Santa’s Village, disappearing for a moment before emerging with a bright green and red outfit draped over his arm. The costume was complete with jingle bells on the shoes, striped tights, and a hat that drooped with a jaunty puffball at the tip.

“Oh,” Megan said, her brows lifting as she took in the sight of it.

“This is a Palmar Island tradition,” Scott explained, holding it up. “Every elf wears it. It’s part of the charm.”

Megan bit her lip, a faint laugh escaping as her gaze flickered to the costume. “It’s something, all right.”

Scott chuckled. “It’s festive,” he said, his tone defensive but playful. “And it’s a hit with the kids. Plus, the bells are great for getting their attention when things get chaotic.”

Megan tilted her head, a hesitant smile creeping across her face. “I’m not sure I can pull that off.”

“You’ll do fine,” Scott said, still grinning. “The trick is to own it. The kids don’t care how silly it looks. They love it. And by the second weekend, you won’t even notice how ridiculous it feels.”

Megan sighed, her laughter softening. “If this is what it takes...” She trailed off, glancing down at Ruby, who was busy tugging on Mr. Bear’s ear.

Scott handed her the costume, his grin widening. “Consider it part of the job interview. Give it a try tomorrow, and we’ll see how it goes.”

Megan looked at the costume, then back at him, shaking her head with a bemused smile. “You really don’t take it easy on your new hires, do you?”

“Not when the stakes are this high,” Scott quipped, folding his arms. “Santa’s reputation is on the line.”

Her laugh this time was genuine, light and clear, and it caught him off guard for a split second.

“Fine,” she said, tucking the costume under her arm. “But if I end up on the town’s Christmas card in this, we’re renegotiating.”

Scott smirked. “Deal.”

With that, she gathered Ruby and her things, and the two of them walked away, Megan glancing down at the costume in her arms with a shake of her head. Scott watched them for a moment, chuckling softly to himself. He could already picture her in the costume, and somehow, he knew she’d make it work.

Tomorrow was going to be interesting.