A Green Valley Christmoose Disaster

  A GREEN VALLEY CHRISTMOOSE DISASTER

  ZOE CHANT

  Copyright © 2021 by Zoe Chant

  Cover by Ellen Million

  All rights reserved.

  CONTENTS

  A Quick Guide to Green Valley

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  A Thank You from Zoe

  Other Work by Zoe Chant

  Writing as Elva Birch

  The Book I’m not Writing

  Sneak Preview of The Dragon Prince of Alaska…

  For Bonnie, who may recognize Green Valley…

  A QUICK GUIDE TO GREEN VALLEY

  Green Valley Shifters is a series of gentle, funny, found-family standalone short shifter novels with single dads, spinsters, and sweet second chances, plus hilarious children and pets. Each book can be read independently, but you may enjoy them most in order, as you’ll see the following characters:

  Patricia runs the local preschool. Lee is a bear shifter and his daughter is Clara. Find their story in Dancing Bearfoot (Book 1).

  Andrea is Patricia’s assistant at the preschool, and a hawk shifter. Shaun Powell is a tiger shifter, Trevor is his precocious lion shifter son. They meet in The Tiger Next Door (Book 2).

  Tawny is a local spinster who meets big city lion shifter Damien, the father of Shaun and Shelley, in Dandelion Season (Book 3)

  Shelley, a lion shifter herself, comes to Green Valley in Bearly Together (Book 4) and finds single dad Dean, a bear shifter, and his son Aaron (with two As!).

  Local prankster Jamie returns from firefighting in Alaska to run into new resident Devon, a lynx shifter raising his kid sister, Abby, in Broken Lynx (Book 5)

  Fire chief Turner, a moose shifter, meets his destiny when he rescues Linda Powell, Shelley’s mother, from a stray dog in A Green Valley Christmoose Disaster.

  CHAPTER 1

  “This is a disaster!”

  “More of a disaster than usual?” As the vice principal of a small-town high school, Turner was used to being greeted this way. He peered past Andrea into the gym, trying to gauge the exact nature of this one.

  Every year, Green Valley High hosted a multi-denominational Christmas pageant that had swelled into a general winter holiday celebration. There were tables along the sides being decorated with social studies make-up projects presenting the holidays of Kwanzaa and Diwali. The Hanukkah table was already laid out, and it would have the addition of latkes and challah bread the following day.

  Andrea was one of the two preschool teachers in charge of organizing the kids for the pageant, along with Patricia, whose baby was somehow sleeping through the chaos in a car seat by Patricia’s feet as she handed out scripts and props.

  The stage was being set with a nativity scene and several middle-school students were still painting the sets.

  A doll in a straw-filled manger was being pushed around like a shopping cart by two young boys: Aaron and Trevor, Andrea’s stepson. They were both yelling at the top of their lungs and someone’s toddler was wobbling after them, punctuating the chaos with shrieks of joy.

  Nothing appeared to be on fire, at least. As the chief of the tiny volunteer fire department, that was always Turner’s first worry.

  “It all looks situation normal to me,” Turner said with a shrug.

  “Clara is crying in the bathroom because she doesn’t want to be Mary,” Andrea explained. “She wants to be an angel because they are pretty. Aaron says he won’t marry Mary, Trevor says he would marry Mary, and the three wise men have already lost all the gifts for baby Jesus. The shepherds want to bring real sheep for ‘ethnicity,’ though I think they mean ‘authenticity,’ and we can’t get the power on the star working. Agnes is having a snit about the Catholic choir getting to do the songs that the Methodist choir wants to do, and the soloist for O Holy Night has a sore throat.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No, it gets worse! I can’t get ahold of Officer Stakes,” Andrea continued. “I think he’s ignoring my calls. Do you know what that means?”

  “He’s gone to spend Christmas with his folks in Omaha like he always does?”

  “He said he would leave after the show,” Andrea said. “What this means is that I don’t have a Santa Claus.”

  Trevor and Aaron happened to be pushing the manger with baby Jesus past at that moment and both of them ground to a halt.

  “There’s no Santa Claus?” Aaron demanded.

  Turner didn’t usually have to deal with the “is Santa real” issue in high school. Andrea stepped in deftly. “The guy who was going to help Santa Claus is missing,” she said cheerfully. “Santa is really busy at this time of year, you know?”

  Aaron didn’t look particularly appeased.

  “Abby says Santa Claus isn’t real,” Trevor said direly.

  The toddler who had been chasing after them caught up and crashed into the back of Aaron. “Sanna!” he hollered, falling backwards onto his diaper-padded butt. “Sanna Caws!”

  From across the room, Patricia was clapping her hands for attention. “We’re going to start the rehearsal for the pageant now, boys and girls!”

  From the stage, Abby protested, “We’re still painting!”

  “Carry on,” Patricia said. “We’ll avoid touching any of the set. Can I get all the angels and shepherds over here, please? Agnes, do you mind if we move these chairs for now?”

  Agnes said she didn’t mind, but very much as if she did mind, and she took her chairs off the side of the stage in a huff while Patricia got everyone lined up.

  Clara, looking very sulky indeed, stood with her arms crossed in the middle of the stage while Aaron and Trevor took their spots and Patricia gently herded everyone else into place.

  “THIS IS THE STORY OF THE FIRST CHRISTMAS THE NIGHT JESUS CHRIST WAS BORN WE CELEBRATE THIS TO REMEMBER THE HOPE AND JOY THAT THIS TINY BABY BROUGHT INTO THE WORLD—” Trevor read from his script at the top of his lungs, speaking very fast and taking no breaths.

  “Trevor—” Patricia tried to stop him.

  “ONTHATEXTRAORDINARYNIGHT—”

  Turner wasn’t sure how the boy hadn’t passed out yet.

  “INBETHLEHAMTWOTHOUSANDYEARS—”

  “Trevor!”

  Trevor finally ran out of breath. “What?” he gasped.

  “You have to slow down, honey! Remember that the periods are places we take breaths. Try it again?”

  Trevor cleared his throat and shook his script. “This. Is the story. Of. The first. Christ. Mas. The night...”

  Someone in the shepherds made a snoring sound.

  “Well, it’s nice to know that the Green Valley multi-denominational Christmas pageant and winter festival holiday celebration will always be an event of somber dignity,” Andrea observed to Turner as Patricia got the shepherds hushed and Trevor reading his parts at a reasonable rate. “Now, Turner...or should I say Santa Claus?”

  Turner shot her a look of horror. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “You’ve already got plenty of silver in your hair. We’ll get you a beard,” Andrea promised. “You’ll be great. You’re already plenty jolly.”

  Turner groaned. “I have enough trouble getting my kids to take me seriously without b
eing called Santa Claus for the next six months.”

  “Who would even know it’s you?” Andrea asked brightly. “You’ll be in costume!”

  “Green Valley is not that big,” Turner pointed out. “I don’t think anyone out of diapers will be fooled.”

  “Well, we don’t have that many options who will fit the Santa suit,” Andrea argued. “We might still have to take it in a little. It’s hanging in the dressing room, go try it on. Shelley will be here any minute to fit costumes and she can alter it if we need. Oh, there’s Marta, I need to talk to her about parking in front of the library. I’ll be right back to check the fit.”

  Turner found the suit, sighed, and shrugged it on over his clothes. The legs were big enough that he could stuff his boots right through them. Andrea was nowhere to be seen when he emerged from the make-shift dressing room.

  Patricia was on the stage, trying to convince Clara to put some emotion into her acceptance of Gabriel’s great news. “You should be really happy, dear! These are joyous tidings! Show me how happy you are!”

  The shepherds and little angels were starting to get rowdy in the wings. “Why don’t you guys go with Gabriel and practice your lines over there. We’re going to practice the procession to the manger now.”

  A few of the angels squealed in delight and Clara looked crabbier than ever as she led Trevor and Aaron and a bewildered-looking Gabriel off the stage.

  The phone in Turner’s pocket rang and he had to dig through layers of costume to find it.

  “Go!” he said briskly, lifting it to his ear.

  “Hey Turner,” the dispatcher said with no urgency. “I’ve got a call about a dog in a car.”

  “A dog in a car?” he asked skeptically.

  “A very large, terrifying dog, apparently. She sounded hysterical.”

  “Isn’t that something for the police?” Turner asked, plucking at the extra folds of the giant Santa suit. He was as tall as Stakes, and as broad at the shoulder, but either Stakes had been stuffing his suit, or he had a lot more belly than Turner realized.

  “Officer Stakes isn’t picking up or responding to messages,” the dispatcher said apologetically. “You were next on the list.”

  Turner frowned. That really was very unlike Stakes. Dodging Andrea was one thing. Ignoring the dispatcher was quite another. “Maybe something came up and he headed down to see his folks a day early?” It didn’t quite add up.

  “That could be it,” the dispatcher said skeptically. The dispatch office was two towns over from Green Valley, but the county was small enough that everyone knew everyone in public service, at least a little. “It’s probably not a missing persons case yet.”

  “I’ll check in at his house,” Turner promised. “Just as soon as I’ve saved some lady from a dog. What’s the address?”

  “Dean’s place,” she said. “Thanks, Turner.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” Turner said politely.

  Across the gym, there was a crash.

  “That paint is WET!” Abby hollered at the top of her lungs. “Don’t touch it, you little munchkin!”

  The toddler started wailing and the shepherds all broke out in fake farts.

  Turner fled while he could.

  CHAPTER 2

  Linda slowed the car at the curve and looked down over the little town for a moment. There was no traffic on the road to worry about; she’d only seen one truck since she left the highway, and Green Valley was a picturesque postcard beneath her, snow-covered and sparkling.

  It was the perfect place to spend a few days of Christmas holiday before stealing her daughter Shelley and her new boyfriend away for a surprise vacation to Cancun.

  “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” she asked the phone in the center console as she continued the drive down into town.

  “I promise that everything is going perfectly smoothly,” Julie’s voice promised. “I’ve been in touch with the caterer and the orchestra, and the planners say that everything is right on schedule. You should enjoy your vacation.”

  “Well, if you need me to lean on the mayor, or if Gladys in accounting gives you any trouble–”

  Julie’s laugh cut her off. “I don’t need you to ride in the rescue,” she promised. “The Christmas Charity Gala will do absolutely fine without you.”

  Linda chuckled sheepishly. “Alright, I’ll trust you. You’ve got this, I don’t need to babysit you.” Did she sound a little wistful? She had single-handedly saved the Gala from obscurity ten years ago and turned it into Lincoln’s greatest annual charity event. It was bittersweet that it didn’t really need her anymore. She liked coming to the rescue.

  “Pinch your grandson’s cheeks for me,” Julie said. “And say hello to your kids.”

  “I will.” Linda hung up with a voice command and the GPS advised her to take the next turn, into a sleepy neighborhood strung with Christmas lights.

  Three years ago, her stepson Shaun had come to Green Valley to take custody of his son, Trevor. To Linda’s surprise, instead of bringing Trevor back to Milwaukee, he eloped with Trevor’s preschool teacher and left his accounting business to start a bakery in the middle of nowhere.

  Linda hadn’t liked Shaun’s ex-wife, Harriet, but she found Andrea delightful, and had vacationed with them twice in Florida.

  Then, just this fall, Linda’s daughter Shelley announced that she was also moving to Green Valley. She abandoned her successful law career to move in with a man she’d just met named Dean, who was from various accounts a mechanic, a firefighter, the owner of a hardware store, an aspiring engineer, but perhaps most unexpectedly, the father of a little boy that was Trevor’s age. Shelley had always sworn off of children, but she was throwing herself wholeheartedly into the role of Aaron’s mother and Linda was concerned that she didn’t understand what she’d bitten off and might be looking for escape.

  Linda knew a little about that. She’d been young and foolish when she married Shaun’s father, Damien. Suddenly becoming the mother of an active boy mourning his mother had been a big challenge, and baby Shelley had come along not long after to complicate matters. Linda loved both of her children without reserve, but she also knew how hard it was to be in Shelley’s shoes, abruptly a parent. Her own marriage hadn’t survived it, though she had weathered it until Shelley was in high school.

  Linda shook her head to banish the memories. Shaun and Shelley weren’t even the only ones from their broken family who had come to Green Valley; Shelley had let it slip that Damien had also chosen to settle down in the little town, buying a house in the nearby hills.

  Clearly, something was up with this unassuming town, and Linda was here to spend a few days figuring out how it had ensnared both her offspring before she whisked Shelley and Dean off on the surprise trip to Cancun.

  Shelley had already told her that his son would be with his mother’s family for Christmas Day and the two weeks after. Linda couldn’t imagine that anything in this tiny town that she’d spent hours driving through nowhere to get to could possibly have any appeal compared to a hot beach with cold drinks.

  Shelly would be so surprised and delighted—two weeks in a luxury resort in Cancun!—and Linda could catch up with Shaun and Andrea and spend a few days socializing with him and her grandson Trevor before they left. It was a fun and impulsive plan, and they were all going to absolutely love it.

  Linda pulled her car up to the sidewalk and double-checked the address on her phone.

  It was a charming house, the lawn littered with toys and sleds. There was a blow-up Santa standing lopsided near the gate going up to the house and Linda exchanged a wry look of amusement with it as she passed.

  Gleefully anticipating the look of relief and delight that would be on Shelley’s face, Linda pressed the doorbell. Someone inside was laughing, and two voices were talking loudly. One of them was male, the other might have been Shelley. Linda could not quite make out what they were saying.

  Linda didn’t hear the bell from outside, and they
didn’t seem to be coming to the door. Maybe she should have called? She wrestled the rickety screen door open and knocked on the door. “Shelley? Honey?”

  The door opened in an impolite burst and Linda let the screen door fall shut on her, nearly losing her balance in surprise. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed.

  The man who had opened the door was young and handsome, and his face was lit up in laughter. “Sorry, can I help you?”

  “You must be Dean?”

  “We’re going to be late! Where’s my sweater?” Shelley came bounding from behind him in the house, and she skidded to an ungraceful stop when she spotted Linda. “Mom?!”

  Linda had to stare.

  Shelley’s hair was down, loose and untidy around her shoulders, and her shirt was buttoned one-hole off from straight. More surprising than her mussed clothing and coif was the expression on her face. She had been laughing, her whole face easy and happy. Even the shock that had settled there couldn’t hide the unmistakable joy and uncharacteristic softness behind her alarm.

  Shelly wasn’t soft.

  Shelley wasn’t joyful, and she certainly didn’t bounce around like a child. She hadn’t even done that when she was a child.

  “Hi, honey,” Linda said, less sure of her script than she had been. “I’m here to rescue you.”

  Shelley came to stand beside Dean in the narrow entry. “Rescue me from what?”

  “I’ve got tickets for all of us to Cancun. You’re invited, Dean! I got us a great little cottage on the beach, with a private pool. I’ve got a few days to catch up with Shaun, some presents for everyone…”