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or
where she came from.
    Perhaps he needed to make a Christmas
wish of his own. But although he was the son of the man the world knew as Santa
Claus, Niklas rather put his faith in prayer.
    Dear Lord...
     

Chapter 4
     
    Interesting. Sarah
could’ve sworn Santa had flirted with her. Maybe that was just his way—probably
meant nothing by it. Then again, the man behind all that fluff and fur wasn’t
old by any means. Wonder if there’s a Mrs. Claus?
    As Sarah turned her little rental onto
the snowy road, her stomach growled. She’d barely eaten lunch. Not much to like
about airplane food. Should’ve asked Santa where to buy groceries. Perhaps there’d be an all-night convenience store at the gas station where she
had to collect her cabin keys. She’d planned on doing a little shopping this
afternoon, not spending her time waiting to see the man in red. And if her muse
played along as Sarah suspected it might, she’d not see the light of day for a
while. She chuckled. With only an hour or two’s daylight in Lapland now, she
wouldn’t see the light of day anyway.
    Contending once again with the snow and
concentrating hard to stay on the opposite side of the road, Sarah inched the
Micra toward the hazy glow of the gas station’s neon lights beckoning up ahead.
    Sarah slowed the car and veered to the
right. She’d barely made the turn when a black Range Rover whizzed past her
left. She started, not expecting anyone that side. Or so close. Such a maniac,
and on these icy roads. Impatient imbecile. It’s not as if she drove
like an old lady. Not really. He could’ve waited until she’d fully turned
before scaring the last touch of color from her. Now she’d really blend into
her surroundings.
    Her stomach gave a loud cheer when she spotted
the small convenience store at the gas station. Open. She’d have food tonight,
and for the next few days. She didn’t need much—she rarely ate when on a
writing roll. Being indoors all day, she wouldn’t expend much energy either.
Sarah couldn’t see herself venturing outside for more than a few minutes in
these temperatures. And if the excitement buzzing inside her head for this
story would continue for the next eighty thousand words, she’d be in front of
her laptop for most of her time in Lapland. Already she had a hero—Nick, with
the gorgeous blue eyes—which is a whole lot more than she’d left home with two
days ago.
    Title: Blue Eyed Santa. Meh.
Not sure. Maybe.
    A half hour later, Toivonen No. 1 keys
in hand and stocked with supplies—some instant meals, cereal, tinned food, and
the all-important coffee for writers and milestone treats—she ventured back
onto the road and headed for her log house in the woods. She hoped.
    Sarah had no problem finding the cabins.
One turn to her left and straight down the road. Leaving her luggage and
groceries in the car, she slipped the laptop bag over her shoulder and trudged
toward the postcard perfect cabin, sinking knee-deep with each labored step.
The porch light bathed the surrounds in a soft glow.
    Standing on the porch, she looked back
at the trail she’d left in the snow. The distance had seemed farther from the
car to the cabin while she’d pushed her way through the snow.
    She tried the key in the front door,
only to find the cabin unlocked. Frowning, she mumbled, “And I had to fetch the
keys, why?” The owner could’ve left them inside for her.
    Pushing open the door, Sarah stepped
inside.
    Warmth filled the single room. How
thoughtful, someone had started a fire. Good. She knew nothing about making
fires, and the notion that she’d have to do that for the next three weeks or
possibly freeze never entered her mind when she’d clicked ‘book’. Then again,
not much had entered her mind on Thursday afternoon. She may just need to live
in her onesie, socks, slippers, jacket, beanie and any other thick, thermal, or
bulky item of clothing.
    The cabin appeared smaller than the
photos on the website, but it