“I’m cold, does that count for anything?” Pam did not want to commit to this crazy man’s warped idea of love.
“It’s warm inside. I plead my case.” John’s expression begged and she melted. “All this chaos must have happened when I ran away from home. My parents are ready to pass the torch, and I disappeared. Evil always tries to weasel in on my stupidity and ruin one of the greatest fables of all time.”
“The torch? You mean the family business?”
“Yes. It appears I have no choice in my destiny. But I am relieved to find that it took fleeing this place to discover my true calling. Now my heart is willing accept the role designated for me.”
“But I have a choice – you promised, right?”
“You do, but can you make it from inside, after Santa Ville returns to its former state?”
“Agreed.” Pam took his hand that held the key and together they placed it inside the lock. It did not turn. “So much for that theory. Guess it only fits the transporting door.”
“Do you have the smaller key? The one Mother sent you.”
“Mother?” Pam asked.
“The Miracle-maker has handpicked you to replace Mrs. Claus. The folks are retiring. We would be the most important match of her career.”
“John, surely you know how bizarre this all appears to an outsider?”
“Once inside, the kingdom will speak for itself. Please, Pamela. My parents and all the workers may die a slow death under this mountain of snow.”
The doctor in her sprang to life as her presence here started to make sense. “I suppose that’s the reason Mrs. Claus chose me, because I’ve sworn an oath to heal. Yes, John, I will tend to any injuries the collapse caused before I leave. But I can’t stay here forever if that’s what they expect of me.”
“Let’s worry about that later,” John said.
Pam rummaged through her bag and found the ornament, thankful that she’d picked it up from the counter at the last minute, hoping to adorn John’s little tree in the storage room. John held her hand and a warm surge permeated her body. She softened under the tenderness of his gaze. Together their hands touched the ornamental key to the lock and this time the entranceway sprung open.
“I’ll lead the way. Might have to crawl some. This is the door for the elves.”
Pam chuckled. Of course, it was. This adventure was getting wackier by the minute, but her body won the debate. She craved heat. Before they proceeded inside, she heard creaking and stepped back. John caught her from stumbling.
“Quick, we need to go.” John pushed her forward.
Reluctantly, Pam slipped in behind John and felt wonderful warmth within the confined space. Snow insulation. As they started forward on their hands and knees, she turned and pulled the door shut behind them, and then hurried to catch up. She kept John’s feet in view the entire time.
Crawling was the only choice as the tunnel was only three feet high. Pam ducked and covered her head when a loud crack sounded above, fearing snow would bury them alive before she could stand on two feet again. Keeping her head low, she inched along. Thoughts of regret in beginning this trek plagued her every move. The light ahead grew stronger, and she lifted her eyes to find John facing her with his arms outstretched.
“The floor drops here to normal height. I’ll help you down. The rungs on the ladder are small for our feet. Can’t have the doctor tripping up on the final leg of the journey.”
Pam wrapped her arms around John’s neck and he pulled her out as if a featherweight. Once on her feet, she became captivated by the unguarded truth his face revealed. A mix of compassion, love, sorrow, and uncertainty clouded his expression and stilled her heart. They were on this quest together and fear was not an option.
John’s hands lingered on her waist and his steady eyes locked with hers. Pam reinforced her guard and refused her emotions to fall prey to this deception and sweep her under its control. She needed to keep a level head in this magical place that he’d brought her into. How could she be certain that her heart was beating its own rhythm and not one implanted by something else? After all, John Doe’s had certainly sung diverse melodies in the hospital, ones that had matched his ever-changing range of moods. Maybe the rhythm anomaly was characteristic of Santa Ville.
They found themselves in a huge cavern. The room was empty and John’s voice echoed. “This is the departure ring – the location where Santa takes sets out on his Christmas Eve ride around the world. Everyone gathers here and sings him off. It’s a joyous time. A well-deserved reward for a year of hard work in the toy factory.”
Pam merely nodded, afraid of what might spew from her mouth. The notion of the Santa legend – forbidden her entire childhood – containing one ounce of truth, left her stranded at a crossroad she should have navigated years ago. The kid in her longed to give in, but the adult dug her heels in.
John took her hand and led her to a massive door. “Accept whatever you see beyond this door at face value. Believe your eyes and listen to your heart, Pam. Only a child-like faith can comprehend the truth that lives in this place. It is one of the many marvels created by the Miracle Maker centuries ago.”
“I’ll try,” Pam said. And she genuinely meant it. Her educated mind provided no logical answers to this fantasyland, so faith was a welcome option.
Once inside the next cavern, John immediately
