The Christmas Kilt: A Christmas Central Romantic Comedy, #8

By Caroline Mickelson

One kilt, two people meant to be together, and a dozen complications equal a Christmas fiasco in the making.

No matter how Santa Claus tries to crunch the numbers, he can't make them add up to equal a love match between museum curators Jack Lantz and Kirsten Nichols. The two lonely hearts are perfect for each other but they're also too caught up in a race to acquire an antique kilt to notice their chemistry. Santa, however, is convinced that the two make an ideal couple. Perhaps adding a handful of North Pole elves and a pinch of holiday magic to the situation will help the course of true love run smooth?

What ensues is a romantic romp that begins in Scotland and ends at the North Pole, and begs this question: Will Kirsten and Jack discover the kilt's location? Or will they find true love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bon Accord Press
• Release date: Dec 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393615231

Book preview

1

V eer right, Santa. Not left, right. Right! Watch out for that clock tower straight ahead! Rapz sucked in a lungful of oxygen. We’re going to crash! We’re going to crash! The snow flurries are too heavy to see through. We need to make an emergency landing. Land now, Santa! Can you hear me? Santa!

Rapz put that snow globe down and join us at the table, please. Santa’s voice carried across his office, his tone firm yet kind as he spoke to the well-meaning but ever excitable elf. Come along, my good fellow. I want you in on this meeting. He watched as Rapz replaced the snow globe on the shelf. Once Rapz had taken his seat at the conference table, Santa spoke again. Let me be succinct, a special situation has come up and we need to put our heads together to find a way to handle it.

We’re listening, Dad, Saint Nick said. Whatever it is, between us, we’ve got you covered.

Santa gazed around the table. In addition to Rapz and his son, he’d summoned his daughter Carol, niece Kris, and daughter-in-law, Holly. He’d also asked Jolly and Tinsel to sit in. Nick was right. Between those assembled, there was an abundance of good intentions, kind hearts, and willing hands. He felt some of the tension ease from his body.

What is it, Uncle Santa? Kris asked. You look worried.

He nodded. Frankly, I am, my dear. Christmas is only two weeks away--

Carol lifted a finger to interrupt him. Let me assure you, Dad, that we’re on a track for a record-breaking year. The reindeer are in tip-top condition, Garrett told me the sleigh has been tuned up and is in better shape than ever, and preliminary weather reports for the twenty-fourth show mostly clear skies with no disturbing storm patterns expected.

Wonderful, Santa said. "That is reassuring."

Does this situation pertain to something going on here at Christmas Central or down below? Holly asked.

Santa smiled at his daughter-in-law. She was ever so efficient and always willing to help, for which he was grateful. His eyes scanned the caring faces of those seated at the table. To a one, they were dedicated to making Christmas a special day for millions of people around the world. He loved them all for keeping the holiday spirit in their hearts the year-round.

Yo, Santa, my stomach’s growling, Rapz said. Can we move this along?

Before Santa could respond, Kris slid an as yet untouched tray of cut-up vegetables toward the errant elf.

Rapz made a face. I’m not that desperate, thanks anyway.

Lest the debate about the nutritional value of sugar cookies versus veggies begin to wage again, Santa spoke up. This is about a special kilt.

Tinsel leaned forward, his brow furrowed. A quilt, you say?

Kilt, he said kilt, Rapz raised his voice to accommodate Tinsel, who’d recently begun to experience hearing loss. You know, man-skirt.

Ah, yes, a kilt, Tinsel said. He looked to Santa, his expression serious. What about it? Is it on someone’s wish list?

That’s precisely the problem, my good fellow, Santa answered. It’s on two people’s list.

We still have time to design and manufacture another kilt, Santa. Holly picked up her stylus and began to tap her tablet. If you can give me the size specifications and which family tartan you need, I’ll make certain it’s completed ASAP.

Santa steepled his white-gloved fingers together. Ah, were it only that simple, my dear.

What’s so special about this kilt? Nick asked.

Well, first of all, it’s old. An antique. Worn at the battle of Culloden, if you can believe that, Santa said.

I’d believe it if I knew who or what this Culloden was, Rapz said. Was it a party or something?

Jolly, with admirable tact, answered his query. It was a massacre that occurred near Inverness in Scotland in April of 1746. The Scots fought with admirable bravery but they were outnumbered, she told them. When the Jacobites were defeated it ended their dream of putting Bonnie Prince Charlie onto the British throne.

You don’t say. Rapz’s brow furrowed in thought before he spoke again. If it survived a ferocious battle, what kind of shape is this kilt in?

Pristine condition considering its age, thanks to the loving care lavished on it by the McLeod family over the years, Santa answered. It’s been a treasured family heirloom for generations. But the last of the family has died without heirs so the kilt needs a new home.

You’d think the family would have made provisions to donate it if there was no one to inherit it, Carol said.

Not everyone is comfortable with their mortality, my dear, her father said.

Who are the two people who want it? Saint Nick asked. And which of them is more entitled to it, do you think?

There’s an American named Jack Lantz who wants it, Santa answered. And an Englishwoman named Kirsten Nichols who wants it just as badly. In answer to your second question, neither are related to the McLeods in any way so I can’t say there is entitlement on either side, just a strong desire to possess it for their own reasons.

Valid reasons? Carol asked.

Santa nodded. They seem to think so. Both Jack and Kirsten work for museums with healthy budgets so they’re able to compete on that level. Complicating things, they also have strong personal reasons for wanting to acquire the kilt.

Whose letter arrived first, Dad? Nick asked.

Santa grimaced. We’re not entirely sure. Both arrived during that particular week when the incoming letters weren’t time or date stamped as they arrived in the mail-room.

Silence filled the air as everyone at the table turned to look at Rapz, who had the good grace to look abashed. What? It was an honest mistake. I thought I’d found a new way to automate the process.

Santa shook his head, an indulgent smile on his lips. Well, it was worth a try but never mind now. His smile faded. There’s something else you should all know about Jack and Kirsten. The rapt expressions around him told him that his audience was curious. They wrote something else in their Christmas letter that was an exact match. They both expressed their desire to meet and fall in love with their as yet unknown ‘other half’.

Carol’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape.

Kris leaned forward. Did they both use the phrase ‘other half’?

Santa nodded. Yes, which complicates things.

Holly’s brow furrowed. How so, Santa?

Well, my dear, the way they worded their letters means they’re destined to be together.

Holly nodded her understanding. I see. Which makes the kilt the perfect thing to bring them together.

Or keep them apart, Nick said. Depending on how stubborn they are going to be about it.

Rapz groaned. Can’t we just shuttle this across to Cupid’s desk? It sounds like a job better suited for him than us. Two hearts and one kilt, there’s a challenge for the little cherub.

Santa shook his head. No, Rapz. Because both Kirsten and Jack expressly wrote out their desire to own the kilt AND to fall in love in a letter addressed to me, it’s very much our domain. Now we need to find a way to bring them together. Ideas anyone?

Where is the kilt now? Tinsel asked.

Excellent question, Santa nodded approvingly. Tinsel was a wise elf with a placid nature, both attributes that endeared him to the Claus family. "At the moment, it’s on display in the window at