Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“What? You want to give me a piggy-back ride all the way to the Civic Center? But it’s almost a mile away!” Mattie protested. “You’ll break your back—I weigh too much.”
“I could lift you with one arm tied behind my back,” Grath growled. “Now get on board so we can go! You have to make your big, tender balls for the judges and beat your tormentor! Today you will have vengeance!”
His battle cry inspired her and Mattie found that she was half-laughing by the end of his little speech.
“All right then—whatever you say,” she said. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward and put her arms around his neck. Then, with a little hop, she got her legs around his waist. Grath curled his muscular arms under her thighs, supporting her with apparent ease.
“I’ve got spikes at the bottom of my boots, so don’t worry about the ice,” he told her. “Just hold on and give me directions as we go.”
“All right!” Mattie breathed in his ear. “Then let’s goooo!”
The last word was torn from her throat in a gasp as Grath leaped forward, flying down the path with her on his back as she clung to his broad shoulders for dear life.
They were on their way to the Bake-off and nothing was going to slow them down!
SIXTEEN
MATTIE
The wind rushed through her hair and Mattie found herself laughing with exhilaration as Grath carried her through the streets of Christmasville. She saw shocked glances everywhere they went—some disapproving and some envious—but she didn’t pay any attention. She just kept calling out directions to the big Hybrid as he ran through the streets, dodging pedestrians and traffic alike in their headlong rush to the Civic Center.
“Left at this street!” she shouted as he ran. “Now take a right! There it is—up ahead! That big, two-story building with the Christmas Tree out front!”
Almost before she knew it, Grath was coming to a halt in front of the Christmasville Civic Center, which was decorated within an inch of its life with a giant Christmas tree and a life-size Nativity Set out front.
“Down, little girl,” he ordered, crouching again so that Mattie could slide off his back. He wasn’t even breathing all that hard, though his midnight eyes were bright from exertion.
“Thank you,” Mattie said breathlessly. “Come on—I think we should just about make it.”
Grath pulled open the glass door and she stepped into the familiar front lobby of the center. It was decorated with a small, burbling fountain and a lot of potted plants which had all been strung with Christmas lights. A staircase on one side led to the upstairs classrooms and on the other side of the room was the glass window that led to the center’s front office.
“Hi—we’re here for the Bake-off,” Mattie said to the clerk behind the window.
The clerk nodded.
“Straight back to the ballroom—they’re just about to get started,” she said genially. “And good luck!”
Mattie thanked her and took Grath by the hand without thinking about it—it felt good to have his support in this situation. Together they walked through the double doors at the back of the Civic Center.
The back of the center was huge—at least three or four times as big as the large front lobby. It served as a public meeting place for all of Christmasville’s civic events, like town meetings and voting during elections. And right now, it was set up for the Bake-off with a long row of ovens on one side and an equally long row of tables piled high with ingredients and equipment opposite them.
“Name?” asked a woman with brown hair and a Christmas print dress as she bustled up to them with a clipboard. She was wearing a nametag with “Mrs. Harris” printed neatly on it in block letters.
“Oh—Madeline Porter,” Mattie said quickly.
“Yes, Ms. Porter—you just made it,” the woman said, nodding. “Your mother was here just yesterday dropping off everything you need for your recipe. Pecan sandy snowballs—correct?”
“Yup, that’s my specialty!” Mattie laughed nervously. Back when she’d still lived in Christmasville, she had entered the Bake-off several times, but she’d never won. That honor had always gone to Amanda Hutchinson. She looked anxiously around the woman checking them in, but she didn’t see her old nemesis in the little knot of contestants at the other end of the large room. Well, that was a relief, anyway!
“And who is this?” Mrs. Harris demanded, looking up at Grath distrustfully.
“I’m her Protector,” he growled.
“Er, sous chef—he’s my sous chef!” Mattie corrected quickly. “We’re allowed to have an assistant, aren’t we?” In the past, she’d always taken her sister Anna with her.
“Yes, you are.” The woman cast a last, doubtful glance at Grath but finally nodded. “The judges are just about to address the contestants. Go listen to what they have to say and then you’re at table number nine. Here—wear these.” And she peeled two stickers off a list on her clipboard and handed them to Grath and Mattie.