Page 36 of A Raging Merry Christmas

“What the fuck is this?” Drake yelled, shaking the gun at her.

“That’s the rubber bullet one. I wasn’t going to shoot live ammo with the babies around. But I had to protect them from the Yeti,” Eddie replied.

“Rubber bullet?” Drake shouted, but he looked down at the gun, and his shoulders relaxed.

“You shot at me!” I bellowed at Eddie.

“Do you want Big Foot to eat your children?” she snapped.

“What? No,” I answered.

“Then a thank you for saving them would be nice,” Eddie continued.

I swapped glances with everyone, unable to believe the bare cheek of her.

“How about I don’t paddle your backside for shooting at me? I do not give a fuck if they were rubber bullets,” I snarled.

“The good news is you all know I’ll defend the kids. And so will my girls. A thanks wouldn’t be amiss,” Eddie stated sulkily. Around her, her girls pouted.

“I was shot at,” I exclaimed in disbelief.

Carly patted my arm. “You did look a lot like a Yeti. But it is all fine. You’re all safe.”

“It’s okay now?” Drake asked as if he did not believe what Carly had just said. “Eddie can get into the safe. She fired at Rock. She could have killed him.”

“But she didn’t, and I have to say I am proud of her for defending the younger children,” Phoe stated as she approached. “Rock, come and get dry and warm. Kids go back to playing. Eddie, your dad will talk to you about gun safety and explain why this could have all gone wrong.”

“I know; why do you think I grabbed the rubber bullet one?” Eddie replied.

“Well, let your father lecture you so he feels better, and then come and make some snowmen,” Phoe said.

Eddie thought about it and nodded before moving away.

“How did she end up the hero?” I demanded of Drake and my brothers.

They all shrugged.

“No idea, but Eddie always does!” Drake complained. “She’ll be the death of me. But luckily, not you!”

“Thanks, brother,” I grumbled and stomped towards the house.

A fuckin’ Yeti!

Chapter Seven –

Asleep in a manger…

Christmas Eve.

Ace

Shopping. Any type of shopping I hated. It was Christmas Eve, and I was looking for breakfast fixings for tomorrow morning, which were starting to look desperate. Snacks for the nativity play were completed. I’d just filled a cart of junk and dumped it in my truck after paying for it. Easy peasy, as Phoe would say. However, knowing what my brothers and their families ate, a full English was proving difficult to provide.

It seemed everyone in Rapid City also wanted bacon, sausage, eggs and all the rest of the trimmings, which was damn rude of them. I had over one hundred people to feed, and it was starting to get desperate. Phoe always insisted on a fry-up and pastries. And I couldn’t even find the bake-in-the-oven pastries that Phoe preferred. My phone rang, and I glanced down and saw it was my wife.

“Hey babe,” I said with forced cheer.

“You’re hitting problems with the food, aren’t you? So cocky. I warned you,” Artemis stated without preamble. Damn that woman. She knew me too well.