Page 29 of Fire in My Heart

“A little more what?” I barked.

Charlotte dropped her hand and stepped away from me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wonder if you’d be more relaxed, willing to have fun.”

My gut swirled with emotions I didn’t want to acknowledge. “I can have fun.”

Charlotte smiled, and her dimple popped.

“I don’t think it’s fun to hang glide or jump out of planes.” I racked my brain for evidence that I was capable of having fun, but I wasn’t having much success. I worked, I helped out on the farm, I checked on my family, especially my father, and now, I monitored the renovations on my home. When was the last time I had fun?

Noah handed the tag to Kimberly at the counter, and she rung him up. I waited with Charlotte while they checked out, then pushed the tree toward the bailer, and waited for the Thatchers to pull up their SUV. It was large and black, and I was surprised he was okay with the tree on top. It would most likely get more than a few scratches from the needles.

“You think the Thatchers will be back?” I asked Charlotte, eager to know about her analysis.

“That’s a tough one. They didn’t participate in any aspect of the experience. It’s easier for them to get an artificial one, which they probably already own, or buy one from the cut lot. Gina said Noah is usually too busy at work to do these family things, which is sad.” Charlotte pursed her lips as if it was upsetting to her.

I found every emotion that flitted across her face fascinating because I thought she was only capable of a false happiness. But the more time I spent with her, the more I realized it wasn’t fake. She felt an array of emotions that she wasn’t afraid to feel or express.

That was foreign to me. I’d been numb ever since my mother died, and I felt like I had to be the man of the house. Dad had been falling apart, and my siblings needed me. Even though Fiona was the oldest, she’d been in college and didn’t return. I was the one who’d transferred to be closer to home.

“That was fun. Should we help someone else?” Charlotte looked around for another family that appeared ready toventure into the fields. She zeroed in on one that had two kids. “Let’s talk to them.”

Normally, I wouldn’t feel excited about this part of my job. It was just something I did. But Charlotte saw it as helping people and making their holidays special.

This time Charlotte approached the family, her hand held out. “I’m Charlotte, and this is Teddy. We work on the farm. Were you looking to hike to one of the fields today?”

“We are, and we have no idea what we’re doing,” the woman said with a pointed look at her husband, whose cheeks were pink.

“We can help,” Charlotte said as she led the way, asking for the kids’ names, which were Payton and Landon. “What kind of tree were you looking for?”

“A green one,” one of the smart-aleck kids said.

“We have blue ones too, so that helps me narrow it down,” Charlotte said seriously, and the boy looked a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected there to be different color trees.

When we reached the nearest field open for cutting, Charlotte went through the various types of trees and their positive attributes.

My chest filled with pride that she’d remembered what I’d taught her. The family picked a Douglas fir which was smaller and less expensive.

This time, Charlotte told the husband how to cut down the tree, and he did it himself. I felt like I was just along to haul the tree away, but that was fine. I had a feeling families probably preferred Charlotte’s company to mine.

I wasn’t one to chat with a family, asking about their holiday plans. But Charlotte was right at home, seemingly happy to get to know these strangers.

By the time we made it back to the barn and saw the family off, the sun was setting.

“You can head home if you want.”

“If you don’t mind? I’d love to jot down my notes and analyze the data I collected.”

She hadn’t struck me as a data girl before, but then again, I hadn’t known her. I’d made assumptions about the type of person she was. But she was so much more than I thought. “You don’t want to relax?”

“Oh, sure, but my brain is overflowing with ideas, and if I don’t write them down, they might disappear forever.”

“I’d love to hear your ideas.” Why had I said that? My job was to make things difficult for her, push her to move on to some other unsuspecting business. Not encourage her to stay.

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“I’m interested in what you figured out.”

“Let me take a bath and make some dinner. If you come around seven, I’ll have something for you to eat.”

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