Page 32 of Kringle and the Kraken

“I’m positive. You promised you’d take me out to see the trees. Seems like now is as good a time as any.”

“Okay, but you know they’re going to put you to work, right?”

He nodded. “I’m ready.”

The parking lot was packed when we pulled in, and I understood why Keith had called. Cars were parked everywhere, almost all the way to the road, and more pulled in behind us. Apparently, everyone in a fifty-mile radius had decided today was the day to buy their tree. Maneuvering my truck off the gravel and onto the grass, I pulled behind the barn. There were people milling about all over, and I spotted my family weaving between them, trying to take care of everyone.

Levi was still wearing his jacket that was better suited to a New England fall than winter, and I turned to reach behind the seat. “You’re going to need a hat and gloves.” I tossed Levi a pair of worn work gloves and a red hat my sister Kimmy had knitted for me a couple years ago when she was in a yarn crafts and homemade gifts phase, and he slid them on, flexing his fingers in the gloves. I liked seeing him in my gear, and I tried to ignore the way my heart stuttered as I got out of the car.

Kevin rushed past us carrying a fistful of tree tickets. “’Bout time you showed up! We’re damn near under siege!” He was still smiling, though, so it wasn’t really that bad. At least not yet.

“Do you want me to take some of those?” I nodded to the tickets in his hand.

“Nah, I’ve got these. Find Keith. He’s been collecting the tickets and passing them out to the rest of us.”

“Got it.”

Grabbing Levi’s gloved hand, I dragged him toward the working barn opposite the Santa’s workshop building where two lines of people were waiting.

Keith and one of the high school kids we hired for the holidays were standing behind the counter. The high schooler was passing out numbered tree tickets and maps while explaining how to pick and mark a tree and what to do when they were done. Keith was taking the returned tree tickets and organizing them into piles based on location.

“Maybe I should have asked before, but how does this work?” Levi’s question brought me up short, and I pulled him to the side to quickly explain.

“We are a pick-your-own-tree operation, but we do the cutting. It’s safer, and we can do the shaking, drilling, and baling at the back of the property while customers drink cocoa and experience the workshop up here, then pick up their tree when it’s ready.”

“And the tickets?”

“Each person or family gets a ticket that has two parts. They tag the tree they want with one and write the location on the other, then they tear it off and bring it back here. The farm is organized into sections with rows. Each tag is numbered, and when the tags are returned, we go out and cut them down and prep them in batches.” Keith saw us standing nearby and picked up a stack of tickets waving them in our direction. “Ready to work? Looks like Keith has a bunch ready for us.”

“Lead the way.”

We exchanged quick hellos with my brother, and he handed us a pile of tree tickets and the keys to one of the ATVs. I led Levi out behind the barn, and we loaded into the seats of the ATV, the trailer bumping along behind us as we navigated out to the section of the farm that held the trees we were looking for. I knew the farm like the back of my hand, and I navigated us to the exact right spot in just a few minutes.

I parked near a row of Fraser firs and killed the engine. Climbing out, I grabbed the handsaw from the hook on the trailer, pleased to see it was nice and sharp. The air was cold and heavy, and just before the first flake fell, I knew it was about to snow.

Levi had grabbed the tickets I’d left in the cab and met me near the trailer, both of us looking up to watch the soft flakes fall. Levi sighed, and I wanted to take his hand and walk through thetrees, but we had work to do and families waiting for the trees they’d picked.

Sighing, I explained our role to Levi, who was still looking at the sky. “All these tickets go with trees tagged in this area. We find the tree, cut it down, and load it into the trailer, then we take them back to the barn where they get shaken out, drilled for a tree stand, and sent through the baler.”

“I’m going to pretend I understood all of that.”

I smiled. “You’ll see in a bit.” I held out my hand. “Give me a tag.”

Levi passed a neon pink tag my way, and I navigated to the correct row and tree marked on the tag, matching up the numbers. “This is it.” I lifted some of the lowest branches and double-checked the tree had a trunk that was the right diameter. Since I’d grown up doing this, I could tell from a glance that the trunk was good, and I got down on the ground, shimmying closer to the tree with the saw.

“What do you want me to do?” Levi towered above me in this position, and he looked so adorable in my hat, now flecked with snow, smiling down at me while more snow fell around him.

“Reach in and hold the trunk. When I’m through, I’ll let you know, and we can carry it over to the trailer.” I started to climb under the tree and spoke to Levi over my shoulder. “And don’t let the tag fall off.”

“Got it.”

Now in position, I cut through the trunk as close to the ground as I could, giving Levi a warning that I was almost through and that he’d have all the weight in a second. It was great to have a hand. Usually, I cut the trees and let them fall, then had to carry them to the trailer myself. Working with Levi chopped the time in half, and before I knew it, we were on the last one. Consulting the tag, I groaned. I knew the tree well, andit was a total pain in the ass to get to. It also sat on a little bit of a hill.

I pulled the ATV as close to where the tree was as possible, which wasn’t very close at all. The snow was falling heavily now, and at least an inch or two had accumulated on the frozen ground already. The wind had also picked up. We were in for one heck of a storm.

From where we’d stopped, I could see the ten-foot blue spruce, and I pointed to the tree. “Saved the worst for last.”

“How do we get down there?” Levi looked down at his shoes. He was wearing boots, but they were the casual kind, not the work kind, and I felt bad that I hadn’t thought about his footwear before we came out to the trees.

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