Page 4 of Season of Gifts

In the end, Henry drove, and Alice navigated from the back seat until they pulled into a crunchy gravel lot beside a proper barn.Parents wrangled kids into sitting still on carefully stacked haybales, bribing them with chocolate-dipped pretzels and hot apple cider.Neat rows of pine and fir and spruce stood as far as the eye could see.

Jay inhaled, real deep, and the almost citrusy scent of fresh-cut evergreens sank inside him.His lovers had a lemony-orange scent like that, both of them—maybe that’s how his nose had known they were for him.“This is the place.”

“Our expert has spoken.”Henry stood beside the car too, but he was smiling at Jay, not the trees.“We will place ourselves in your hands, dear boy.”

A glance at Alice, and her approving head tilt, and Jay captured Henry’s hand and strode toward the barn.Henry rubbed slight circles in Jay’s palm.The sounds here weren’t city sounds; chatter and laughter, yeah, but the singing of saws and thethunkandswishof hiking boots on a carpet of dirt and pine needles, and somewhere the hearty huffs and jingling harness of a horse.No snow yet this season—couldn’t be sleigh rides.The food stall had hot tea and plain shiny apples in addition to more sweets for him and Alice, so he left Henry in the line and kept on toward the cut-your-own sign.Alice disappeared into the crowd.

The counter was busy, three folks back behind at a time, rotating in as they returned from the field.As Jay stepped up, an older fella, not Dad’s age, but with a close-cut graying beard and a plaid hat with earflaps buttoned out of the way and the farm’s logo on the front, raised his chin in greeting.“Like the sign says”—he jerked a thumb upward—“I can bring along a chainsaw and do the cutting once you’ve made your pick, or you can borrow a handsaw and cut it yourself.Can’t let you handle the chainsaw; liability, you know.You got a sense of which you want?”

He did, and it wasn’t hanging on the back wall with the basic handsaws and bow saws.“Any chance you got a nice curved felling saw back there with a raker tooth?”

Leaning back, the older man folded his arms across his chest and grinned.“Well all right then.I like a man who knows what he’s about.S’pose you’ll want the hand axe for the face cut.”

“If you don’t mind.”This was a hell of a lot better than the pre-cut lot.Exponential, Alice would say.“We’re all about traditional this year.Looking for a nice Fraser, maybe eight-nine feet.”Had to leave room for a topper, but their beauty was gonna fill the whole front window.“You bale?We’ll be strapping it to the roof to get it home.”

“Baling’s included, sure enough, nice solid netting.”His forester slipped into a side room and came back with a well-kept felling saw and a small hand axe before leading Jay outside.“Where’ve you worked the season?We could use extra hands on the weekends, if you’re looking.”

Tempting, but he’d pass.This year was about time with Henry and Alice.Who were—ah, there, Alice apparently snapping photos with her phone and Henry toting a drink carrier with assorted goodies.Jay swung his arm over his head.“Up north.More than a few seasons.Family business, you know how it is.”

The older man snorted.“Ayup, that I do.So you were running the cider stand at seven and felling the trees by ten, hauling ’em back on a sled with the buyer’s kids.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”Going out with the customers had been the best part, though, when they weren’t champion arguers pretending to have a perfect Christmas for the kids before filing divorce papers in January.The sled runners gliding along the snow, the little kids trying to race him, the grown folks trusting his advice about which tree would suit them.Almost as good as being out on his bike the rest of the year.“No kids for the sled yet, though, so you’re safe today.”

Alice dashed up to him, her face flushed and her grin a mile wide.“Jay, they have Percherons, did you see?Just gorgeous.My aunt and uncle had a pair.They were the absolute sweetest.”

Shame there wasn’t any snow, though he’d definitely heard harnesses.“I haven’t seen, but maybe…” He raised his brows at their forester.“Wagons today?”

“Wagon if you want to ride with other folks; surrey if you want something cozier.”He dipped his head at Alice.“You’ve a fine eye, miss.”He pointed them around the side of the barn, where a driver was just leaving with a loaded wagon of families.A red open-top carriage with white trim sat waiting.“You give me a minute, and I’ll get that big gray boy harnessed.”The big gray boy was tied to a picket line, getting a friendly rubdown from a handler.“Wicked Winter’s Peppermint Balm.Wick, we call him.Gentle as can be.”

“Wick.”Alice gave a horse-crazy girl sigh.“Will the surrey fit us?We have a third—”

“And here he is, with apologies for the delay.”Henry held out the feast he’d gotten them—not just a plain tea and apple, but spiced cider, hot chocolate, an enormous cookie, and a bag of buttery popcorn.“I thought you two might enjoy a bit of everything.Have we secured what we need for this adventure?”

Jay swiped some popcorn.Good crunch.Warm, melty butter.“Tools”—he held up the saw and the axe—“and provisions, yes.Just deciding on transportation.Got a choice between our own feet or a carriage ride, and I think Alice wants to take the horse home.”

“Oh, no, the yard isn’t nearly big enough.”She hadn’t taken her eyes off the horse, though.Henry settled the cider cup in her hand, and she sipped.“Mmm, cinnamon-y.”

“Surrey’ll take all three of you, if you don’t mind close quarters.”The older man extended his hand to Henry.“Glenn.I’ll be your hauler today, though this young man says he wants to make the cut himself.”

Henry introduced himself with a firm shake.“Jay is our expert.I trust he’ll manage it brilliantly.”

They headed over to the carriage, Henry and the older man chatting while Jay trotted alongside Alice.She snapped photos of the carriage.Henry snapped photos of her with her forehead against the horse’s muzzle as she scratched under his jaw before Glenn hooked him up.Henry’s photos would become sketch references; that was easy.Alice’s photo obsession was a mystery.They climbed into the back seat of the surrey, Henry handing Alice up first and the two of them squeezing her between them, hip to hip.

Glenn clicked his tongue, and Wick set off.“Nine foot Fraser, you said?”

“Yessir, that’s the one.”He left his hand upturned on his thigh, and Alice claimed it with her own.“So what’s with all the photos?”

Henry wrapped his arm across the back of the bench seat, his fingers stretching just far enough to rest on Jay’s shoulder.“Documenting the experience?”

Alice hem-hawed with her free hand.“Some for us, but bunches for Becky.Just options to think about.”

Damn he loved this woman.She didn’t have to be so involved in helping his niece transform the family farm, but of course she’d thought of it.“She’ll love that.Nat’s right, she might lose the favorite aunt title if you keep this up.”

When they’d finally checked messages Friday, Becky had texted them a selfie out by the barn in her Kress Family Tree Farm shirt with a big old grin on her face.I don’t know what you did, Uncle Jay, and Mom’s in a mood, but Pop-pop wants me shadowing him on everything for opening weekend so I can learn the business.Thank you!Plus like thirteen emojis he hadn’t entirely deciphered.

They’d finished the cider and about half the popcorn when Glenn called awhoaand Wick jangled to a halt.Trees lined every direction.This place was heaven.“All Frasers of a proper size, this row, that one, the next three.”He gestured from the driver’s seat.“You give a holler when you’re ready to fell; I’ll be here with this good boy.”

Jay shot a sly smile at Henry before hopping down.He wasn’t about to make a joke about Henry’s good boy with Glenn there, but the twitch in Henry’s lips sent a zing of excitement down his spine anyhow.

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