Page 40 of Pucking Christmas Triplets Surprise

I chuckle and glance at Josie, who raises her eyebrows, nods in agreement and winks at me. “She has a good eye.”

“Alright, alright,” I say, kneeling down in front of the tree and positioning my saw in my hands. “Let’s get to work, then.”

Abby bounces in place next to Josie, and she cups her mouth shouting. “Get it baby, show me those muscles.”

“Watch and learn, baby,” I say, flashing a grin at Josie. Her eyes light up, and she stands a few feet back, bundled up in her coat with her cheeks flushed bright pink from the cold. Abby stands behind her, recording on her phone.

“Come on, Uncle Chris, don’t embarrass me on live!” Abby giggles.

The chainsaw roars to life under my grip, the engine’s growl cutting through the crisp, pine-scented air.

Josie shouts something over the noise, and even though I can’t make out her words, her laughter rings clear, making me feel like I could take down a forest of trees if it meant hearing that laugh again.

“Here we go,” I mutter, as I set the chainsaw to the trunk, the blade biting deep into the wood with a satisfying crunch. The vibrations pulse through my hands, andthe tree shudders slightly. Sawdust sprays out, swirling in the winter sunlight like tiny golden flecks, dusting my wool coat and jeans.

Josie’s cheering gets louder. “Come on, you’ve got this!” she shouts, clapping her gloved hands together. I chuckle, stealing a quick glance over my shoulder. Her eyes are sparkling, her smile wide, and Abby bounces up and down, whispering in Josie’s ear.

The tree starts to lean, groaning under the pressure, the sound echoing through the quiet woods. “Timber!” I call out, drawing out the word dramatically. The tree lands with a soft, muffled thud against the snow-covered ground. I kill the chainsaw and wipe my brow, the smile still plastered on my face.

Abby jumps back, as she talks to the camera with a proud smile. “And that guys, gals and pals is how the NHL’s best Uncle cuts down a tree.”

Josie rushes over, her boots crunching over the snow, and throws her arms around me, giddy and beaming. “Who knew chopping down trees could be so sexy? Maybe we should make this a tradition.” She purrs.

I raise an eyebrow, letting out a low chuckle as I slide my hands around her waist, pulling her closer, so my lips are just inches from hers. “Only if you promise to cheer me on in that snowsuit every year,” I tease, giving her a once-over.

She laughs, rubbing her body against me. “This snowsuit?”

“Or nothing,” I tilt my head, nodding yes when?—

Josie suddenly gasps, her smile faltering, and her body tenses. She clutches her abdomen, her eyes widening in shock. “Oh my- agh.”

Panic spikes through me. “Josie?” My hands fly to her shoulders, trying to steady her as she doubles over slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Her face pales, and she looks up at me, fear clouding her expression. “Chris, something’s not right,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

Then she looks down, and we both notice it—the dark, crimson stain blooming on the inside of her thigh, seeping through her snowsuit. Josie’s eyes fill with horror, her voice faltering.

“Uncle Chris?” Abby asks, her voice cracking.

“Oh god,” she whispers, panic setting in. Her hand hovers over the blood, her lips trembling. “Chris… there’s blood.”

“Abby, call 911.” I direct, my mind running blank as I zero in on Josie. “Tell them we are on our way to the nearest hospital.”

Scooping her up into my arms, I cradle her close, her body shaking against mine. Abby’s eyes are wide and wet with tears, her voice small and scared as she pointed at Josie’s side.

“Stay close, Abby. We’re heading to the car.” I break into a full sprint, trudging through the snow.

Josie buries her face in my chest, clutching my jacket. I can feel the tension in her body, the fear radiating off her, and my throat tight. “I’ve got you, Josie,” I whisper. “Just hold on. We’ll get there.”

Once we make it to the car, I slide Josie into the passenger’s seat. Sweat prickles along her forehead as she groans in and out of pain. I buckle her seat belt , running tothe other side just as Abby catches up and jumps into the backseat, informing the operator that we are on our way to hospital.

“Uncle, how far away are we?” Abby asks.

I slide into the front seat, barely closing the door as I peel out of the driveway. “Ten minutes.” Josie groans, curling into a ball on the passenger seat, and I growl, calling back to Abby. “Make it five.”

The drive to the hospital is a blur of car horns, moans of pain from Josie, the babble of Abby to the operator, and the continuous sludge of the snow under the tires. I keep saying things like hold on, I love you, and please. Please what? I don’t know, but I am gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles are turning white.

When we arrive at the ER, I park haphazardly, scooping Josie in my arms and running into the hospital with a crying Abby behind me. I enter the double doors, screaming at the top of my lungs.“Help! Help!”

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