Page 47 of Snowflakes at the Little Christmas Tree Farm
Even to me, it’s easy to see which one is the best growing tip. I don’t need the support, but his hands splay across my back as I lean up with one knife to hold the top sprig aside, and I bring the other knife up to slash the smaller ones away.
‘Yeah!’ He lets out a whoop. ‘Congratulations, you’ve successfully pruned your first tree!’
I cheer too and turn around in his embrace, expecting him to move, but he doesn’t and his lips areright therein front of mine. I feel him swallow and his arms tighten around me. ‘See, it’s easy really.’
I’m starting to think that running a marathon might be easy if I had his arms around me. And that I might agree to something that crazy if his cologne blocked out all my other senses.
I feel completely lost in his arms. Our mouths are barely a breath away from touching, and when he wets his lips with his tongue, we’re so close that I can feel the heat from it. His stubble is rough against my face, his hair tickling my neck, and his hands tighten where they’re still holding onto mine, and we stand still, neither of us daring to move for a long few seconds.
He suddenly swivels his head towards the tree, his chin pressing so tightly against my shoulder than I can feel the little cleft in it. ‘Only another 5999 to go.’
His words are abrupt, and I expect him to do his usual thing of jumping away and putting as much distance between us as possible, so I’m surprised when he doesn’t move. Instead, he stays where he is, his arms around me from behind so I’m sort of leaning back against him. There’s a giant knife somewhere that we shouldn’t lose track of, but none of it seems to matter as I stand here in his arms looking at the tree we’ve sheared together.
He rests the side of his head against mine and Iknowhe’s lingering this time, and I wonder if he really needed to show me that way or if he wanted an excuse to stand close. It makes another shiver go through me as I try not to think about what it means if he does.
Like he can sense what I’m thinking, this time he jumps and takes a step back. ‘Sorry. Trees release pheromones when they’re cut, I think they’re getting to me.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ I murmur. Because I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking in getting this close to Noel or wanting to kiss himquitethis badly. Thelastthing I need at the moment is a relationship, particularly with someone who so plainly isn’t interested either.
‘Go on then, try one,’ he says before I can think anything else about it.
I shuffle over to the next tree and he comes close again, lifting my hand and positioning the knife in the right place before stepping back. Somehow I force myself to think about what I’m doing instead of how close he is. I feel the weight of the knife, hold it up and look along it to judge the angle. This time when I swish the knife down, I actually manage to lop a few branches off, and after a couple of strokes, the tree starts to look better for it, and I can kind of work out what needs to be trimmed and what doesn’t, and I manage not to cause any injuries to myself or the shin pads.
I also notice with a bit of smug glee that Noel has stopped laughing now, andThe Princess Bridepirate references have dried up. He watches silently as I slice branches off all the way around. When I lop the top off the growing tip, I turn and do a bow with the knife, grinning at him, but I nearly overbalance and narrowly miss impaling myself.
I can tell he’s trying not to smile as he walks around inspecting the tree, stroking his chin with his fingers, giving it the severe deliberation of grading an exam, and I suddenly feel ridiculously nervous.
It’s not perfect. I’ve taken a couple of chunks out and been a bit overzealous with trimming the top leader, and it’s taken me ages despite only being a small tree, whereas Noel does even the eight-footers in thirty seconds flat, but it’s better than I thought I could do this morning, and I feel positive about it, like it’s something I can learn and get better at. And I have alotof trees to practice on.
Eventually Noel reappears from behind the tree and I can tell he’s struggling to keep a straight face – but he gives up far too easily and a smile spreads, making his eyes dance. ‘This is good. You should’ve seen the first one I ever did. It looked like the lovechild ofSpongebob SquarepantsandPeppa Pighad been in a terrible accident.’
I try not to show how happy his verdict makes me. I don’t need his approval, but his smile and the way he looks genuinely proud makes it impossible not to grin.
Maybe I am cut out for this after all.
Chapter 11
‘Nice, tight wiring. Now place another bunch just below so it overlaps, and wrap the wire around three times to hold it in place.’ Glenna nods in approval at my wreath-making skills or lack thereof. ‘You’ve got it.’
I don’t feel like I’ve got it at all, but I understand her instructions and can see how the wreath will take shape. It’s too early to make fresh wreaths and garlands for sale yet, so I’m practising with a pile of shearing offcuts, the overgrown tops of the holly hedges, sprigs of berries, pinecones, and some ferns that were growing wild. I’m pulling them all together in little bunches and tying them to the metal wreath ring with floral wire, alternately tilting each bunch inwards and outwards so it fills the ring and maintains a nice round shape.
Glenna is an absolute expert wreath-maker. Noel sells the autumn wreaths she makes at the market, and they are so incredible that you think they must be artificial, but they’re not – she’s just that good. They’re laden with orange, yellow, red, and brown leaves, which I see her out gathering around the farm every morning. She’s got cinnamon sticks, pinecones, the crisp orange cases of Physalis lanterns, twigs of Alder cones, bunches of winged sycamore seeds, and miniature pumpkins and apples, and they practically fly off the stall even though they’re one of the most expensive things Noel sells.
She whizzes through a festive one with my supplies and finishes it off with a big red bow from a spool of ribbon she brought over.
‘Wow.’ I don’t try to hide how impressed I am as I get my own wire tangled and snap a fir branch by mistake.
‘You’ll get there with a bit more practice, flower. You’re already getting the hang of it.’ She reaches down to stroke Gizmo who’s pottering around our feet in the barn. ‘You’re a natural. You chose all these greens, and even thought of the ferns. I wouldn’t have thought of using them but they work well.’
I blush even though I don’t believe her.
I was lucky to find one of Mr Evergreene’s old stone outbuildings contained nothing but Christmas decorations. Boxes of outdoor lights, tinsel, now-faded festive signs, and tons and tons of supplies, from a box full of wreath rings and wire, to elf hats, bags of jingling bells, boxes of baubles, and hanging snowflakes. It was like everything I’ve thought of to make this place better was already there waiting for me, in the building with the least leaky roof.
‘If I can make enough of these, I could display them on my fence that runs alongside the road, it’d be a great way to show them off.’ I tie my last little bundle of greenery onto the ring and poke the ends underneath the brush of the first bundle to hide them, then I get a bunch of holly berries and slot that in too. I check my watch to see how long it’s taken me.
‘The trick is always to work in the same direction around the wreath so it becomes a habit,’ Glenna says when she sees the face I make because it’s taken me far too long. ‘Pretty soon you’ll be able to do it with your eyes shut. Lots of tree farmers find things like wreaths and garlands are actually more profitable than the trees themselves, because it doesn’t take much time to make them, and you’re using the bits you’ve already cut from around the farm anyway. It’s a great sideline, and displaying them along the fence is bound to attract people driving past with their kids. Lots of Noel’s trade comes from people driving by with little kids in the car and their faces light up at the sight of all those pumpkins and they beg their parents to go in because it’s such a magical sight.’
I make a bow from Glenna’s ribbon, tie three bells together and wire them all onto the bottom of the wreath.
