Page 66 of Snowflakes at the Little Christmas Tree Farm
‘The Cinderella tree went viral on Twitter, and the council sent workmen out to decorate the big tree near the motorway. My phone’s been ringing off the hook with enquiries for next year. I’ve already signed contracts with two more shops to stock my pumpkins next October.’
‘Good. You work hard. You deserve it.’ It sounds disingenuous even though I mean it. Hedoeswork hard and he deserves success.
He looks frozen as he hovers there, and I know he’s trying to figure out what to say. There have never been awkward silences between us before. I’m being off with him, but I can’t bring myself to come out and tell him I know. He knows I’m being cold and clipped, and any other day, I’d have thrown my arms around his neck and squealed in excitement at the good news, but I don’t know what to say to him, and I was hoping to avoid him for a bit longer while I figured it out.
He looks around like he’s desperately searching for words to fill the silence, his eyes eventually settling on the bridge I was about to walk across. He takes a few steps towards it. ‘The river’s frozen solid. It’s been a long time since I saw that happen.’ He brushes snow off the bridge railings with glove-covered hands and gestures for me to come closer. ‘It’s a picture-perfect winter postcard.’
I shuffle towards him, knowing he can tell how reluctant I am. He turns to give me a soft smile, and his hood blows down which is nearly my undoing. His hair is up in a ponytail but more bits of it have blown out than remain in and the wind tangles them around his face. His ears are red from the cold, and the snow lands in flakes on his hair, and it’s so cold that they don’t even start to melt from body heat like snow usually does when it lands on you. He doesn’t bother to put the hood back up, and every part of me is screaming to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me. He looks completely dejected as he lingers, waiting for me to clue him in on what’s changed between us.
‘Do you want to give the hot chocolate machine a final test run to warm up?’ I offer against my better judgement.
‘No, because I can see how much you don’t want me to and I’m not about to push myself in where I’m not wanted. I just want you to tell me what I’ve done wrong.’
‘Noth …’ I go to tell him it’s nothing but I cut myself off because being the other bidder in the auctionisn’tnothing, but I can’t find the words to tell him what it is, and I don’t want to hear his excuses. I hate seeing him looking so hurt. I want to hug him so badly that I’ll believe anything he tells me, and I can’t fall for it again.
He shakes his head when I don’t answer. ‘I had to mess it up sooner or later. I suppose I should be grateful that it was sooner. I must’ve saved us both a lot of heartache down the road.’
‘Noel …’ I look out at the frozen river, snaking its way across the farm until it disappears under a hedge and through the empty land next door. It’s an impressive sight and looking at it is easier than trying to think of what to say to Noel.
‘Is it because I kissed you? I thought you were into it, but if I overstepped a mark or something … I’m so sorry.’
Oh god, Noel, don’t apologise for kissing me. I swallow around the lump that springs to my throat at how sincere he looks. He genuinely thinks I’m annoyed with him because of that breathtaking kiss the other night. If only it was that simple.
‘I know you’re avoiding me.’
‘I’m not avoiding you.’ My voice comes out hoarse and unstable. ‘Just busy. PreparingmyChristmas trees, formybusiness, whichIbought, forme.’
I can see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what I mean. ‘Every time I catch a glimpse of you out in the fields, by the time I’ve climbed across the hedge and come over, you’ve disappeared. I know better than anyone how easy it is to hide in these trees. I just didn’t expect you to be hiding from me.’
‘I’m not hiding from you, I’m shearing trees. There’s a matter of days until the farm opens and there’s a lot of work to be done. You taught me that.’
He nods and kicks at a drift of snow piling up around the bridge railings, his nose red in the freezing air, snowflakes settling in his dark eyebrows when he looks down. I want to tell him about potting up the tiny trees and selling them online, that I’m going to send one to Chelsea to make sure they can survive a journey, and I’m bubbling to tell him about the idea of renting Christmas trees and see if he thinks it’s something to be excited about too, and if he thinks it could be financially viable, but how can I trust anything he says?
‘Tell me what I’ve done?’ His voice breaks and I hate the way he swallows before he speaks again. ‘How can I fix it if you won’t even talk to me? Please, Lee. I thought we had something wonderful here, and something’s obviously gone horribly wrong. Don’t I even deserve to know what?’
I bristle at the words because I don’t know if he hasn’t realised what I’ve found out, or if he genuinely doesn’t comprehend that acting the way he has when he was the other bidder is not okay. ‘I don’t owe you anything,’ I snap. ‘No one asked you to do the things you’ve done for this farm. I’m sorry you won’t get any return on it now but you should’ve thought of that when you started your little scheme.’
‘What?’
We stare at each other for a few long moments, and then I jam my hands back into my pockets. ‘I have to go.’ My voice quivers as I brush past him and concentrate on getting as far away as possible, my thighs burning from the effort of pushing through the snow as I clomp further round the track, praying he doesn’t follow me.
I can’t talk to him at the moment. I’ve been constantly on the verge of tears since Friday, and I’m not strong enough tonotbelieve his excuses. After I caught Steve and realised that he’d clocked how isolated I was and used it to his own benefit, I vowed I’d never let a man see my vulnerability again, that I’d never give anyone a chance to use my weakness against me, and mere weeks later, Noel caught me crying in the car and it started all over again.
‘Leah! What are you talking about?’ he calls after me. ‘I don’t understand!’
‘Of course you don’t,’ I mutter to myself. The only thing he doesn’t understand is that I’m onto him.
I know he’s still there without turning around. I open the gate of the Norway spruce field, pushing it against the huge blockade of snow it dredges up as it opens, and go in, ducking behind the hedge and crouching down so I’m out of sight. After a few minutes, the crunch of his boots echoes through the empty farm as he walks away.
I let out a sob and the tears fall as I sink to my knees in the snow. How did it ever come to this?
I want to run after him and brush the snow out of his hair. I want to go back with him, snuggle up in front of his fire with Gizmo and put everything back the way it was before Friday afternoon. He made everything about this place better, and without him, it feels as empty and desolate as the fields look lost under the snow.
Chapter 16
It’s Wednesday when it starts to rain, but it’s not just regular rain. These are huge pounding drops that beat against the roof and hammer on the boards blocking the windows, making me feel that the house is going to cave in under its force.
The main road is running like a river as the snow turns to water, and the drifts around the house that had reached an impressive size have melted and are surrounding me like a moat. If it wasn’t for the steps, I’d have to swim out.
