Page 8 of A Christmas Spark
“Can’t argue with that.” Lincoln returned her smile, leaning against the table. “Well, I suppose I should let you get to your dinner. I don’t want to keep you any longer than I already have.”
“I’m the one who kept you,” Imogen said apologetically. “But I’ll see you around. Next week for the delivery, if nothing else.”
Imogen glanced over at Vanessa, who was leaning against the wall, waiting patiently. She didn’t want to keep them from their dinner any longer, but she also couldn’t help wishing she could linger. Talking to Lincoln had a way of reminding her why, all those years ago, she had loved being his girlfriend. Why she’d missed him so much, when they’d gone their separate ways. He had a way of making her feel like she was the only person on earth during a conversation, and it was addictive, especiallywhen she felt like she spent so much of her days catering to what everyone else wanted and needed.
They all said their farewells, and Imogen and Vanessa headed back out to the car. “I think you were blushing while you were chatting with Lincoln,” Vanessa teased as they slid into the car, and Imogen felt her face turn even redder than before, heat crawling up her neck despite the chill of the evening.
“It was just cold in there by the ice rink,” she said defensively, and Vanessa chuckled.
“I don’t know. You two looked awfully cozy talking to each other. And he wasn’t paying attention to anything but you. I think it was something more than that.”
“We need to hurry up and get to the restaurant,” Imogen said quickly, changing the subject. “I’m starving.”
“I’m hungry too,” Vanessa agreed, letting it go, to Imogen’s relief. “Maybe I’ll try that special Lincoln mentioned. That sounded good.”
“It did,” Imogen agreed, but her mind was still lingering on Lincoln himself. Hehadseemed happy to wait around for her, and to get the chance to talk to her. He definitely hadn’t been in any hurry to leave.
He’s just trying to keep things cordial,Imogen told herself, as they drove toward the tavern. There was no reason to think it was anything other than that. He just wanted to support her business, and make sure that there were no hard feelings between them.
After all, he’d always been the most decent, most polite guy she’d ever known.
CHAPTER SIX
During a lull in business on Tuesday morning, George decided to head over to the Fir Tree Grove General Store to grab some supplies. One of the strings of Christmas lights that he had hanging on the front desk had gone out, and he needed a few ancillary things—receipt paper and a few items like that. With no pickups on the schedule for at least an hour, he’d hung hisClosedsign up and taken the truck over to the General Store to grab what he needed.
It was a bright wintry day, the kind that he enjoyed best for walking through the farm to show customers to their tree for pickup. The sun glinted off of the hard-packed snow, and there was a crisp bite to the air, without any wind to make it uncomfortably cold. He even left his window down just a crack as he drove, to let a bit of that good-smelling crisp air in.
The general store was buzzing with customers when he walked in. Christmas lights were hung from every available surface, twinkling merrily, and two trees were set up—one large one next to the door and in front of the large window that overlooked the parking lot, and another small, tabletop-sized one on the counter next to the cash register. An entire section of the general store had been set up specifically for Christmas items—decor items like ribbon and lights and faux garlands, as well as ornaments and smaller Christmas decorations like Santas and felt reindeer.
As he headed over to look at the Christmas lights, he saw Nolan McCoy standing by a shelf of candles and kerosene oil. The town’s postman was wearing his usual off-duty uniform of a worn flannel shirt in red and black and a pair of beat-up jeans with boots, and he raised a hand in greeting to George as George walked past.
“Hey there, Mr. Lowery,” he said with a smile, and George nodded, raising a hand in greeting as well.
“How are things, Nolan?” George asked, giving the man a brief smile.
“Oh, they’re fine. Just stocking up on some odds and ends.” Nolan held up a pack of flameless candles. “Just in case of winter storms, that kind of thing.”
George nodded. “I should probably get a few things like that myself. Speaking of—are you still selling firewood?”
For years, Nolan had made a part-time job of chopping firewood and selling it to the townsfolk of Fir Tree Grove. He’d often joked that in addition to supplementing what the post office paid him, it kept him in shape. He and George had had a joke for years about George purchasing firewood from him—after all, George had an entire tree farm of his own, albeit trees for decorating, not for using as firewood.
“Sure am.” Nolan tossed the pack of candles into his basket. “Busy time of year, but I can set a couple cords aside for you if you need ‘em.”
“I could definitely use it. That wood stove in the office that I keep running all day this time of year has been eating it up.”
Nolan chuckled. “Just another reason to look forward to the holiday season being over, I’d think. Less need to burn up woodjust to keep folks feeling warm and festive while they pick up their trees.”
George chuckled gruffly. “One of these days you’ll catch the Christmas spirit, son.”
Nolan shook his head, grinning ruefully. “No, I don’t think I will,” he said with a laugh. “But I’m happy to still sell you some firewood. When would be a good time to come by, do you think?”
“I’ve got a pretty busy rest of the day, but I could probably stop by sometime after the last pickup. Maybe an hour after sunset or so?” George suggested. “I’ll even bring by a couple of beers, and we can have a drink while we get it loaded up.”
“Sounds good.” Nolan tossed another pack of candles into his basket. “See you then,” he added, waving a goodbye as he headed toward the counter to check out.
George gave Nolan a smile and a wave as he headed to finish the rest of his shopping. He liked Nolan well enough, even if the guy didn’t have the same Christmas spirit as the rest of the town. It was understandable, and it wasn’t as if he did anything to damper anyone else’s enjoyment of the holiday. It just didn’t bring Nolan joy, like it did the other residents of Fir Tree Grove.
He headed down the aisle with the Christmas lights, looking through the spools until he found a multicolored one that looked similar to what he already had hanging up. With that in hand, he moved on to the next item of business: grabbing some fresh pens and a couple of notebooks for the office.
