Page 60 of Holly and Ivar
“Hang in there, Hol.I’ll do my best.”
Holly set her phone on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling, one word filling the room as if it were a ghost.Guardian.
She reached for her broom.“Did you know this?”Of course, it remained still.“You’re supposed to be guiding me… so guide.How do I tell Ivar he’s a Guardian?”Snow drifted lazily past the window, catching the light of the streetlamps.Beyond them, the forest lay still and dark, a sleeping giant beneath the stars.
The thought of Ivar out there—his steady presence, his quiet reverence for every tree, every ripple of wind—sent a pang through her chest.Of course the magic would choose him.
Her phone buzzed.A new message from Ivar.She smiled despite her worries.
Ivar: You awake, Kringle?
Holly: Maybe.Why?
Ivar: I’m prepping for the Tree Hunt.You bringing your broom?
Holly: Only if I can use it to knock you off your sled.
Ivar: See, that’s the Christmas spirit.Get some sleep.You’ll need it.
Holly: You too, Ranger.
She set the phone down again, her smile fading into thought.
Tomorrow, they’d search for the Winterwood Christmas tree.And she’d have to decide if she was ready to tell him the truth—that the tree he’d been searching for all his life might have been searching forhimtoo.
CHRISTMAS EVE COUNTDOWN
DAYS
32
tree-mendous fun
Ivar
TheannualWinterwoodTreeHunt was one of those events the whole town turned out for.Except Ivar.He’d always found an excuse to skip it, though he didn’t mind helping later when it came time to haul the chosen tree back to the square.Participating, though?That had never been his thing.
But this year was different.Having Holly by his side changed that.
From their spot in the crowd, he watched Emma climb onto a pickup bed, clipboard in hand, her red hat bobbing like a cherry against the gray sky.“All right, folks!”she called from above the crowd, her voice carrying easily over the chatter.“This year, we’re shaking things up.No more same-old teams.You’ll be paired at random!”
A chorus of groans rolled through the crowd, followed by laughter.
“That’s right,” Emma went on.“It’s time to make new friends—or new enemies, depending on who steals the saw.”
Beside him, Tess elbowed his arm.“You just don’t want to get paired with me.I cut trees like they owe me money.”
“Remind me not to run up my bar tab,” Eli said dryly from behind her.
Tess grinned.“You got that right.”
Names were drawn from Emma’s basket, with each pair met with cheers or mock groans.“Eli Brennan and Tess Callahan!”Emma read.“Try not to burn down the forest, you two.”
“Can’t make promises!”Tess called back.
Next came “Marty Callahan and George Keating!”
George tipped his cap.“I’ll keep him from writing poetry about the tree, don’t worry.”
