Page 67 of Holly and Ivar
Holly: Only if it comes with sarcasm and patience.
Ivar: I never leave home without them.
CHRISTMAS EVE COUNTDOWN
DAYS
35
read between the pines
Holly
MimDaleypeeredatHolly over a stack of books, her glasses perched halfway down her nose.Her cardigan, purple with a sequined snowflake brooch, looked like it had been chosen for maximum whimsy.A black cat lounged across the checkout counter.
“Ah, Miss Kringle.I was so excited when you called this morning about the journals.We can set you up in the reading alcove where it’s warmest.I figured you’d like a little privacy.”
Ivar stepped inside, brushing snow from his shoulders.His hair was damp from melting flakes, and a blush of cold colored his cheeks.
Mim’s smile widened.“Well, if it isn’t our Forest Philosopher.Don’t tell me you’ve come to finally return those field guides?”
Ivar gave her a mock salute.“Eventually.”
Mim’s laugh was bright and delightful.“You’re just lucky you’re handsome enough to get away with overdue fees.Now, tell me, Miss Kringle—”
“Holly, please.”
“Yes, Holly.Tell me, are you related to the Hales, dear?”
“No,” Holly said.“I’m a bit of a local history buff.”
“Wonderful,” Mim said.“Now, Ivar, come with me.They’re still in the back.Holly dear, you make yourself at home in one of the alcoves near that large radiator.It’s the warmest place here.As soon as we get the boxes, I’ll leave you two alone.Try not to scandalize Poe.”
Poe, the cat, gave a single unimpressed blink.
When Ivar returned, he placed the boxes on the table and removed his jacket, tossing it on the chair.Holly blinked.He was wearing his park ranger uniform: dark green pants, a pressed shirt, and a badge gleaming faintly in the lamplight.Somehow, it made him look both official and wildly out of place among the dusty books and curling pages.
“I didn’t realize your vacation was over,” she said, guilt flickering across her face.“I didn’t mean to pull you away from work.”
“If saving the forest isn’t part of my job, then I’m doing something wrong.”
Her lips curved.“I suppose there’s something to be said for men in uniform.”
He raised an eyebrow.“Onlysomething?”
“Don’t push your luck, Ranger.”
Mim’s voice floated from behind the shelves.“Children, please.Some of us are still within earshot.”
Holly bit back a laugh as Ivar sat beside her.A stack of leather-bound journals waited beside them, their covers cracked, edges flaked with age, each marked with the same looping initials:C.H.
Holly traced them lightly with her finger.“Cornelius Hale.”
“Who’s that?”Ivar asked, leaning in close.
“Henry learned his name from some of the old-timers.According to Henry, some of those who leave our world are drawn to Yule veins, whether they realize it or not.He said, for some, it’s like living near a pulse, a steady rhythm, like a second heartbeat.”
Ivar tilted his head.“That’s poetic.”
