Page 24 of Whiskey Kisses For the Mountain Man
Two days. He walked out of my cabin two nights ago, and I have not seen or heard from him since. I’ve woken up at dawn and watched my kitchen window both days, hoping for a glimpse. Nothing. I haven’t even seen his lights go on at night.
Where has he been?
With or without him, we have less than three weeks to pull off this festival. The most important element I proposed when I got the job was starting a new tradition, a tree lighting ceremony, where families far and wide can gather around and marvel at its magic.
Typically, these trees need to be secured the year before, but luckily, Harold from Montgomery Tree Farm has a stunning forty-nine-foot tree. Almost as tall as Chicago’s last year. Not so lucky, I’m not the only one who wants it.
I close my eyes and take a slow, deep breath. Opening them, I smile at the driver who glances at me from his rearview.I’m Lettie Donovan, Christmas Queen. This is what I do. That tree is mine.
An hour later, we pull into two towering gates that open at our arrival.
Impressive.
Even with the car windows sealed, the scent of pine seeps through, and it’s heavenly. I tip my driver and walk over to the older man, whom I presume to be Harold.
“Miss Donovan,” he steps down his steps, arm stretched out. “Welcome to Montgomery Tree Farm.” I shake his hand.
“Merry morning, Mr. Montgomery.”
“Harold, please,” he insists, smiling kindly, his sun-kissed skin weathered from outdoor labor.
“Then, please call me, Lettie.” I smile, turning to see the tall evergreen and pine trees kiss the hazy blue sky. “This is magnificent. My-lanta, I could live in that scent.” I deeply inhale the mix of sap, tree, and cool, crisp December air.
I face Harold, my body tingling with excitement. “Well, Harold, I’m here to see about a tree.”
Laughing, he nods. “Right this way, Lettie. I think I’ve got just the one.”
Harold walks me through the highlights of his beautiful tree farm that’s been in his family for three generations. It’s a Christmas wonderland and I’m in love. Wrap me up in red and white, park me by a fire with a book facing a window looking out at the trees, and mark me as settled. I’d never leave.
The tree? Even more tinsel-rific than in the pictures.
“Harold. It’s perfect.”
He gazes up at the towering pine, contemplative. “We almost lost it last year to rot, but found it in time to get her thriving again.”
“She’s a survivor. I love that,” I beam at Harold. “Just like Eden Ridge, a strong town elevated by history and generations of families. Even through adversity, Eden Ridge stands tall, shining bright in the mountains of Oregon. What better home for her than there?”
Harold fights a grin. “A most outstanding sales pitch, Lettie. Unfortunately, we have one other town and rep eager to have her for their town.”
“Silver Lakes. Yes, I saw them on the auction roster. Whatever they’re offering, we’ll match and then some. Silver Lakes is a charming coastal town, and while your tree would look stunning anywhere, Eden Ridge not only will feature her to rival the stars this Christmas, but with a reputable Lumbar establishment and top sustainable engineer residing, we willrepurpose her in the New Year in marvelous ways. We’ll also ensure any piece created is stamped with the Montgomery logo.”
At least, that’s the plan. I still have to run it by the Hunters.
I have him intrigued and even impressed. Eden Ridge needs this tree, but so do I. Everyone back home and my previous followers are waiting to watch me fail. Trent has them believing all my previous successes are due to his influence when I was the one who worked my butt off building my career. He garnered twenty percent more followers when we began dating.
I don’t want to think about him. I brighten my smile and hope my eyes twinkle.
“This is unorthodox, but we did promise an auction. Let’s finalize paperwork on that, and I’ll make my decision by the end of the week. You will hear from me then.”
I keep my smile from deflating. It’s not a no. But I need a better guarantee.
“But,” Harold leans in, “between you and me, Eden Ridge sounds like a special place.” He winks. “I’ll be right back with the paperwork.”
As Harold walks off to the main building, I hold my body very still, refraining from squealing and jumping up and down. That most definitely sounded like an almost guarantee.
Let’s push the needle more in our favor, shall we?
I set up my phone on the foldable tripod. Once I have the shot of the tree behind me, I tap for the countdown to begin.
