Page 41 of The Way Back Home
“In a manner of speaking. When we were kids, each of us would get a pine tree sapling to plant every spring. Dad told us that they were ours to care for and do with as we pleased. We could save some to use as our own personal Christmas trees someday or sell them to earn extra cash. The only catch was that for every tree we felled, we had to plant two more.” He spread his hand out and grinned. “So, with ten of us over the past thirty years or so, we’ve got ourselves a nice selection to choose from.”
He helped Teagan out of the sleigh and led her tohis section, the one that contained all the trees he’d planted since he had been a boy. The trees were much larger at one end, growing consistently smaller toward the other.
“Have you ever cut one down?” she asked.
“No,” he admitted. “This will be my first.”
“Why not?”
“Never had a good enough reason to, I guess.”
“So what’s changed?”
He looked at her and smiled. “Now, you’re here.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment—just a moment—warmth flooded through her. That he would share this first with her was both unexpected and humbling.
Pulling a double-bladed axe from the back of the sleigh, he said, “Go on. Pick one.”
“Me? Are you sure?”
“Positive. Find one that calls to you.”
Feeling a giddiness she refused to analyze, Teagan began walking through the trees. She carefully examined each one, giving the task the attention it deserved. Considered height, shape, fullness. It had to be perfect. Who knew if she’d ever have the chance again?
Noah waited patiently, a perpetual smile playing about his lips as he leaned against the sleigh, holding a battery-powered spotlight.
Finally, she selected one that was about seven feet high, full, and almost perfectly symmetrical. “This one,” she said proudly.
Noah nodded in approval. “That one? You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Good choice.”
He handed her the spotlight and made quick work of the tree. Once felled, they wrapped it loosely with some netting and cord and fastened it to the back of the sleigh.
Working together, they were able to maneuver the tree into Noah’s cabin, though he did the heavy lifting. The place was already warm, with a fire blazing in the hearth and boxes of lights and decorations sitting just inside the door.
“Looks like some elves came by while we were gone,” he said. “Why don’t you make us hot chocolate while I take the sleigh back to the barn?”
“I can do that,” she agreed. Bonus—it would give her a few much-needed minutes to patch up some of those cracks he’d unwittingly made in her defenses. She reminded herself that none of this meant anything. That this was just how normal people celebrated the holidays. Most importantly, that this would all be over in another day and a half.
By the time he returned with his truck and their bags, Teagan had her head on straight again and two steaming mugs of cocoa waiting.
Together, they strung lights onto the tree while they sipped the chocolate and munched on the goodies his mom had given them. When they were done, they turned off all but the tree lights and sat down to enjoy their handiwork.
The fire had burned down to glowing embers. All was quiet, except for the occasional crackle of a log andthe faint, barely audible Christmas music streaming from Noah’s phone in the background.
“It’s so beautiful,” Teagan whispered.
“Yes, it is,” Noah agreed.
Except when Teagan turned around, he wasn’t looking at the tree. He quickly averted his eyes, but not before Teagan saw him. That warmth she’d felt earlier returned, though she told herself it was the result of the hot cocoa, a full belly, and tiredness that came from travel and fresh mountain air.
He cleared his throat. “You should get some rest. You can have the bed. Let me just grab an extra blanket and pillow from the closet first.”
“Noah, wait. I’d like to sleep on the couch.”
