The Lumberjack's Yuletide Bride

by Kimberly Krey

  The problem with the outfit Maddie finally settled on—the one that lengthened her legs and flattered her figure—was that it probably didn’t look as good on her as she’d hoped while she sat in a folding chair in the auditorium among a couple hundred kids.

  She sighed, discouraged suddenly. Her big chance to talk with Bear had been in the faculty room? With her surprised face and sloppy sweats and jokes about her hogging all the doughnuts? That had been her big intro?

  Maddie was being vain; she knew that. But how many opportunities would she have to make an impression? She worked in a building full of children, sprinkled with adults, where only a few were single. And Bear, it wasn’t like she could show up at his work one day and be like, Can I buy a … some boards to make something with?

  Besides, Bear rarely worked in the lumberyard; he was running the company now.

  Principal Hadley introduced their guest, and Maddie ran her gaze over the sea of heads, making sure they were all behaving before setting her focus back on the stage.

  Bear strolled onto the scene, and suddenly Hadley looked half the size he’d appeared to be a moment ago. Bear’s physical stature was something else. And his charisma seemed to match.

  “How you all doing out there today?” Bear hollered with a wave.

  “Good!” the auditorium full of kids shouted.

  “Oh yeah? That didn’t sound like a group who’s too excited to me. Let’s see … we have a couple holidays coming up, don’t we? One where we eat a whole bunch of turkey. What’s that one called?”

  “Thanksgiving,” came the crowd. Maddie voiced her answer among them, a smile on her face and that jammed stapler banging away in her chest.

  “Then after that, let’s see … I always forget what holiday comes after the turkey one.”

  Maddie smiled as the kids responded, yelling Christmas at the top of their lungs.

  Bear spoke up again when suddenly a loud cracking noise sounded over the speaker. “Oh no,” he whispered into the mic. “Do any of you guys hear that sound?”

  The noise grew louder and louder.

  “Oh man, I better warn everyone.”

  The movie screen lit up behind him, where a large forest glowed to life, and Bear was at the foot of it. Tall trees towered beyond him, making the muscled man look as small as he’d made Hadley appear a moment ago.

  The cracking sound grew louder still.

  “Here it comes.” Bear moved a hand up to the side of his mouth and hollered, “Timber …”

  In the display behind him, one massive tree cut through the surrounding trunks and crashed with a deafening blast. Birds fled. A cloud of dust erupted. And a new spot of light shone in on the forest floor.

  “Phew, that was close,” Bear continued. “A lot of folks out there know what lumberjacks do—cut down trees. But what some of you don’t know is just how careful we have to be while we do it. Careful to protect ourselves, and careful to protect the future of the forest, because that’s important too.

  “Can I get a volunteer out there? I need one student, and one teacher.” Hands shot up faster than lightning. Pick-me-please echoed over the crowd.

  “How about I have a couple of teachers help me pick,” he said. “Let’s have … let’s see I don’t know their last names, but how about we get Kate and Cam up here?”

  Maddie would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed he hadn’t called on her, but she watched with interest as the couple headed up to the front.

  “Cam, how about you pick a student from the crowd to help us out today.”

  Cam glanced over his shoulder before speaking into the mic. “Harper Wells.”

  The crowd cheered, burying the few moans of disappointment the selection sparked. Harper was new to Cobble Creek as of last year. And just like Maddie’s little student, Callie, she’d lost her mother not long ago. But that hadn’t stopped the eleven-year-old from spreading cheer to her fifth-grade class, according to Cam.

  Maddie assumed Bear would use Kate as the teacher he’d asked for, so she settled into her chair and folded her arms across her chest, ready to watch.

  “Okay, Kate …what’s her last name, kids?”

  “Miles,” a few hollered.

  “What was that?”

  This time more kids joined in. “Miles!”

  “Got it. Mrs. Miles, would you do me the honor of selecting a teacher from the crowd to join me up here on stage?” He leaned the mic toward her.

  Kate pulled it closer to her lips. “I pick Ms. Collins.”

  The crowd cheered. Maddie didn’t bother holding back a grin. The fun part about being a first-grade teacher was that most of the kids in the school knew her, seeing that most of them had already been in her class.

  “Ms. Collins. Sounds like a mighty fine choice to me. What do you guys think?”

  They cheered again as Maddie walked along the edge of the chairs. Kate passed her at the stairs and gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Thank you!” Maddie said under her breath. “Oh, and could somebody watch the first- and second-graders for a minute?”

  Kate gave her a nod. “Now get up there.”

  Two steps more, and Maddie was on the stage, walking toward Bear Schaefer as the entire school cheered. She’d settled on the new outfit she bought over the weekend. Black, fitted pants with a chiffon blouse, the smoky gray color contrasting the black camisole she wore just beneath. The heels were her favorite part. A sleek stiletto heel, secured by leather straps around her ankles.

  She moved her focus from the floor to the crowd, and then back to Bear. He held her gaze, causing her cheeks to burn. She glanced down once more, but not before catching a playful wink.

  Gracious! Those big brown eyes. That small cleft in his chin. It was like he’d been chiseled from some rare slab of Italian rock. Fifty percent man, fifty percent marble, and 100% magnificent.

  He licked those full lips while bringing the mic to his mouth once more. “Come on over here, Ms. Maddie,” he said, wrapping a muscular arm around her back. “Would you mind telling everyone where you and I first met?”

  “That would be right here at Cobble Creek Elementary,” Maddie said.

  “Very good. Now, I know we just had Halloween over the weekend,” he said, “but we can still play a bit of dress-up. Right, Harper?” He motioned toward a spot offstage. “I have a box sitting over there. Would you mind getting it for us? You can set it right on this table here.”

  Harper lifted her chin, the stage lights illuminating an adorable splash of freckles across her cheeks. “You’ve got it,” she said, scurrying across the stage to grab the box. She carried it back with both hands and rested it onto the table.

  “Will you read what it says on that box?” Bear asked her.

  Harper tilted her head to read the large red print on the front to the cardboard box. “Lumberjack survival kit,” she announced proudly, tucking her long brown hair behind one ear.

  “Okay,” Bear said. “Sounds like we have everything we need to turn Ms. Maddie here into a real-life lumberjack. So why don’t you pull the first item out of the box?”

  With a big grin, Harper grabbed a hard hat first, and stretched to place it gently on Maddie’s head. “Don’t want to mess up her hair,” she explained.

  The crowd laughed.

  The shirt came next, red flannel of course. It was extra big—probably Bear’s size—so Maddie pulled it over her blouse and tied it at her waist.

  The next item was a pair of logger pants. “I doubt these are going to fit her,” Harper declared as she lifted them from the box.

  As Maddie pulled them up and over her slacks and shoes, Bear explained that they were so thick and heavy on purpose, designed to protect the logger’s legs, even if their chainsaw kicked back.

  “Uh-oh! Looks like Harper was right. These pants just aren’t staying up on her. Can’t have that. What do we have in the box to help her out?”

  Harper pushed past a pair of gloves and boots to pull out a strappy
thing with clips on it. Suspenders. The cute girl handed them over.

  Maddie held them up high while scrutinizing them. “How do these things go?”

  “Here you go,” Bear said. “Turn around and I’ll get you started.” She passed them on and turned her back to him, hands up, so she could grab whatever he handed over.

  He surprised her by slipping a hand over the back of her neck and bringing her hair over one shoulder. The feel of his fingers grazing her skin sent goose bumps spreading up her arms.

  “I’ll clip this right back here,” he said.

  Maddie figured he clipped the center part that goes in back.

  “Then I’ll hand this over this side.” He draped one thick strap over her shoulder. “And then this one,” he said, handing over the next.

  Maddie secured them up front and spun to face the group.

  “Atta girl,” he cheered. “Just a few more finishing touches and we’ll be good to go. Now tell me, who knows what comes next?”

  Bear was good at what he did, and he knew how to get the kids excited too.

  Once Maddie was clothed from hard hat to boot, he excused her and Harper and shifted the topic a bit. Maddie wasted no time shedding the bulky clothes backstage and scurrying barefoot back to the first- and second-graders, where she thanked Nancy for stepping in.

  She fastened the straps of her heels, listening as he talked about the importance of protecting the forest too. He explained why loggers cut down the trees they do, and why they leave certain ones alone. Next he explained how thinning in just the right places allowed future growth throughout the entire forest.

  Maddie learned a lot of things she hadn’t known before, and figured it must have been the same for the kids. But still, as he finished up and the kids gave him a big loud thank you for coming today cheer, she couldn’t hold back the growing question in her mind. Just how and when would she see Bear again?

  Chapter 6

  Bear pulled the oven door open and leaned to look in as heat poured onto his face. He surveyed the blueberry pie, paying close attention to the crust around the edge. The sweet tart aroma combined with the buttery crust made his stomach growl. “I think it’s done,” he mumbled. “What do you think?”

  Grace, Bear’s mom, came alongside him and peered into the oven as well. “Oh, it’s done, all right. Looks perfect. Go on and take it out.”

  While Bear removed the pie with a set of hot pads, his mom bustled around the brightly lit kitchen, loading a few odds and ends into the dishwasher before wiping the counter down. “We’ll need to wait for that to cool, you know?”

  “Yeah, let’s go kick back in the front room. Take a load off.” Spending time with his mom the last few days had been nice. Relaxing too.

  Max, his chocolate lab, hopped up from the floor mat and darted toward the front room at his master’s heels. Bear settled into his favorite recliner while Max sprawled along the rug beside him. “Man, I’ve missed this chair.” Bear pressed his back into the worn leather.

  “So have you gotten out in the forest yet?” Grace asked as she lowered herself onto the love seat.

  “I have. It’s awesome.” The word felt inadequate. They say painters got excited over blank canvases. Loggers, at least this one, got excited every time he laid eyes on those towering timbers.

  “You’re just like your dad that way,” she said, a small laugh coating the words.

  “Yeah, I suppose I am. It’s in a logger’s blood, I guess.”

  Grace leaned far over and flicked the switch to the fireplace. She’d gotten comfortable after house sitting all that time, he realized as she leaned toward the warmth. Max, the traitor, got onto all fours again and headed toward the heat. Once at Mom’s side, he looked back at Bear and panted.

  “Oh, I see how it is. You like her better than me now?”

  The lab looked at Grace on cue, then pressed his head against her arm until she started to rub his ears.

  “This guy knows how to get what he wants, doesn’t he?” she asked.

  Bear nodded. “Yep.”

  “You sure were fun to watch at the elementary school today,” his mom said. “I had Nancy record it for me.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.” Max rolled onto his back, his paw kicking frantically at the air as Grace scratched near his belly. “I really like the teacher you brought up there. She’s adorable.”

  Bear really liked her too. Which is why he’d had Kate—the woman who’d practically told him to ask Maddie out—pick the teacher of her choice. Of course, he could have just chosen Maddie himself, but allowing a familiar face to do so heightened the suspense for the kids. And what a great group of kids it had been. It was obvious they loved their first-grade teacher. Maddie was meant for a job like that.

  Still, her occupation did complicate things. Just how was Bear supposed to go about asking Maddie out? It wasn’t like he had her number. It’d be easier if she worked at one of the shops on Main Street, where he could stop by, make a purchase, and ask if she had plans for the night.

  The topic had him thinking back on his dilemma with the Grandy family. The day after he’d returned home, Kristen had sent him a kissy-face photo with the words miss you already across the top.

  “I’m kind of worried about things with Kristen,” he blurted.

  Grace’s eyes widened in question. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. That woman is like the queen of hot and cold. While we were traveling she would go from forwardly kissing me one minute to completely ignoring me the next.” He turned his gaze to the ceiling. “As lonely as I was, I didn’t mind getting close to her. In fact, when things were good, I actually found myself thinking we could make something work long-term.”

  “But you don’t feel that way anymore?” Grace asked.

  He sighed. “I think Kristen only likes me when she can control me.” He pulled his eyes off the ceiling and set them back to his mom. “And I don’t like to be controlled.”

  Grace gave him a knowing smile. “You never have liked that. You know, you two have a few things in common—your fathers being business partners as long as they were. But you don’t want to mistake that … nostalgia for love.”

  “Nostalgia?”

  She shrugged, then wiped a tear Bear hadn’t even seen coming. “We don’t want to long for things we had when Dad was alive, just because things were better when he was alive, you know?”

  He gave her a wordless nod.

  “I find myself doing that sometimes. Like green beans.” She let out a small chuckle and tucked her feet beneath her on the couch. “I grew green beans the first, maybe ten years of our marriage. It was a lot of work, with as many as I’d plant. And it always had to be done sooner than the rest of the garden. I didn’t like that, so eventually I started buying them at the market. And I’d be darned if they weren’t just as sweet, being local and all. You guys didn’t even know the difference.

  “But life goes on, years later your dad dies, and suddenly last spring I sit up in bed and think, I liked growing my own beans. Why don’t I do that anymore? I remembered sitting next to your dad as he watched his games. Snapping the ends off the beans while he cheered about this or ranted about that. And as you got a little older you’d help me.”

  “Yeah,” Bear said. “I remember that.”

  “See? Good. So you know what I mean. It’s a good memory. I liked that time. So I got out there in the early spring and wrestled with way-too-wet-and-cold soil for my liking, thinking it was going to pay off because I liked it so much.” She shook her head. “Didn’t take me long to realize that I didn’t miss the beans. I didn’t miss snapping the beans either. I missed snapping them next to your father.” She brought a hand to her face as the tears won over.

  Bear lowered his chair and quickly moved to the small couch. “Scoot on over, Max,” he grumbled, sliding the dog’s long, lean body toward the far end. He sunk in beside his mom, pulled her in for a hug, and held her as she wept. “That ma
kes a lot of sense, Mom,” he said. “It really does.”

  “I have to say, with a man who knew how to love as much as your dad did, you’d think his heart would have beat strong forever.”

  Bear nodded, his own heart still aching for their loss. “You’re right.”

  “I’m sorry,” Grace said with another sniff. “We got off track. We were talking about whether or not you see a future with Kristen.”

  He considered the story his mom shared, nodding as it shed light on the situation. “What you said about nostalgia, that helps me see why I overlooked so many things about her. It explains why the feelings I have for her are less like love and more like … obligation.”

  But there was another reason he felt obligated. An obligation that bordered on fear. It involved the business side of things, and Bear had done his best not to think about it.

  “Remember how James Grandy told me, shortly after Dad died, that he was considering selling me two percent of the business so that I’d be the chief owner?”

  “Yes,” Grace said. “Of course I remember.”

  A tight knot burned in his chest as Bear considered speaking his concerns aloud. “I worry that Kristen’s going to mess that up. Not because she wants the business for herself; she’s already said that she doesn’t. But I think she’d retaliate if I upset her.” The knot was in his throat now, threatening to close it off completely.

  “Hmm.” His mom seemed to consider that. “So you think that if you don’t play nice with Kristen, keep her happy, so to speak, you’ll jeopardize your position in the company.”

  “Yes. And before this I worried she’d mess things up regarding the bill.” He cleared his throat, hoping to create more room to breathe. “Kristen doesn’t see a future with me either, I’m sure of it. But I think she likes publically staking her claim on me. I worry that if I date someone else without talking to her, she’ll freak out. Yet if I try clearing things up between her and I first, she’ll get offended. Either way, I picture her lashing out somehow.”