by Kait Nolan
Her little brother had a deep and abiding hatred of the fake Christmas tree they’d had the year before. Tara had found it in the attic and done what she could to nurse the Charlie Brown tree into something festive, but even her artistic skills had been challenged by that.
“You’re absolutely right. Which is why are aren’t going to use the ugly fake tree.”
“So we’re not having a tree?” Ginny’s lip wobbled.
“We’re not having a fake tree,” Tara corrected. “This year we’re going to get a real one.”
Austin finally looked up at that, a fleeting expression of hope on his face before he shut down again. “We can’t afford a real tree. They’re a waste of money.”
Hearing what she knew were their father’s words falling out of his mouth, Tara felt a fresh wave of rage whip through her. He hadn’t done right by these kids. Not ever. When she was sure she could speak without swearing, she said, “Well, whether they’re a waste or not is a matter of opinion. But as it happens we’re doing okay this Christmas, and we’re going to have a real tree.”
“Won’t all the lots be picked over? It’s only two weeks to Christmas.”
“Probably. That’s why we’re going out to Applewhite Farms to cut a fresh one ourselves.” It was so much more expensive, but by damn, she was going to give them some good Christmas memories.
“Really?” Ginny’s eyes got even rounder. “I’ve heard stories about that place. Becca says they have hot chocolate and horses and lights and everything!”
“Well, I don’t know if they’ll have lights and stuff during the day, but I’m sure they’ll have something. And it’ll be fun to walk the fields and pick our very own tree. What do you say?”
“Yay!”
She patted Ginny on the rump. “Go get dressed. Both of you. If we get the tree this morning, we can spend the afternoon making more ornaments.”
Her sister bolted down the hall to her bedroom.
Tara looked back at her brother. “Austin? You up for the whole cutting a live tree experience?”
“That could be cool.”
An almost positive statement. Tara would take it.
~*~
Jace loved quiet mornings on the farm. Other times of year, when it was the apple or pecan groves that were their bread and butter, mornings meant work. But when it came time for Christmas, the Fraser Firs and Scotch Pines were far less demanding. After four, they’d have steady traffic the rest of the night as the last minute folks came in search of a tree. But for now, it was just him and the trees. Livia had already gone in to work at the library where she ran the children’s program. Dad had headed to the Co-op to pick up a part for the tractor, and Mom was puttering around in the kitchen, baking up cookies for the legion of people she gifted them to for the holidays.
He was working on his second cup of coffee when the little SUV came up the drive. They weren’t officially open until this afternoon, but not everybody knew that. The driver slowed near the house, then pulled to a stop over near the main barn. The driver’s side door opened and one long leg stretched out, followed by the rest of a tall blonde. She opened the rear passenger door and a little girl tumbled out, vibrating with excitement. The blonde took her hand as an older boy climbed out of the front seat. It was just one little family. He could deal with that. Jace stepped down from the porch and headed over.
“Mornin’,” he called.
The blonde turned and he was delighted to meet the gorgeous hazel eyes of his coffeeshop crush. “Jace.”
“Hey Tara.” In the week he’d been home, he’d gone in to The Grind for coffee almost every day. Enough that she recognized him now, even if he hadn’t gotten any further than giving her his name.
“I didn’t know you worked out here.”
Translation: I didn’t come looking for you, so don’t start up with that flirting again.
He repressed a smile. “Comes with the last name.”
“Which is?”
“Applewhite. This is my family’s farm.”
“You’re related to Livia. Or Jessie?”
Small town. Of course she knew them. “Both. Liv’s my sister. Jessie’s my cousin.”
“Oh.” She seemed to cast around for something else to say. “We came for a tree.”
Jace looked up at the clear blue sky. “It’s a fine morning for it. And you’ll have the place to yourselves since it’s not Saturday.”
Tara startled. “It’s not?”
“Nope. Friday.”
She shot a Look at the little girl. “Ginny.”
The little girl grinned like an imp. “What?”
“You said it was Saturday! And you didn’t contradict her,” she said to the boy.
He shrugged. “It’s nothin’ but stupid parties at school today. We’re not missing anything important.”
Something flickered over Tara’s face. Distress? Some kind of understanding? Jace wondered what was going through her head.
“Well then, I guess we’re playing hookey today.” She turned back to him. “But you’re not open until four. I’m sorry. I’ve been running around all morning thinking it’s Saturday.”
“It’s not a problem,” Jace assured her. “You’re already here. Might as well pick a tree.”
Ginny bounced. “It’s our first real tree ever! We have to pick the best one!”
“First one, huh?” He looked to Tara. “You in a hurry?”
“No, I don’t suppose so. I need to call in to work, though.”
“In that case, y’all should have the first timer’s special. Come on into the barn out of the cold and make your call, while I get things set up.” Without waiting for agreement, he went on inside.
Ginny’s eyes got huge when he led Pepper out of the stall. “Ohmygod. It’s a horse!”
“This is Pepper. She helps pull the wagon for our hayrides.” The chestnut mare bumped her nose at his jacket where she knew he had some carrots. Jace scratched between her ears. “Want to feed her?”
“Can I really?” Ginny whispered.
“If it’s okay with your sister.”
Tara, who’d just finished her call, looked sharply in his direction.
Jace pretended not to notice.
“Be careful,” she said.
He showed Ginny how to hold her hand flat and placed a piece of carrot on her little palm. She giggled as Pepper carefully picked it up. “Her whiskers tickle. Austin, you gotta try this!”
“You can treat Rupert. We have to be fair or I’ll hear about it.”
Rupert stuck his head over the stall and nickered.
“See?”
Jace led the gelding out as well and tied him to a ring mounted on the wall. He repeated the demonstration for how Austin should hold his hand and handed over a piece of carrot. Some of the apathy slipped from the boy’s expression as Rupert mouthed up his treat. He ran a hand down the horse’s glossy brown coat.
“Austin, you want to help me carry the harnesses?”
“Sure.”
As he went through the process of getting both horses hitched to the wagon, Jace was aware of Tara watching him. But he kept his attention on the kids, the animals. She didn’t want flirtation; he’d try another tactic. Besides, he got a kick out of Ginny’s enthusiasm. He lifted her in to the wagon bed. “Up we go.”
Austin climbed in himself.
Jace turned to Tara. “You want to ride in the back or up front with me?”
“I don’t much fancy hay poking me in the behind, so I’ll take the seat.”
He leapt up and held out a hand for her. After a moment’s hesitation, she took it, seeming to flow almost like water as he pulled her. For a couple of long seconds they stood a handspan apart. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than him, and he was very aware that it’d take almost no effort to close the distance between them. He was also aware of her two younger siblings less than five feet away, so though he wanted to linger, Jace released her as soon as she was steady.
H
is mother came out on the porch as he gathered up the reins and clucked at the horses to head out. She lifted one hand in a wave. There would be questions later, but he’d endure them. It was worth it for the excited stream of questions and chatter from Ginny and the unguarded look of pleasure Tara beamed over her shoulder at the kids.
“Dashing through the snow.”
Beside him, Tara startled when he began to sing.
“On a one horse open sleigh. Ginny?”
“Over the fields we go, laughing all the way! Ha ha ha!” she shouted, joining in with more enthusiasm than correct pitch.
“Bells on bobtail ring.”
Tara jumped in. “Making spirits bright.”
“What fun it is to laugh and sing a sleighing song tonight.”
They picked up Austin on the chorus and the four of them belted good cheer into the late morning air, startling some birds from the trees in the apple orchard as they rolled through. A rendition of “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer” got them to the edge of the fir trees.
Jace drove the horses down the center lane before pulling them to a halt. “Now we walk.”
Tara leapt down before he could help her, but Ginny waited, arms outstretched for him to lift her down.
“How tall are your ceilings?” Jace asked.
“Just the standard eight feet.”
He pulled one of their premarked measuring sticks and handed it over to Austin.
“What’s this for?”
“See this mark? That’s seven feet. In a stand, that’s about as tall as you can go with your ceilings. You hold this next to the trees to check and see if they’ll fit.”
“Okay. C’mon, Ginny!”
The pair of them scampered down the row, Ginny launching into an off-key rendition of “Frosty The Snowman”.
“She hasn’t quite mastered the difference between singing and shouting,” Tara said. “They’re loving this. Thank you.”
Jace retrieved the axe and headed after them, Tara falling into step beside him. “You’re more than welcome. There’s hot apple cider when we get back. Made from our own apples.”
“Oh, you don’t have to go to any trouble.”
“No trouble. Just part of the package. You brought them out here for the whole live tree experience, right?”
Again, something flickered over her face. “Yes. They’ll be talking about this for weeks.”
“We like making it into people’s memory books and family traditions.”
“We’re working on starting some new ones.” Tara’s expression was fierce as she said it.
Jace recognized a vow when he heard it. “Gotta be hard on you. All that responsibility.”
He got that sharp look again.
“You’re too young to be Mom. You and Ginny have the same eyes. I figured sister.” He’d known already but didn’t see the sense in confirming her expectation that people were talking.
Ahead of them Austin and Ginny raced from one tree to the next. Tara watched them for a moment before answering. “Half-sister, actually. We share a father, such as he is. As it happens, I lucked out more in the mom department than they did. So I’m working on making up for that.”
“I’d say you’re doing an admirable job.”
Tara frowned at him. “You aren’t at all put off by them, are you?”
“Not a bit. I love kids. They’re a lot of fun. Especially this time of year.”
“Tara come look! This one! This one!” Ginny waved her arms like she was presenting a prize.
Her sister walked around the tree, checking the shape. “How’s the height?”
Austin held up the measuring stick. “Little over seven feet, but it’ll fit.”
“Well, I guess this is it then,” Tara confirmed.
“My axe is at your service, milady. Stand back, y’all.” He made short work of chopping down the tree. “We’ll clean up the base once we get it back to the barn.”
They retrieved the wagon and loaded up the tree. Jace took the long way back, giving an informal tour of the farm on the way.
As predicted, his mom had hot cider waiting. Jace made introductions.
“Mom, this is Tara, Austin, and Ginny Honeycutt. Y’all, my mom, Linda Applewhite.”
“Nice to meet y’all.” She passed out drinks, while he hauled the tree over to the baling table and smoothed out the base with the chainsaw.
“You want the trimmings?” he asked Tara.
“Yes, please.”
He trimmed the lower branches enough for a stand, then pulled the whole thing through the big round tube of the baler, wrapping it in netting that would keep it bundled until they got it home. Hefting the tree on one shoulder, he hauled it over to the little SUV and tied it to the roof rack with twine.
“You’re all set.”
“How much do we owe you?” Tara asked.
He named a figure and accepted the cash she handed over. “I hope you enjoy it. Are you okay to get it down and in when you get home?”
“I’ll manage. Thanks for everything, Jace. And thank you for the cider, Mrs. Applewhite.”
“Thank you!” the kids chorused.
“Come on, you monkeys. Load up. We’ve got a tree to decorate.”
They piled into the car. Tara shot him a wave before she backed up and headed down the drive.
“You didn’t charge them for the hay ride,” Linda observed.
“Take it out of my paycheck.”
Chapter 3
Austin draped colored twinkle lights around the tree. “That was so awesome! Did you see the way Jace used that axe? Chopped this thing down in three strikes. Someday I’m gonna be big enough to do that.”
Yes. Yes I noticed. Tara told herself her mouth was watering over the popcorn she was stringing onto fishing line. She hadn’t been able to avoid noticing the flex and bunch of muscle as he’d wielded the axe to fell their tree. She’d never known she had a secret lumberjack fantasy until this morning. A lumberjack with big brown eyes and a mile wide soft spot for kids.
It wasn’t what she’d expected from a twenty-four year old grad student. She’d done her homework, too. Not that it’d been hard. Her boss, Cassie Callister, was the self-declared Princess of Gossip in Wishful, second only to Mama Pearl Buckley, who owned Dinner Belles Diner. The two were in a constant competition to find out the scoop on anything and everything before anybody else. In this case, Cassie had given a hopeful eyebrow waggle that the inside scoop was about Tara being interested in Jace. She’d shut down that assumption in a hurry. Even if Wishful was the family seat, he didn’t live here. Not permanently. And aside from that, she didn’t have time for dating or relationships. Besides, what guy in her age bracket would want a package deal?
The kind of guy who would go out of his way to take you all out to pick a Christmas tree, even though the farm was closed.
She’d wondered initially if Jace was just being nice to her siblings to try to get to her since his more direct flirtation hadn’t worked. But he’d seemed to genuinely enjoy hanging out with them. Austin and Ginny hadn’t stopped talking about him or the farm since they got back in the car.
“Do you think we could maybe go back sometime and take Pepper and Rupert more carrots?” Ginny asked. “Horses ought to get Christmas presents, don’t you think?”
“Oh, well, we’ll have to see about that.” Tara took great care not to make promises she wasn’t positive she could keep. They’d had far too many broken in the past.
Jace may have been kind enough to give them all a great Christmas memory, but that certainly didn’t mean he was ready to entertain them again.
Still, Tara couldn’t regret the expressions of sheer delight on Ginny and Austin’s faces. This was the most excitement she’d seen from her brother in the year and a half they’d been under her care. It was the first time he’d really acted like the kid he was. Tara figured she owed Jace something for that. If she baked him cookies would he read too much into it?
“Are you done wi
th the popcorn garland?” Austin asked.
“Not by half. Ginny keeps eating the components.”
Her sister giggled and stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth.
Shaking her head with a smile, Tara headed for the kitchen. “I’ll go make another batch.”
An enormous boom shook the house. Tara automatically dove to cover Ginny, yelling for Austin to get down.
But no glass rained down. There were no aftershocks. No scent of smoke.
Austin peeked out from behind the Christmas tree. “What was that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a transformer blew.” It totally wasn’t a transformer. That explosion had been way too loud. “Everybody okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“I’m okay,” Ginny said, squirming out of Tara’s hold and making a beeline for the window. “There’s smoke over there.”
Tara followed where the pointed, seeing billowing smoke in the distance above the treeline. “Y’all, put on your shoes and coats. We’re gonna go find out what’s going on.”
While the kids gathered their stuff, she stepped out onto the porch. Whatever was burning was far enough off she didn’t feel like the house was in immediate danger. They’d had a wet autumn, so the woods between here and there shouldn’t go up like tinder. But something big had blown.
Bundling the kids into the RAV, she locked the house and headed up the road. As soon as the trees cleared, she could see the huge towers of flame fanning the sky.
“Holy crap!”
Tara was too shocked to correct her brother. Holy crap, indeed.
Even as she stared, a fire truck approached from the rear. She pulled over to the shoulder behind another vehicle to let it pass, then just sat there. The driver of the car in front got out and walked up to the window.
Tara rolled it down and heard the roar. “Any idea what’s going on?”
“Gas line exploded,” he said, turning to look back toward where the firemen were unfurling hose and spraying down the blaze. “I heard it over the scanner. They’re calling in fire crews from all over the county.”
“Gas? Oh man, our house runs on gas. Is it safe?”
“Tara! Lump!” Ginny wailed from the back seat.
