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Boughs of Holly

Page 2

by Shanna Hatfield


  Seth grinned as he drove down the mountain toward the city. He’d have to ask Rhett how things were going with the neighbor when they got together Friday evening. Since Rhett moved back to town, every Friday the two of them got together with the Miller brothers, Drew and Drake, and had dinner. Sometimes they watched a football game, if one of them remembered to record it, or they’d enjoy a movie. Once in a great while, they played cards. Drew and Drake were close to their age and they’d all been friends in school.

  In fact, Seth tried to remember if this week was his turn to host their gathering. If so, he’d better think about a menu and a movie.

  Seth’s musings were cut short when he swerved to avoid hitting a skunk, then narrowly missed getting smacked into by a semi heading up the mountain in the fog.

  Nerves rattled, he clenched the steering wheel and kept an attentive eye on the road. Five minutes later, he slammed on the brakes when a herd of deer ran through the swirling mist in front of him. The gulp of air he swallowed left him choking and coughing. He was still thumping his chest and waiting for his heart to climb down out of this throat when he glanced back and saw fast-approaching headlights getting frighteningly close to his tailgate.

  “Move it, Bambi!” he yelled at the deer, willing them to hurry out of the way. The second the last fuzzy tail moved from in front of his pickup, he hit the gas. The car behind him slammed on the brakes and only missed his back bumper by a few inches.

  Seth hated driving in the fog and his grandpa knew it. If this was some tough love experiment that Pops thought would help him get over his fear of driving in the fog, it wasn’t working. Seth had no problem with driving in pouring-down rain, a blizzard, or sheets of ice, but put him in the fog and it was as though someone slowly sucked all the air from his lungs.

  Somewhere in the gray bleakness that surrounded him when he was on the road, he could hear the screech of metal along with his mother’s and Maggie’s screams. As long as he stayed home when it was foggy, he was fine. But put him behind the wheel and all his childhood nightmares flooded over him, leaving him on edge and emotionally spent.

  Thankfully, once he pulled onto the freeway, the fog lifted along with his gloomy thoughts. Determined to get the ordeal over with sooner rather than later, he headed downtown. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his grandpa’s financial advisor. The man was honest and fair, and had helped Sam with numerous projects over the years.

  The problem stemmed from the location of his office in a building in the smack-dab center of Portland’s downtown business area. Driving down the busy, ridiculously narrow streets was bad enough for a small-town country boy, but trying to find a parking space for his big pickup was even less likely to happen than finding a parking space near the mall doors on the Saturday before Christmas.

  Seth took an exit and made his way to the street that ran in front of Mr. Taylor’s office building. As far as he could see, cars were parked bumper to bumper. He slowed and looked down side streets with nothing available. Intently watching to see if someone was just getting into their car or out of it, he found himself stuck in the lane that took him across a bridge that spanned the Willamette River and out of the downtown area.

  Aggravated, Seth drove around the block and made his way back. After the fourth time he made a mile-wide loop searching for a parking space, he felt as though the heavens had opened and shined a spotlight on a car in a parking space just ahead of him signaling to enter traffic.

  “Finally,” he muttered as he stopped and motioned for the car to pull out. The driver waved and zoomed into traffic.

  The space was going to be tight, but Seth could fit in it if he parallel parked. He pulled his truck ahead and looked in the rear-view mirror to back up and park only to see a hideous mint-green subcompact car whip into the space.

  “Hey! That’s mine,” he shouted out the window he quickly rolled down.

  A flame-haired woman jumped out of the car and gave him a friendly smile and wave before she rushed down the sidewalk and disappeared inside a building.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Seth slapped the steering wheel, although he felt more like strangling the woman with the wild, curly locks who’d stolen his parking space.

  Cars honked behind him so Seth put the truck in gear and returned to his fruitless efforts of finding a place to park. Ten minutes later, he finally snagged a spot that was a dozen blocks from the financial advisor’s office.

  As he walked to the office in the cold, drizzly rain that began to fall, he called his grandpa.

  “Hey, Seth. How’s it going?”

  “I’ll tell you how it’s going, old man,” Seth snapped. “It’s taken me forty-five minutes to find a parking space so I can take these papers to Mr. Taylor. The next time you need to send him something, email it!”

  Sam chuckled. “Oh, it’s good for you to experience big city life once in a while. Don’t forget to bring home barbecue for dinner.”

  Seth glared at the phone when his grandfather disconnected the call. “You conniving old coot. I ought to bring you prune juice and pistachio pudding, since you hate both those things. That’d teach you to send me on your stupid errands.”

  He hadn’t realized he spoke the words aloud until two people dressed in business suits gave him an odd look.

  At that moment, Seth didn’t know if he should be more put out with his grandpa for sending him downtown or the idiot woman who stole his parking space. What was wrong with people, anyway?

  The tight clench of his jaw kept him from speaking any more thoughts aloud as he turned up the collar of his coat and ate up the distance to Mr. Taylor’s office with his long-legged stride. Several people stared at him, as if seeing a cowboy in the midst of their urban life made him as foreign as if he’d dropped down from an alternate universe.

  Since he’d left his gloves in the pickup, Seth’s fingers felt half frozen by the time he pushed open the door to the lobby of the building where Mr. Taylor’s office was located. He shared the elevator with two businessmen who looked at him as though he’d dragged every foul thing from the barnyard along on his boots. A woman, who had to be at least twice his age and appeared to operate under the mistaken assumption she passed for far younger, batted her fake eyelashes at him and sidled inappropriately close, engulfing him in a cloud of cloying perfume. Before she got off the elevator, she tucked a business card in his pocket and purred, “give me a call, cowboy. I’ll make it worth your time.”

  Seth waited until the elevator door closed to take out the card and crumple it in a wad. He dropped it in a trash can when he stepped off on Mr. Taylor’s floor.

  Irritation simmered just below the surface as he walked into the office and discovered from the receptionist that Mr. Taylor didn’t know he was coming and was on an important phone call that couldn’t be interrupted.

  “I’ll just leave the papers for him, Mrs. Kern. If he has questions, he can call my grandpa.” Seth tried to hand the envelope to Mr. Taylor’s secretary, but she shook her head.

  “Mr. Taylor will want to see you, Mr. Stafford. His meeting shouldn’t go too much longer.” She glanced at the clock as though to confirm her assurance. “Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink? A bottle of water? Coffee?”

  Although Seth wouldn’t mind a jolt of caffeine, he declined. “I’m fine, but thank you.”

  Twenty minutes later, Mr. Taylor rushed out of his office with a smile and extended hand. “Thanks for waiting, Seth. How’s that cantankerous, opinionated grandpa of yours?”

  Seth grinned. “You know him well, Mr. Taylor. He’s the same as always.”

  Mr. Taylor laughed and ushered Seth into his office. Once they both were seated, Mr. Taylor took the papers from the envelope Seth handed to him and reviewed them. “Thank you for bringing this in, Seth. I don’t foresee any problem with the investments your grandfather wants to make. I’ll send copies when everything is finalized.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Seth stood and offered the man
his hand.

  Mr. Taylor walked him back out to the waiting area. “Do you and Sam have big plans for Thanksgiving next week?”

  “Some friends invited us to eat with them, so we’re looking forward to that. Otherwise we’d either be eating steak, or frozen turkey dinners.”

  Mr. Taylor laughed. “Personally, I’d go for the steak.”

  Seth nodded in agreement. “Come out sometime and we’ll slap one on the grill for you.”

  “I might just do that, but not until after the winter weather has passed. If I recall correctly, getting down the road to your ranch is a bit of challenge until the spring mud dries.”

  “That it is. Maybe you can talk Pops into finally paving the road.”

  “I think we both know that’s not going to happen.” Mr. Taylor grinned and shook Seth’s hand again. “Be safe driving home. I heard it was foggy up on the mountain today.”

  “It was pretty bad coming down. I hope it’s cleared up by the time I head back.” Seth tipped his head to Mr. Taylor’s secretary. “You both have a great holiday season.”

  “We will, Seth. Tell your grandpa I’ll be in touch soon.”

  Seth nodded then left the office. The meeting with Mr. Taylor had taken all of five minutes. He’d wasted almost an hour and a half between finding somewhere to park, hiking to the office, and then waiting because Pops failed to let Mr. Taylor know Seth was heading his way. If he had, Mr. Taylor wouldn’t have kept him waiting.

  Seth settled his hat back on his head and stepped outside into the drizzle that felt even colder than it had earlier as he made his way to his pickup. Nearly there, he decided to duck into a little coffee shop for something warm to drink. He had another hour before he planned to get lunch and a hot coffee would go far in taking off the chill while he ran errands.

  He’d just reached for the door when it swung open. A woman, playing with her cell phone, breezed right into him. Her latte spilled all down the front of him.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” The woman looked up at him with big gray eyes and freckles dotting her nose. Red curls spiraled around her face and over her shoulders like thick ribbons of coiled silk. High cheekbones and lips that seemed to naturally rest in a smile made her look both fun-loving and approachable, especially in the dark blue coat she wore with a sparkly pink scarf looped around her neck.

  Lovely, she really was lovely.

  Then recognition set in and Seth glowered at her. This woman was the reason he was walking in the rain in the first place. She was the ninny who’d nabbed his parking spot. “Do you pay any attention to what’s going on around you?” he snapped, aware he sounded like a jerk.

  “Normally, yes. I’m so sorry,” the woman said, appearing apologetic.

  Uncertain whether it was caused by the woman’s alluring voice or the moisture soaking through his clothes, Seth shivered.

  “Can I pay to have your coat cleaned? You might want to drop it off before the milk dries.” The woman brushed at his chest with a napkin that quickly disintegrated, leaving little fibers of white clinging to the mess soaking into his coat.

  “Never mind. It’s fine. Just watch where you’re going.” He tempered his tone as he stepped aside so she could walk past him. She opened an umbrella and knocked his hat off into a puddle.

  Seth fought back the urge to shout in frustration, especially when she didn’t even notice. The woman’s attention appeared glued to the screen of her phone as she tapped a message with one finger.

  Angry beyond words, Seth picked up his hat and went inside the coffee shop. He washed the latte off his coat as best he could in the restroom sink then gave his hat a shake before leaving the shop without even bothering to get a coffee to drink. He jogged the rest of the way back to his pickup and barely kept his teeth from chattering as he turned the heat on high and waited for it to dry his wet shirt that now clung to his back since his coat was not only wet, but smelly.

  He’d just pulled into traffic and started down the street when a little mint-green car driven by a woman with a head full of red curls whipped in front of him, making him slam the brakes as the car cut around a corner.

  “That woman is a menace!” Seth muttered hostilely. “If I never see her again it will be far too soon.”

  Chapter Two

  The hay buyer had just pulled away from the hayshed, heading down the drive when snowflakes started to fall the next morning.

  Sam shot Seth an I-told-you-so-grin as they worked together to tie a tarp over the bales at the end of the haystack to keep the moisture off the hay, even though it sat beneath a covered hayshed. It never failed if they didn’t tarp it that the wind blew in snow and rain, ruining the end bales.

  “Look at that. Snow,” Sam remarked in a sarcastic tone.

  “Smug does not look good on you,” Seth said as he tugged down a strap and fastened it to hold the tarp in place.

  “Maybe not, but I was right. Again,” Sam gloated. “Or maybe I should say as usual.”

  “Pops, I’m in no mood for it today. I still haven’t recovered from yesterday and that’s entirely your fault.” Seth said. He climbed up to check the top of the stack. Assured the wind wouldn’t free the cords holding the tarp down if it decided to blow with a gale force, he drew in a deep, calming breath.

  From his lofty position, he could see much of the ranch, shrouded by concrete-hued skies that released a flurry of snowflakes. He glanced down to where his grandpa worked to free a tarp from a small stack of hay he planned to haul to the barn to feed their stock. The hay wasn’t high quality enough to sell to their usual buyers who wanted the best for their horses. But it was great feed for their cattle.

  In addition to selling hay, Seth and Sam raised Hereford cattle for beef. They could have gone into the Christmas tree business, if either of them had a desire to cut down some of their trees, which they didn’t. They had enough to do just keeping the cattle fed and growing their feed, along with raising horse-quality hay.

  Sam gazed up at him and shook his head. “You can’t blame me for that woman messing up your day. Doesn’t it seem odd you ran into her three times, though, in such a short time?” Sam grinned. “You never did say if she was pretty.”

  “How she looked has no bearing on the fact she should have her driver’s license revoked. That woman ought to come with a warning sign that says ‘Scatterbrained twit. Approach at your own risk!’ She absolutely had no clue what she’d done to me.”

  Sam kicked at a clump of snow on the tarp. “But you did get your hat cleaned at the western store and your coat was fine after we tossed it in the washer when you got home. No harm done.”

  “No harm done,” Seth mimicked as he started climbing down the stair steps they’d made of hay that had already sat out in the weather too long. His foot hit an icy spot and he grabbed for the bale above him to keep his balance. He glanced down at his grandfather. “Be careful, Pops. There might be ice under that snow.”

  The words had no more than left his mouth when his grandfather shouted and waved his arms as he lost his footing and fell backward off the stack.

  “Pops!” Seth yelled, racing downward. He jumped off a bale when he was halfway down the stack and landed in the pile of snow by his grandpa. “Pops?” Seth placed his ear close to his grandfather’s face, grateful to feel the older man’s warm breath blow against it. He decided the fall must have knocked him out. The steady rise and fall of his grandfather’s chest kept him from panicking, but the odd angle of his left leg chilled him more than the snow falling around them.

  “Hang on, Pops. I’ll get help on the way.” Seth knew it would be far faster to load his grandfather in his pickup and drive to the clinic in Faraday, but he hesitated to move him. He punched in 9-1-1 and waited as Sarah Kirkpatrick, the emergency operator who worked the day shift, answered.

  “Sarah, it’s Seth Stafford. My grandpa just fell off the haystack. He’s unconscious but breathing, and his leg looks like it might be broken. I think it’s best if I don’t move him.”r />
  “Okay, Seth. I’ll send the ambulance. They’ll be there soon. Stay on the line with me and if you can, grab some blankets and cover Sam. You don’t want him to get hypothermia or head into shock.”

  “Thanks, Sarah. I’ve got my phone on, but I’m running to the house for blankets. I’ll check back in with you in a minute.”

  Seth left his phone on, shoved it in his pocket, and ran for his pickup. He pulled a fleece blanket from beneath the back seat and settled it over his grandfather then sped back to the house. He rushed inside and grabbed a handful of blankets and a pillow then raced back to his grandfather. The two hired hands had returned from feeding cattle and knelt near Sam.

  “What can we do, Seth?” Andy asked, taking a blanket from him and spreading it over Sam while Seth carefully placed the pillow beneath his grandpa’s head.

  “Pray for Pops. The ambulance is on its way. Other than praying for him to be okay, I don’t know what else to do.” Seth dug his phone from his pocket. “Sarah? I’m back.”

  “The ambulance should be there in eight minutes. Is your driveway frozen?”

  “Yeah, it is.” Seth knew that would make it easier for them to drive over the rough road than if it was muddy. “We covered Pops and his breathing is the same.”

  “That’s good. What color is his skin?”

  Seth knelt in the snow and hay leaves. His grandfather’s skin appeared blanched of color, nearly as white as the snow. “Pale. Ghostly.”

  “Okay.”

  Seth could hear her tapping the keys of her keyboard as they talked.

  “So, did I hear that the Stafford Ranch will provide the cow for the nativity again this year?” Sarah asked as she typed.

  Grateful for Sarah’s efforts at distracting him, Seth sighed. “Yep. Pops volunteered to bring in Ivy. She’s his favorite right now. He bottle-raised her and she’s thrown a good calf the last three years, although she’s running a little late on the fall calving this year.”

  “Ivy, huh? All you need are some boughs of holly to go along with her. Isn’t there a Christmas song about the holly and the ivy?” Sarah said something Seth couldn’t hear, like she’d deliberately muted the phone. When she came back on, she returned to the conversation. “Didn’t you guys used to have a bunch of holly on the ranch?”

 

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