Page 79 of Stay this Christmas
I nodded at the bow saw he’d hooked his arm through. “You ready to use that thing?”
“Let’s get to lumberjackin’.”
Laughing at his silliness, I grabbed the trunk near the top as Sam got down on his knees. The steady whish-whish of the saw started up, the smell of pine overpowering this close up. The one thing I’d forgotten on my way out the door this morning was work gloves. This tree wasn’t too pitchy, but my hands would still smell like fresh-cut tree the rest of the day.
The trunk started to give way, but I held it upright as Sam finished the cut. It rolled off its stump, and I lurched forward to make sure our prize tree didn’t fall and damage any branches. He popped back up again, success sparkling in his eyes.
“That’s how it’s done.”
I laughed. “You never doubted yourself for a minute.”
“I suppose we have to lug this thing back to the other side of the farm now.”
“We could always flag down one of the ATVs and have them tow it back in a trailer.”
His eyes narrowed on me, taking my teasing as a challenge. Without a word, he bent down, grabbed the trunk, and hefted the tree onto his shoulder.
Once again, Sam had me all twisted up from doing something that by all rights shouldn’t be attractive. Carrying a pine tree? When had that become so stinking hot? But warmth curled through me like a red Christmas ribbon, confirming I’d been charmed by his secret lumberjack side.
My brain kept saying I needed to wade into this new thing with him slowly, but my body was ready to push me right off the edge.
TWENTY-FOUR
sam
“How did you do that?”I asked. “How did you know this tree would fit perfectly in your living room?”
Harper smiled as we stood back, admiring the bare tree we’d set up in its stand. It’d taken a little bit of maneuvering to get it standing just right, but looking at it now, the thing fit like a puzzle piece in front of her picture window.
“What can I say, I’m an expert at picking out trees.”
Made sense she’d know exactly the right dimensions. She hadn’t half-assed anything about Christmas so far.
“And now, we chuck a bunch of ornaments at it and see what sticks?”
She twisted her mouth at me. “There’s a method to it, Samuel.”
Man, I loved it when she called me by my full name. Not too proud to admit I provoked her in the hopes she’d scold me with it.
She crooked a finger at me and—oh, yeah. From the way my stomach dove, that ranked right up there with calling me by my full name.
I followed her into what must have been her guest bedroom. Not nearly enough personality in here to be Harper’s actual room. Her bed would have double the throw pillows and a soft blanket folded up at the foot.
I shook my head like I was trying to wake myself out of a daze. Really shouldn’t be imagining Harper’s bed right now.
She indicated a couple of plastic tubs, and we carted them back into the living room. Popping mine open, I found ornaments that might have been handmade. Fabric stars, burlap snowmen, and flannel birds sat on top of the soft collection.
I grabbed one of the birds and moved to hook it on the tree. Before I could get it there, Harper grabbed my hand. I would have relished the zing of awareness her touch carried through me if she hadn’t looked so horrified.
“We have to put the lights up first.” She sounded like I should have known better. Maybe I should have, but it’d been a lot of years since I’d put a tree up, and didn’t really remember all the particulars.
“Right. There’s a method to all the madness.”
She pulled two spools of white lights from her plastic bin, and we got to work looping them through the tree. Turned out there was a lot more to Harper’s method than just running lights around the outside—she strung them along branches toward the trunk so the whole thing would look like it glowed from within. And she didn’t go around and around the way I remembered, but she worked up and down, gradually moving on to the next section of tree.
“This is a lot of work,” I said as she poked and prodded the lights into place in the center of the tree.
“It looks more natural this way.”
