Page 5 of It's a Wonderful Knife
“You folks don’t know Max like I do.” I didn’t like being sucked into this type of conversation, but I felt an instinctive need to defend Max.
Shifting in his seat, River said, “No. That’s true, we don’t. But something tells me that isn’t our fault.”
He had a point. Maxwell was difficult to get close to. Nobody knew that better than me. But I also knew he was well worth the effort. “Oh, I think you’ll all see a different side to Max on this trip.”
“Wouldn’t that be splendid?” River said, peering at his phone.
Whether the people on the trip ended up liking Maxwell more by the end of this or not didn’t really concern me. I liked him plenty enough for all of us, and that was all that mattered.
When the bus swerved suddenly, some of the passengers let out anxious yelps. The bags in the racks above our heads slammed into the metal bars, but they stayed up on the shelf. As the tires screeched, I gripped the seat in front of me, peering toward the front to see what was going on. Hank had a death grip on the steering wheel, and he was swearing at a red sports car in front of us.
“Jesus,” River rasped, pressing his hand to his chest. “That was close.”
“What was that guy thinking?” Gerald Granger yelled from the back. “What kind of damn fool passes a bus on a blind curve? He could have got us all killed.”
“That red car barely missed that semitruck,” Penelope wailed.
The bus slowed down, and Hank said in a wobbly voice, “It’s okay, folks. Everything is under control.”
My heart was pounding as I looked over to check on Max. Hermina was clutching her dog, looking petrified, and Maxwell was talking to her in a low, calm voice. Max could often be impatient with emotional people, so it was good to see him trying to soothe the older woman.
“You okay, River?” Lucas called out from behind us.
River turned his head and gave his friend a weak smile. “I think so.” River’s knuckles were white from gripping the arm of the seat so hard. “You?”
“Awesome. Although, I might need a new pair of boxers,” Lucas said sardonically.
“Everything is fine,” I said to no one in particular.
As everyone murmured excitedly about what a close call that had been, Hank shifted gears and slowed the vehicle down. I thought maybe he’d pull over because he looked a little rattled, but the big bus continued to wind around hairpin curves that hugged the rocky hills. Gradually the flat terrain on the one side of us began to change, and soon the road was hugged on both sides by rugged hills, thick with pine trees.
After thirty minutes or so, Hank turned onto a dirt road. The bus passed through the iron gates, where a sign indicated we were now entering Giggly Elves Farm. I gave a sigh of relief because I was more than ready to get off the bus. Hank steered the bus down a long, bumpy drive that was surrounded by Leyland and Arizona cypress trees.
Giggly Elves was a forty-two-acre working tree farm. They were open year-round because they were also a bed-and-breakfast, but their busiest seasons were autumn and winter. People came for the pumpkins and the Christmas trees but stayed for the country charm of the bed-and-breakfast. The cook, Elle, also made one of the best pecan pies I’d ever eaten. I always made a point of taking one of her pies home to serve at my Christmas meal. This year I’d have Max with me on Christmas Day, and I was over the moon excited about that. I really wanted him to experience how wonderful a holidaycouldbe, if you were with the right people.
Even though we were now officially on the grounds of Giggly Elves Farm, it was still quite a drive to the actual farmhouse. The dirt road was surrounded by thick trees, and at one point, we crossed a small wooden bridge built over a river that cut through the farm. When we came to a large parking area to the side of the road, Hank pulled into the lot and we all gave a collective sigh of relief.
There were two school buses already parked in the lot, and my eyes narrowed when I also spotted a bright red sports car. It looked exactly like the one that had almost gotten us killed earlier on that curve. I realized there were plenty of red cars in the world, but this one had the same bumper sticker the other car had had:Bankers do it with interest.
“Okay, folks, someone from the farm will be here shortly to pick you up.” Hank shut off the engine and stood to face us. “Now you get to experience one of the best parts: the hayride.”
I flicked my uneasy gaze to Max, but his expression was blank. I knew him well enough to know hayrides weren’t on his bucket list. He was a city boy through and through. In fact, I’d had to talk him into wearing jeans on this trip, instead of his usual suit. Luckily, he’d listened to me. He’d have looked pretty ridiculous perched on a bale of hay wearing one of his custom-made suits.
“I’ll see you all in a week when I come back to pick you up.” As Hank spoke, he pushed a lever, and the doors of the bus swooshed open. “You have a wonderful time during your stay.”
When I stepped off the bus, I eyed the red car parked a few feet away. I was positive it had to be the same car. I wanted to have a word with the driver, but I didn’t see anyone around. Since I couldn’t find the driver at the moment, I moved over to where Max was standing with Girdy. There was definite tension along his sharp jaw, and his eyes had a hint of anxiety gleaming in the blue depths.
I smiled at him, and he seemed to relax ever so slightly. “We’re here,” I said.
“Yes. That bus ride certainly was… long.”
I grimaced. “I know. Sorry. There’s no other way around getting to where the trees grow.”
“Of course.” He nodded. “A necessary evil. But now we’re here.”
“Exactly.”
I was pleased when he leaned into me with his shoulder, as if he needed that contact. He didn’t show affection that often, so it was nice when he did something like that. I rubbed his back, and he sighed. His obvious tension worried me a bit if only because the trip had barely begun. He’d probably be fine once we were safely in our private cabin. He’d be able to unwind then.
