Page 2 of Frosty the Farmhand
Snatching the envelope from Tobias, I feel my eyes widen at the weight of it.
Hush money.
Tobias smirks as I shove it into my back pocket without daring to count it.
It’s the kind of money that makes me wish I was a better man—a stronger man—one that could go toe to toe with this asshole in a suit and come out on top.
But I’m not and in this room I never will be.
“You’ll be out before sundown,” Tobias says, the finality of this conversation, my relationship with Dante, and my life for the past several years reduced to the setting sun.
But I made my bed and now I’ll lie in it, let the cold pull me under because when I leave, there’ll be no looking back.
I’ve learned my lesson because Tobias was right—the help is temporary and that’s all I’ll ever be.
1
REID
PRESENT DAY
Wintervale, Montana, at Christmas is my favorite, and as I breathe in the cool, crisp air, I can’t help being thankful that I get to be here year-round.
Finally.
Growing up, my parents had brought me here just for the summers to run wild with my cousins. The days were long, exploring and working the land, but I craved it all the months we were back in Ohio. The mountains called to me, the land rugged and wild and everything I’m not.
I’d honed my nerdy, outdoor vibe, doing everything my cousins could do but without looking like I stepped from the pages ofRanchers R Us.
But I loved it here all the same, forgoing vacations to the beach to be in the mountain air. The summers had never been enough, and when I graduated from high school, no one was surprised I chose to go to college up here. Less surprising still was the day I moved in with my cousin Wren.
We’d always been close, but over the years, we’d become inseparable, and I didn’t hate it one bit. She’s the yin to my yang, sassy and playful and never afraid to put someone in their place.I’ve always envied that quality, because most times people didn’t change their tune just because you smiled at them.
Doesn’t stop me from trying though.
The streets of Wintervale are buzzing with tourists and locals all embracing the holiday spirit with mugs of coffee that will undoubtedly be hot toddies as the day goes on. It’s my favorite way to end a busy shift at the tree farm.
Normally, I’m sequestered in my office keeping our marketing and social media campaigns up and running. About the only time I venture out is if I need pictures or video for whatever I’m working on.
But December is all-hands-on-deck so in addition to my job, I’m working every available minute in the fields or gift shop, making sure people are getting the best possible experience. I’ve seen engagements and family photos and first dates among the trees. It’s a kind of magic that’s hard to describe—the kind that even when you’re dog-tired at the end of the day, you can’t help but feel joy at being able to witness it.
Wren likes to tease me for my ability to romanticize almost anything, but I don’t see the downside. My penchant for festive and fun makes me the perfect date, shopping buddy, and all-around good time.
My phone rings in my pocket and I pull it out, smiling as I see Wren’s name flash across the screen. We probably could have had this conversation at the house—we’re roommates after all—but I’d been compelled to get an early start, and early had never been in Wren’s vocabulary.
“Good morning, sunshine,” I say with a level of enthusiasm for the daylight hours that grates on her nerves.
“That’syou—the rest of us need coffee first.”
“Well, hook up your IV and let that caffeine flow!” I joke as I walk down the sidewalk and give a couple of people an awkward salute with my coffee cup in hand.
“Very funny. Anyway, not why I’m calling,” she says, mildly out of breath like she’s late running around getting ready for work. “You’ll never guess what happened.”
“You won the lottery.”
“No.”
“You’ve decided I can get that fancy coffee maker and matching apron that sayskiss the barista,” I guess and she snorts out a laugh.
