Page 9 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
Michael’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “My grandfather saidforever.” He cracked a grin that made her heart skip. “But he also told me Santa comes every year to inspect the trees to make sure they’re good enough for gifts to sit under them.”
Sarah laughed, the sound surprising her with its lightness. Was she flirting with the tree farmer?
She glanced over at her mother, who was deep in conversation with Daniel about Christmas bakes and the proper consistency of gingerbread. But Sarah caught the way Pat’s eyes darted their way, then quickly back to Daniel…who seemed to be doing the exact same thing.
Heat crept up Sarah’s cheeks. Was she that transparent? Could everyone see how this man affected her?
“We should probably get on with taking the tree down,” she said, tucking a strand of hair back under her beanie. “There must be plenty of other people who need your help in choosing the perfect tree.”
Michael looked around the farm, where other families wandered between the rows. “There are plenty of other people to help,” he said, turning back to her. “And this is an important tree.”
“Because it’s our first real tree,” Sarah said, feeling oddly touched that he understood.
Michael nodded, his expression softening. “But also the first tree you have chosen for Christmas in Bear Creek.” He gave her a mock bow that was somehow both playful and sincere. “I am honored you picked one of mine.”
She smiled shyly, tucking her hands into her coat pockets. He was everything she could want in a man…if she were looking. But she wasn’t.
Okay, maybe she was looking, just a little. But there would be no touching. Absolutely no touching. She’d made that rule for herself the day she’d signed the divorce papers.
Her focus from now on was on Emmy and building a new life for them.
Michael kneeled beside the tree, brushing away snow from the base. “I’ll notch the trunk here,” he explained, showing her exactly where he’d make the cut. “When you set it up in the stand, this is how it’ll sit.”
Sarah nodded, oddly thrilled by the practicality of his explanation. There was something deeply attractive about a man who knew what he was doing and took the time to share that knowledge.
Daniel and Pat wandered over to join them, but then Daniel paused, pulling out his phone. “Excuse me,” he said, thumbing out a quick text.
The children came bounding over, cheeks flushed with excitement. Michael pulled two bright ribbons from his pocket, tying one around Emmy’s chosen tree and another on the tree the Brooks family had selected. The kids posed proudly with their tags while Sarah snapped several photos as a lasting memory of their first real Christmas tree. And meeting Michael.
With the photos taken, everyone gathered around as Michael talked the children through safety—where to stand, where not to touch—and then set the first careful cuts. Sarah held her breath as the spruce gave a soft creak. It settled exactly where Michael had promised it would, and the kids erupted in cheers.
As Michael reset his stance for Daniel’s tree, movement caught Sarah’s eye. Two figures appeared on the path dragging a sled. Michael looked up, surprise evident on his face as he cast a questioning glance at Daniel.
“Mom! Dad!” Michael called, straightening up with a broad smile. “What are you doing here?”
The older couple approached, both bundled in matching red and green plaid scarves. The woman had Michael’s eyes, and the man had his strong jawline and amiable smile.
“Oh, we were just passing and thought we’d pop in to see how things were going,” the woman said, sending Daniel an affectionate smile that made Sarah think it was no accident Michael’s parents were here. “See if you needed a hand.”
Michael’s cheeks flushed pink, and he glanced sideways at Sarah, which kind of gave her the idea he’d had the same thoughts. His parents were the recipients of Daniel’s text.
But why?
Oh, the thought dawned on her. Daniel realized how much time Michael was spending helping them choose their tree and was concerned he might need an extra pair of hands.
“These are my parents,” Michael said to Sarah. “Holly and Noel North.”
“Holly and Noel?” Sarah clasped her hands together. “That’s so cute.”
“Like Christmas had a hand in their meeting, right?” Michael said, echoing her thoughts exactly.
“Oh, it absolutely did,” Holly said with a loving gaze at her husband. “Christmas Eve party, 1982. I was hanging holly, he was dressed as you-know-who for the children.”
“Not subtle, Mom,” Michael groaned, but his eyes were filled with affection.
Sarah felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with her layers of winter clothing. There was something about this family that felt so...right. So welcoming. Like they embodied the spirit of Christmas.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said, extending her hand to Holly, who ignored it completely and pulled her into a hug instead.
