Page 25 of Christmas in Mistletoe
Ruby held Fran’s gaze for a beat, then shook her head. “Who knows, maybe Hollybush Cottage will enter a tree next year?” She gave Fran a smile. “And by the way,Elfis one of my very favourite movies. Never trust anyone who doesn’t like it. But there are plenty of other Christmas movies you really need to watch, too.”
Warmth coated Fran’s insides. Was Ruby offering to show them to her? Perhaps this morning had begun to turn their relationship around. “I’d love to get Christmas-movie schooled if you’re offering.” Fran scrunched her forehead. “That’s a sentence I never saw leaving my lips. Who am I in Mistletoe?” She’d been here less than 24 hours.
“Someone who’s discovering their Christmas soul.” Ruby reached out and shook her family’s tree. A mini-avalanche ensued, and Ruby jumped back seconds too late. She took off her bobble hat and shook her head, then gave Fran a grin. “Remember: snow looks pretty, but it can be bruising.”
They cleaned up the O’Connell tree, then walked to the top of the farm’s drive and turned right, just as they had a few months ago when Fran first arrived in the village. Then, she’d thought Mistletoe Farm was a little unkempt, a little rough around the edges. She no longer thought that. Plus, somebody had touched up the sign, and it looked good as new.
On top of that, Fran and Ruby’s initial war seemed to be ebbing away, and after a morning spent working together, the barriers were down. Now, Fran almost went to bump Ruby’s hip when she made a joke. Which was all sorts of weird. Fran didn’t even do that with her friends.
They walked up the road towards the store. They’d cleared this path earlier, too, piling up the snow into the ditches. The grit was doing its job. Now Fran understood the contest, she saw the trees in a whole new light. These ones didn’t have lights, but they had tinsel, baubles and strings of gold beads around them, as well as weather-resistant ornaments, visible when you were up close. Fran touched one of the ornaments, a polished wooden horseshoe.Anna, will you marry me? Love, Richard xwas engraved on it.
She turned it towards Ruby. “When was this done?”
“The second year of the festival, so 11 years ago.”
“Did Anna say yes?”
Ruby laughed. “She did, otherwise we might have taken that down. Anna is now a Beverton, and the Beverton family do this tree every year.” She pointed to the pot at the bottom of the tree. “You see the theme at the bottom? Horses.” Ruby pointed upwards. “Also, the saddle and riding crop on the top is a bit of a giveaway. Three years ago their theme was London and it won. They went to town with tiny black cabs, The London Eye, Buckingham Palace, every royal figurine they could lay their hands on. Their granddad even made a Tower of London for the top.”
Fran grinned. “I love themed trees. They should be everywhere!” She gave the nearest branches a shake, and snow fell off. It didn’t need much. This tree was weather-ready. Well done to the Bevertons. This was not their first Christmas tree rodeo.
“You should see my favourite. It’s tucked away behind Mistletoe Stores. The theme is Downhill Skier. It’s by the local printing company, and they’ve turned the tree into just that, with skis, a face, even goggles and crazy hair. I saw it this morning. It’s amazing.”
The next tree — with a theme of film — needed more work. Ruby shook it vigorously, got covered again, then together they cleared the branches as high as they could reach. Fran stood back as Ruby gave it one last shake that dislodged the snow from the clapperboard tree-topper. Luckily, the tree-topper stayed attached. After they’d tackled tree four (theme: wine), and Ruby had ticked it off her list, she messaged her brother to see if anything else needed to be done.
His message back was quick. Ruby let out a cute bark of laughter.
Fran frowned. Cute? Since when was Ruby’s laugh cute? Since now, apparently.
“Scott says to bring the food.” Ruby went to walk right, then stopped and hit her forehead. “Shit, I was about to walk. I forgot we need the van.” Ruby nodded towards the farm. “Shall we?”
Fran twisted on her foot and walked back down the slight incline, tilting her head to the clear sky above. Everything about Mistletoe was bright white, like someone had just applied a fresh coat of emulsion. The roads, the trees, the houses, the sky. Even the sharp air around her ears crackled white. The stillness was what got her, too. Her dads had said it had taken some getting used to, but now, they slept like gods.
They crunched back towards the farm.
Fran walked past the farm’s hedge, which was handily at hand height. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and scooped a pile of snow into her gloves. It packed down easily. Then she turned, and flung it at Ruby. It hit the back of her head.
Ruby stopped walking, put a hand to her hat and turned. She shook her head. “Did you just throw a snowball at me?” Her tone was incredulous. “You, the townie, want to take on the country girl?” Ruby raised an eyebrow, then ran to the other side of the road and grabbed some snow. “Big mistake, townie. Big mistake.”
Before Fran knew what was happening, a snowball hit her head. Then another. She rushed to make some more, but Ruby was on a different snowball-making level to her. For every one Fran made, Ruby made three. Possibly ten. Shit, Fran was buggered, wasn’t she?
Her only choice was to run. She broke into a jog, as snowballs hit her back and neck, cold penetrating to her skin. Fran shivered.
“No running! Against the rules!” Ruby shouted.
Ahead was the farm’s entrance, where they’d piled the big mound of snow earlier after clearing the paths. Fran reached it just as she heard Ruby’s footsteps screech to a halt behind her. Before she knew what was happening, Ruby’s arms were around her waist.
Fran wasn’t prepared for this to be a contact sport and fell sideways into the mound of snow.
Ruby fell on top of her with an audible ‘oomph’.
There was silence as they both lay there, on a duvet of snow, with body warmth alone for heat.
Fran opened her eyes.
Ruby was staring at her, a surprised look on her face. Her eyes travelled down Fran’s face, then her breath stilled.
A little like the moment between them.
