“Black is fine.” She did prefer cream but didn’t want to seem ungrateful. “So how come you didn’t go on the sleigh ride last night?”
Ethan screwed up his face and handed her the mug. “Why would I go there? Too many people.”
Kristen snorted. “You would hate it where I lived then.”
“That we can agree on. I never was much of a city guy.”
Memories of Ethan as a little boy bubbled up. He had always loved being in the woods. He’d practically lived outside and had learned at an early age how to identify all the plants and bugs, animals, and reptiles.
He was the one who had taught her how to catch bullfrogs and which plants to avoid. They’d spent hot summer days splashing their feet in the cool waters of the streams that ran through their property. Did Ethan even enjoy those simple pleasures anymore?
“Remember all the turtles we used to find in the pond?” Kristen said when a random memory of them catching painted turtles popped up.
That got a smile out of her brother. “Yep. There’s still a lot of them in there. The frogs too. You’ll hear them in the summer.”
Kristen’s smile widened. “I’m looking forward to that. And the fireflies and dragonflies. Do birds still nest in the eaves of the barn?” There was so much to look forward to about being home.
“They do. I’m glad you’re home, sis.” Ethan’s smile warmed Kristen’s heart. He truly meant it. “And Mom could sure use the help on the tree lot. Everyone knows I’m no good at talking to customers.”
“Speaking of which. Some people at the sleigh ride were wondering when we were going to put our trees out on the lot.”
Kristen studied her brother over the rim of her coffee mug. He’d never been a good liar, and she could see by the look on his face that the problem wasn’t as minimal as he’d been trying to make it out to be.
“It’s a little too early for that still.”
“Uh-huh. Are you just saying that so I won’t worry?” Kristen put her mug down on the coffee table, which was really just a slab of wood on concrete blocks. “I have a big stake in the success of the tree farm, you know. I’ve quit my job, and it’s all I’ve got.”
Ethan pressed his lips together and put his mug down on the counter. “Okay, there is something going on with the trees, like I’ve told you and Mom, but I am having a bit of trouble figuring it out. I think it’s that they’re not getting enough nutrients. Dad had trouble before too, but I tried his fix, and it didn’t work. I’m downplaying it to Mom because I don’t want her to worry, but if you want to see, I’d be happy to show you what’s going on.”
Kristen stood. That was the answer she had been looking for. It made her feel included, like an equal in the business. “I’d love to. Let’s go.”
They trudged through the snow toward the rows of trees. Kristen had hoped Ethan would show her the problem, so she’d worn heavy boots that went halfway up her calves. Lucky thing, because the snow was almost that deep in some places.
Ethan bent down to brush snow from the base of one of the trees. “I’ve put some burlap around the base here to try to keep the earth from freezing so the fertilizer can penetrate. Pines love acidic soil, so I modified Dad’s formula to include more sulfur. Oak leaves would work, but that would take too long for what we need right now.”
He stood and pinched off one of the smaller branches. “See, it’s brighter green toward the trunk but more dry on the edges. I think it might be working, but I need a few more weeks to be sure.”
“We don’t really have a few weeks, do we?” Kristen asked.
“Just barely. We usually don’t put the trees out till two weeks before Christmas, so we’ve got a little time. Even if we stock the lot about half a week late, I think everyone will understand.” Ethan walked among the trees as he talked, touching branches and looking at the needles. “The blue spruces seem to be doing much better, so we could put those out first. I don’t want you to worry about this. It’s going to work out. You’ll see.”
Kristen didn’t know anything about trees or fertilizer; that was something her father had not taught her. But she knew Ethan was smart, and he had the best interests of the farm at heart.
She had no reason not to trust him and not to believe that things would be okay. “Okay. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
Chapter 17
Mason was sitting at the dining room table, papers spread around in disarray as he worked on the design for the skating pond, when movement on the porch caught his eye. A fluffy cat was batting ornaments off of the silver-tinsel Christmas tree his father had just put up.
“Isn’t that the neighbor’s cat?” Mason asked.
His father squinted out the window. “Oh, yeah, it is.”
To Mason’s surprise, Kent opened the refrigerator, poured some milk into a saucer, and put it outside for the cat. Mason had expected his father to yell and shoo the cat away, but maybe small-town life was mellowing the old man. It was a good change. He’d much rather have his dad kind and happy than angry and grumpy like he had been the past few years.
“His name is George. Maybe you should take him back across the street. There’s wildlife in these woods, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to him,” Kent said as they both watched the cat lapping up the milk.
“I guess I could use a break from working on these plans.” Mason stretched. He had to admit that the thought of seeing Kristen Woodward again wasn’t exactly unpleasant. He grabbed his jacket, scooped up the cat, and headed across the street.
