Sure, it wasn’t a perfect start, on paper or otherwise, but it was something.
Time to go pick out a Christmas tree, and earn my promotion.After packing away my curling iron, and applying a slick layer of vanilla-scented lip gloss,I wrapped a thick scarf around my neck, stuffed my feet into my boots, and zipped up my coat. Jack was already somewhere outside, likely cursing my name at getting him involved with the town’s holiday preparations. Becky was supposed to meet us soon, and then we’d hike through the farm with me lagging behind working some behind-the-scenes sorcery.
Stepping outside onto the wraparound porch, I blew warm air into my palms to charge up the spells, then slipped on a pair of wool mittens. A few gray clouds hung overhead, giving me the perfect opportunity to cast a brief snow squall.
Strolling through the pine trees while big fluffy flakes fell from the sky seemed like the ideal atmosphere for flirtation. Then when we were finished and Becky had left for the evening, I’d conjure a surprise special delivery containing Jack’s favorite cheese danish.Always leave them wanting more…
It was a throwback, but if the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, it was a good thing Becky was a pastry chef.
Becky’s car pulled down the driveway, and she gave me a cheery wave as she climbed out of the vehicle. She was dressed in an olive green puffy coat and a pair of dark skinny jeans. Her copper-colored hair flowed down her back, and an off-white hat with a fuzzy pom-pom sat on her head. She looked like a heroine returning to her small hometown from the plot of a holiday rom-com, and seeing her caused that odd sensation to tingle the back of my neck again. The one where I wanted to unleash my frustrations on a frozen sculpture.
I forced excitement on my face and returned her wave. “Hey, Becky. Thanks for coming.”
“My pleasure! This was such a great idea. It’s always been a town tradition to display a Bradley Farm’s tree. A few years ago they started using a large-scale distributor, so it’ll be nice to restart the tradition.”
“Was your father okay with it?”
Becky made a face as I joined her on the gravel path that led to the acreage at the back of the inn. “He knows it’s the right thing to do. But I’d be lying if he didn’t grumble about it. I wish everyone would put the past in the past. The accident wasn’t Jack’s fault.”
Accident?Grandma Jean had gone into detail on Jack’s current situation, but she’d been light on his past. All I had were the few notes in his case file. But there hadn’t been anything about an accident. We paused in front of the barn, and since we were still alone, I asked the question weighing on my mind.
“What accident? Was someone hurt?”
Becky kept her voice low. “No. Nothing like that.” She paused and looked over her shoulder. “Since you’re staying in town for a while, you’re going to hear the gossip. You might as well hear it from me. Two years ago, Jack had a falling out with his father over a broken engagement. Honestly, I’m glad the deal fell through. It would have been a marriage of convenience and that wasn’t fair to Jack. He deserves more than the deed to the neighboring land. He deserves someone who can give him everything.” She blushed at her answer and sheepishly let her gaze roam over the barn. Clearing her throat, she said, “Grandma Jean told me once that Jack refuses to go inside the barn ever since he came back. They did a nice job rebuilding. You can’t even tell there was an incident.”
“What happened?” I asked, wishing Becky would stop with the vague accident references and get to the point.
“Well, the reason Jack left was—”
Jack stepped around the side of the barn, a saw slung over his shoulder and his familiar scowl on full display. Becky startled and let out a high-pitched yelp as if she’d stumbled across an angry yeti brandishing a weapon.
I sighed at Jack’s untimely entrance. “Don’t worry about the saw, Becky. You get used to it.”
“It’s a tree farm. How else do you expect me to cut the trees?” Jack grumbled. He eyed both of us and attempted a tight smile. “Ready to get this over with?”
“I think what our rugged farm guide means is, the best trees are that way.” I pointed down the path and waved my two reluctant love birds forward. Jack met my gaze over Becky’s head, and I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. He looked miserable. But that would change once we got going. I planned to rip his romance-averse Band-Aid right off, and I’d start with a little atmospheric snow.
With the two of them walking ahead, I took off my mittens and rubbed my palms together. Magic tingled in my fingers as more gray clouds gathered and the first few flakes fell. The ground crunched beneath my feet, a mix of packed snow and fallen pine needles as I followed them down the trail and into the rows of trees. At first glance, I could see how the farm had fallen on hard times. Many of the trees were overgrown and needed shearing, and some had gaping bare spots that even the largest ornaments couldn’t hide.
But there was also something mesmerizing about the vast field. As if beauty lay in the wild, untamed landscape. With some care and attention, so much potential and future memories remained. It reminded me of why I wanted to become an agent.Miracles happen with love and a little magic.
The crisp air was invigorating, and I breathed it in, feeling recharged from the fresh pine aroma. This was going to work. Already, I felt light-hearted and slightly dreamy as we weaved through the field rich with festive history and family traditions.
“How about this one?” Becky pointed toward a modest pine that was leaning slightly to the left. Its branches were full, so it had that going for it, but it wasn’t what I pictured headlining the town square. We needed a showstopper, and I had to believe there was one hidden further in the back.
“Fine by me.” Jack hefted the saw off his shoulder.
I held up my hand. Regardless of my opinion on Becky’s selection,we couldn’t pick a tree in the first ten minutes! Becky and Jack hadn’t even chatted. All we’d done was walk in awkward silence listening to the sounds of our footsteps. Only the ambiance was top-notch. The flirting was non-existent.
“Wait. I don’t think that’s the one. We should keep looking. We’ll know it when we see it.”
A wistful smile transformed Jack’s features, and for an instant, his gaze softened. He lowered the saw to the ground and rested his hands on his hips. “That’s what my dad always said to customers. ‘You’ll know it when you see it.’ Like there was a specific tree for each family.”
Something warm kindled in my chest as Jack let his guard down. It might be brief, but it renewed my hope. I wandered a short distance away, pretending to search for another tree, hoping Becky might take advantage of Jack’s blink-and-you-might-miss-it vulnerability.
Twirling my finger, I made a rush of snowflakes swirl around her body like a crystal halo. Another spell infused the air with a hint of cinnamon and vanilla—both aphrodisiacs that should increase the chances of evoking desire. Becky’s cheeks were flushed from the cold, and she looked like a snow queen standing among her evergreen subjects.
But she didn’t take the hint.
