Page 1 of Deck the Hauls

CHAPTER ONE

DANA

The dark-green branches of the Fraser firs brushed against my jacket as I strolled between them, thermos of coffee warming my hands. This is my happy place. The irony, given my feelings toward Christmas, wasn’t lost on me.

Needles crunched under my boots. The fresh, resinous scent of the conifers filled my nose as I made my way through rows of trees that stretched out as far as my eyes could see. I paused to admire a particularly impressive specimen. Perfectly conical, full and lush, a sturdy, straight trunk that reached seven feet tall. I ran my hand over a branch, letting the short green needles with silvery undersides tickle my palm. This one would fetch a premium.

I sighed. Less than three weeks until Thanksgiving, and then we’d enter my least favorite time of the year. This tranquil oasis would be overrun with locals searching for their perfect tree. I loved the Sapphire Springs community but just not in large crowds hacking into my beautiful trees to celebrate a day I’d rather forget.

I sipped from the thermos, savoring the rich coffee, and turned back toward home. Just enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts.

Outside my cabin, Roz stood next to her beat-up old truck, in a thick navy-blue jacket, brown work pants and work boots, her short blond hair tucked under a navy beanie. Very different to how she looked when she’d taken over the farm earlier this year, in her suit and impractical leather Oxfords. She belonged here now. A twinge of envy tugged at my chest. I’d love my own farm like Roz...one day. But for now, I was happy working with her, saving money, and avoiding thinking too much about my parents’ farm that I’d left behind.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” she asked when I was within earshot.

“Yep. I was just about to get back to cleaning up the corn maze. What’s up?”

“I’ll give you a hand.” Roz opened the door of the truck.

“Can we stop at the barn to grab some wheelbarrows?” I asked as I climbed into the passenger seat.

“Sure.” Roz turned on the engine and started to reverse. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what are your plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas? We can manage without you if you want to go home this year.”

I glanced away. “No, thanks. I’m good. I’m planning to work. ‘The land never rests, nor do the hands that tend it’ and all that.”

Roz clicked the shifter into drive and the truck lurched forward. “It’s seriously no trouble, Dana.”

“I’m fine. I don’t want to go home.” My voice came out sharper than I intended. I wasn’t ready to tell Roz the reason I’d taken the job at Red Tractor Farm almost three years ago or about my relationship—or lack thereof—with my family.

Roz shot me a brief glance. “Well, if you’re staying here, you should definitely come over for dinner on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day.”

“Thanks, I’ll think about it.” Thanksgiving dinner I was open to. Christmas... Well, on Christmas I preferred to be alone.

I locked my gaze on the fruit trees with their browning leaves in the orchard.

“You know, the offer to set you up with internet still stands,” Roz said. “I really don’t like the idea of you being out here alone without it, especially when the cell reception is so terrible. That way, you could at least stream some shows to keep you company.”

“I’m good, thanks.” I liked being off grid, nestled among the firs, unreachable by telemarketers or my family. Cozying up beside the fire with a book on farming was more than enough for me. “Was that all you wanted to talk about?”

Roz cleared her throat. “Remember how a film scout approached me about potentially filming here a few months ago?”

“Yes…” I said as we passed the large greenhouse, still full of colorful amaryllises, anemones and ranunculus, and what was left of the flower fields, with chrysanthemums, pink and purple asters and a few struggling snapdragons, the last of the outdoor crops. Nothing had come of it, thank god.

Roz shifted gears and accelerated. “Well, they called me an hour ago. They went to set up at their preferred location this morning, only to find it overrun with an infestation of bats, so they want to use Red Tractor Farm after all.”

I frowned. “Okay… So what does that involve?”

Surely it’d just be a couple of hours of them filming the outside of some barns and a few tractors, and then they’d be on their merry way. Most of it would be filmed on sets or using CGI, right?

“They’ll begin filming here on Wednesday for a couple of weeks.” Roz pulled up next to the barn.

A couple of weeks? My eyelid started to tic. “When you say here, where exactly?”

“It’s a HolLove movie set on a Christmas tree farm, so the old barn—which they’ll use as a set—and the firs. Don’t worry, I’ve told them they shouldn’t disturb you or film the cabin without your permission.”

My head throbbed. I opened the door and stepped out of the truck. “This is really not a good time, Roz. We’ve got the trees going on sale starting Thanksgiving weekend and all the prep we need to do in the lead up to that, and on top of that, the holiday market.”

“They’ve committed to finishing by Thanksgiving.” Roz opened the barn door with a loud creak. “Look, I know it’s not the most convenient time, and it’s very short notice, but this opportunity is too good to miss. Cash flow is still an issue since all our money’s tied up in the construction, and you know that hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing.” Roz grimaced, presumably at the memory of the bald eagle nest that had forced construction to a standstill until nesting season was over and the gale-force winds in August that shut down the site for a few days. And there was also that time a raccoon broke into the jobsite trailer and shredded all the building plans.