6

By the next morning, Madison was determined to put her concerns over a potential romance between Addie and Gavin behind her. It was simply her tiredness that had taken over her emotions last night. She was stronger than that. In the light of day, she realized how much she loved the tree farm. And she wasn’t about to allow anything to drive her out. Not that easily.

Over the next several days, she fell into a routine of sorts. Madison had learned to appreciate cooking in Mongolia, and having a “modern” kitchen back here in the States made it even more rewarding. She enjoyed fixing oatmeal, muffins, or whatever sounded good for breakfast.

Addie sometimes partook but usually preferred to take a yogurt and coffee to her office. There she would stay for most of the day, assuring Madison she could take care of her own lunch—“so please don’t bother about me.”

While Addie worked in the office, Madison poked around the farm, doing minor repairs and tending to neglected maintenance chores. She tried to ignore the noise next door and distracted herself from thinking about Gavin by keeping busy. After a few days, she began to explore the burn area further. The soil actually looked rich with nutrients left over from the fire, like it was just waiting to be replanted. She was curious about what it would take to start that process, but each time she raised the issue with Addie, she was shut down. Being the newcomer, she still felt slightly intrusive and decided to bide her time for a full week. But by the beginning of October, she could hold back no longer. While Addie filled a coffee mug, Madison broached the subject, determined to be firmer this time.

“We really need to start planting seedlings.” Madison reached for the coffeepot to refill her own mug.

“I already told you, it’s not in the budget.”

“But it’s an investment in our future, and if we start planting along the Thompsons’ border, we can create a natural barrier between us and the motorbike park. It might not keep out much noise, but it could really help hold back the dust.”

“Maybe so, but we can’t do it now.” Addie looked away. “We’d need to wait until spring.”

“But fall is the perfect time to replant,” Madison said.

“Fir trees can be planted any time of year,” Addie called over her shoulder as she hurried for the door.

Madison trailed her. “But Dad and Grandpa always replanted in the fall. Fewer trees will die, and they have a better chance to get established. Plus, we don’t have to irrigate until next summer, which saves on water.”

“Maybe so, but we just can’t afford it right now.”

Madison blocked her sister from going down the porch steps. “I think I can afford it.”

Addie’s brows lifted. “You can afford to pay for trees and labor? On your own?”

“I still have some savings.” Madison moved out of Addie’s way. “I can afford to buy some seedlings. And if labor is too expense, I might just plant them myself.”

Addie chuckled. “Well, feel free, sis. Knock yourself out.”

That wasn’t exactly the answer Madison had hoped for, but maybe if Addie saw that she was serious, she would realize it was a smart business move after all. Then maybe, when they started filling their Christmas tree shipping orders, which had to be coming right up, the cash would start rolling in, and they could purchase more seedlings to plant.

Madison watched her sister head across the yard and over to her office, which was housed in a small cabinlike structure their dad had built years ago. She hadn’t been inside in ages, but she remembered how it was always a mess of haphazard file cabinets and storage boxes and a mishmash of dusty junk. But it was also cool inside, and the pine walls were woodsy smelling. She was tempted to follow Addie over there and ask for help in how to place an order for tree plugs. That was what Dad had called the bundles that came in the fall—tree plugs. The planting always took place after the girls had gone back to school, but Madison had spent a gap year here at the farm before starting college. She’d thought maybe she wanted to be a tree farmer, but the work was harder than expected, and the farm life was pretty boring for an eighteen-year-old. Plus, it was painful seeing Gavin and Shelby and their baby when they visited his parents’ filbert farm from time to time. By the next fall, she was glad to escape the whole scene and head off to college.

She sat on the porch and whipped out her phone to do a quick internet search of Douglas fir seedlings. Just how many trees would it take to plant an acre? To her surprise, tree plugs were surprisingly cheap. Even more so if purchased in bulk. But it could take up to fifteen hundred to fill an acre. And the burn area was probably close to five acres, give or take. That equaled a lot of trees! She did the math for four acres and grimaced. Six thousand trees sounded overwhelming, but she knew the soil in the burn area was pretty soft, so planting shouldn’t be too hard. Especially if she could get some high schoolers to help on weekends and after school like her dad used to do. And so she decided to go for it.

When she called in her order, the woman on the other end hemmed and hawed and made it sound like it would be a long wait before the trees shipped. “Maybe by spring.”

Not disguising her disappointment, Madison explained how they lived in the burn area and had really hoped to get to planting sooner than spring. “Just to keep down the dust, you know?”

“Well now, that might change things. We’re committed to prioritizing the victims of the burn. No one wants to see good soil eroded during winter. Tell me your name and location, and I’ll see what we can do.”

“We’re the McDowell’s Family Christmas Tree Farm.” She listed off the address.

“Oh, yeah. You’re along the river, aren’t you? That gives you a higher priority. Can you hold while I check on a few things?”

“Yes, of course.” While Madison waited, she said a silent prayer, hoping this woman could do something.

“Good news,” the woman finally announced. “We can get fir plugs to you as soon as within a week.”

“Really?” Madison gulped, suddenly remembering how many trees she had asked for.

“My boss was surprised you hadn’t placed an order sooner, but we just had a cancellation, so you’re in luck.”

Madison took a deep breath and, steadying herself, finished her order. Then, questioning her sensibilities, she sat down at the kitchen table. Had she lost it? Depleting her savings by ordering six thousand trees that would all arrive within a week? What was wrong with her?

She remembered what Jeb at the market had said about his difficulty finding workers. What if she couldn’t get help? But didn’t kids need money these days? If she offered this opportunity in Mongolia, kids would be lining up. She decided to go pay the local high school a visit. After all, she was an experienced high school teacher and had even toyed with the idea of substituting. No time like the present to get to know whoever was in charge. Kill two birds with one stone.

The school allowed her to put up her Help Wanted poster and gave her information about certification for substituting. But as she got into her Jeep, she didn’t feel very hopeful.

“Getting kids to work is like pulling teeth these days,” the woman at the front desk had said lightly before Madison left. “Good luck, honey.”

As she drove, Madison wondered how many trees one person could plant in one working day and how much one day would cost her at the hourly wage she was offering, just above minimum wage. She tried to do the math in her head as she drove to the farm but finally realized it wasn’t that simple.

She knew that it would help to plant in soft ground, and it wasn’t that hard to plant a tree plug. But how long would it actually take? She went to the tool shed and found a planting hoe and, although she had no plug to put in the ground, she went through the motions while counting the seconds.

Plunge the hoe into the soft ground to create a slit-like hole, push the small seedling in, then stomp the dirt down around it. She might’ve been optimistic, but it seemed fairly easily done within a minute or less. Of course, she still had to measure to the next hole, keep the line straight, and start over. And people were not machines. But planting fifty seedlings within an hour seemed reasonable to her.

She went into the house, got out a notepad, opened the calculator on her phone, and attempted to figure it out. She tried not to scold herself for not doing her homework first, but she’d always been the girl who jumped first and thought about it later. She finally calculated that fifteen hard workers, putting in an eight-hour shift, could probably get all the trees planted in a single day! Good news, but would she be able to find fifteen willing people? She also knew that if she kept them damp, the tree plugs could live for days outside of the ground, especially in this cool autumn air. Worst-case scenario, if she had no willing workers, it would take her a couple of weeks to plant them all herself. If it didn’t kill her.

She was in pretty good shape, but performing hard labor for fifteen full workdays sounded like a challenge. Still, if she could get just one other worker, they could cut the time in half. And three would make thirds. With this in mind, she decided to pay a visit to the office. Besides everything else she needed to share with Addie, she was getting curious as to what could possibly keep her sister that busy for a full day every single day. No one else had ever spent that much time in the office before. Not only that, but Addie had been a bookkeeper, so she probably did most of her work electronically, which should be a real time-saver. Madison knocked gently on the door. And when there was no answer, she knocked louder.

It took a couple minutes before the door cracked open. “Oh, it’s you,” Addie said with a tinge of irritation in her tone. “What do you need?”

“I need to talk with you.” Madison nudged the door. “Can I come in?”

“Well, I’m in the middle of—”

“It’ll only take a minute.” Madison shoved the door fully open to discover that the office looked nothing like it had before. The pine walls had been whitewashed, making the space appear brighter and cleaner, and the old file cabinets and junk were all missing. In their places were a comfortable-looking cream sofa and a pale blue easy chair. On the wall, a TV that was on. Next to that was a tiny kitchenette area with a fridge, sink, and microwave. On the opposite wall was a tidy desk with a laptop and a small, neat stack of paperwork. On a paper plate by the laptop was a partially eaten sandwich.

“Wow.” Madison went over to peer at what looked like an original painting behind the sofa. “Pretty swanky.”

“Well, Grandma told me to make myself comfortable out here.” Addie grabbed the remote to turn off the TV and put her sandwich in the little fridge before turning around. “Now, what do you want?”

Madison was still trying to recover from her surprise over the old office’s transformation, but she managed to spill out her story about ordering the trees. “The customer service was amazing,” she went on. “We even got an extra discount because we’re part of the burn area. They really wanted to help us.”

“You mean help you.” Addie folded her arms in front of her. “Don’t forget this is your little project, Madison. Not mine.”

“I thought we were co-owners here.”

“That’s true. But this business decision was yours, not mine.”

“So I will own the six thousand trees I plan to plant?”

“Six thousand trees?” Addie blinked. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope.”

“How can you possibly get them all planted?”

“It can be done.” She told her about the flyer she’d posted at school. “And I put one at Borden’s Market too.”

“Right . . .” Addie rolled her eyes. “I’m sure those kids will be knocking down the door just to help you.”

Madison was starting to feel defensive. “Even if they don’t, I can get it done in two weeks by myself.” Okay, she suspected that wasn’t realistic, but for the sake of argument, she wasn’t budging.

“You’re unbelievable. Those trees will probably all die by then. What a ridiculous waste of your money.”

“I can keep them alive.” She crossed her arms. “Anyway, I didn’t come in here to argue. I came to ask for your help. Even if we don’t get any workers, you and I could knock it out in—”

“Forget it, Madison. Count me out.”

“Really? You don’t want a part of this? I mean, sure it’ll be hard, but think about the value. Do the math, Addie. In less than ten years, those six thousand trees will be worth a small fortune.”

“For whoever buys the farm.”

“What?” Madison sank down onto the sofa. “What’re you saying?”

“We have to sell.” Addie sat across from her in the chair, then leaned forward with a serious expression. “It’s our only option.”

“Why?”

“We’re steadily going in the hole.”

“How’s that possible? We still have plenty of trees to sell for this Christmas season. I’ve seen how many are ready. And more that will be ready in upcoming years. Plus, we still have wreaths to make and sell too. I was about to organize the barn for that.”

“Fine, but tell me, who’s going to make the wreaths? And who’s going to cut and wrap those trees? Who’s going to ship them?”

“Haven’t you contracted the tree wholesalers by now like Dad always did?”

Addie ignored her question. “Have you noticed how tall our trees have gotten?”

“Sure, but that’s not a problem. We just cut them higher.”

“The reason they’re so tall is we haven’t cut them the last three years.”

“Oh?” Madison considered this. “Well, what about the U-cut season? People come in from town to buy them. And that’s when we sell wreaths too.”

“The U-cutters were the only thing that brought in money. And there were only a handful of them.” Addie sighed. “But it’s over, Madison.”

“Stop saying that. Dad and Grandma and Grandpa would be—”

“We don’t have a choice.” Addie stood, holding her hands up in a helpless gesture. “We have to sell. The problem is this is a lousy time for real estate around here. Thanks to the fire, too many properties are for sale all up and down the river. Prices are low. I just wanted to hold out long enough to get a fair price. For both of us.”

“But I don’t want to sell. I love the tree farm. It’s part of our family’s legacy. We can’t give it up.”

“We can’t keep it.”

“I don’t agree.” Madison folded her arms in front of her. “I won’t give it up. Not without a fight.”

“And how exactly do you plan to fight, Madison?”

“We will turn a profit,” she declared.

Addie laughed humorlessly. “Right. Don’t you understand that the workforce was scarce enough before, but then the fire came . . . It’s too late.”

“If you and I can work hard, we can turn this around. I’ll find workers somehow. Look how easy it was for me to find seedlings this morning. I just don’t think you tried.”

Addie’s face flushed with anger. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Madison waved her hand around the cushy office. “I don’t know what you do holed up in here day after day, but judging by what’s been neglected outside on the farm, I can tell you’ve done next to nothing out there. That’s not trying!”

“Don’t judge me.” Addie narrowed her eyes. “I was here taking care of Dad and Grandma while you were out globe-trotting and having fun.”

Madison pursed her lips, mentally counting to ten like she would when dealing with a belligerent student. “I appreciate that you were here for them,” she said gently. “It was probably harder than I realized. But this is a new era, Addie. We can bring the farm back if we just roll up our sleeves and—”

“Do as you like.” Addie opened the office door, as in hint hint. “Just don’t expect any help from me.”

Madison didn’t know what to say, so she just sadly shook her head and made her exit. What was wrong with Addie? Why had she given up so easily? Or was there something going on here that Madison didn’t fully understand? Still, what choice did she have now? She could probably call and cancel the seedling order, but that felt like failure. And Madison just wasn’t the type to surrender just like that. Somehow she had to see this through. The tree farm had been born on risks and had made it for almost seventy-five years. They couldn’t give up now!