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John plowed through the hordes of jolly people, grumbling apologies as he headed for his ATV.
What the heck is wrong with you? He silently berated himself. One glance at a pretty face, and you’re toast. Done. Scorched and burned. Stay away from women, bro. Focus on the mission.
He shook his head and muttered a curse.
His hungry male body had decided to freak out two seconds after he’d doused the poor woman in hot coffee. To top it off, he’d hopped on the landmine of her husband. Way to go, dude. Make a kid sad.
He fired up the noisy machine and sped off toward the fields to get back to what he was good at. Tagging and cutting trees, lifting things, carrying stuff. Grunt work. Not giving away merchandise to beautiful women with shiny reddish-brown hair and expressive hazel eyes.
But damn if Heather Murphy didn’t have a kick-ass combo going on. Petite and thin, yet curvy in all the right places. Plus, she owned her own business, a bookstore no less. Gotta have brains for that. His mind wandered to the way she’d tilted that sweet, heart-shaped face when he spoke to her kid. Proud mama, right there. Nice. He liked that.
He made a mental note to ask his father about the woman and her situation. Not that it was any of his business.
Don’t do it, the tiny voice in his head warned. Haven’t you had enough trouble with women?
Arriving at the clearing considered base camp for the fields, John parked his ATV and headed over to the field foreman of the day. Ned Parker, an old high school buddy he’d hired last minute.
“Gonna take this group down to the barn area and bring up the next load,” Ned told him. “You got time to help with the taggin’ and the cuttin’?”
“That’s why I’m here,” John replied, eager to burn off some steam. He watched everyone climb onto the open trailer and find seats on hay bales. Then he plastered on his best fake smile and waved the happy group off before grabbing a saw. Whole holiday experience. Pops was right.
The scent of pine was everywhere—sharp, sweet, and refreshing—as he trekked through the columns of lush evergreens. Tiny winter birds fluttered between the trees. It was a pristine December morning, cold but sunny. Ideal to kick off the holiday season.
He smothered a grin as he listened to telltale bits of the conversations of shoppers. Too skinny. Too fat. Tall, short, plump. Standard tree buying lingo. Do you think we’ll get it through the front door? Or his personal favorites...Won’t the cat chew it up or the dog pee on it?
Laughter bubbled up in him.
In the end, he and his team would find something for every taste.
John worked for half an hour, tagging, cutting, and netting trees before loading them onto farm pickups for transport down to the buyer’s vehicles. He was just about to assist an elderly man and woman when he spied Heather Murphy and her daughter, stepping off a newly arrived hayride.
How could I miss the mother-daughter duo with the matching hair?
They looked happy yet confused as they wandered around the first couple of rows of trees.
A split-second decision had him signaling one of the other guys to help the older couple. With a sigh of resignation, he made his way over to the woman who intrigued him.
Heather’s eyes connected with his across the clearing, and they widened when he approached. Color flooded her pretty cheeks, yet she squared her chin, and said, “We meet again, Mr. Gridley.”
“Just John, remember?”
“Hi, John.” Hailey gave a little wave, totally at ease with the big man, as if they were old friends. “Are you going to help us cut our tree? Mom said we could now that she doesn’t have to do it.”
“You bet. Point the way, boss. There are lots more trees further in.”
The girl ran ahead, leaving them to follow.
“She’s excited,” Heather explained. “She doesn’t remember much about the last time we cut our own Christmas tree, just that it was special.”
John glanced her way, noting a hint of sadness on her face. He couldn’t help asking, “So...it’s been a long time since you visited the farm then?”
“We’ve come every year, for the past four, but we pick a tree that’s already cut.”
“Because you’re not strong enough?” he kidded.
She gave him a saucy grin. “I’m plenty strong. That’s just the story I tell Hailey. Truth is it makes me sad. We always cut our own tree when my husband was alive.”
A lead weight dropped into John’s gut. He slammed to a halt. “I’m sorry. Me and my big mouth.”
Heather paused and shook her head. “Don’t be. You couldn’t know.” She started walking again.
John followed in silence, mulling over what she’d shared. “How long has it been then? Tell me to shut up if you want.”
“It’s okay. Makes it easier when I can talk about it. I try not to in front of Hailey. My husband went blessedly quickly five years ago. Only a few months after his diagnosis. Thankfully, Hailey doesn’t remember much. David passed right before Christmas, and he made me swear I would make it nice for her. Always.”
“Sounds like a good man.”
“He was. Very much so.” She put on a brave face when they caught up to her daughter, the girl singing a Christmas carol and bouncing between increasingly larger trees. “We moved here shortly after to get a fresh start. Dickens seemed like the perfect place, especially for the holidays.”
“And how do you like Dickens the rest of the year?” he jumped to change the subject. “I grew up in this quirky little town where everyone knows your business.”
Heather chuckled. “Your father is quite proud of you. He carries a picture of you in his wallet from when you first joined the military. He shows everyone.”
John blew out a long breath. “That was a very long time ago. No wonder you didn’t recognize me. I was a skinny kid back then.”
Heather awarded him a brilliant smile, making John wish she’d do it more often. Something about her eased the rough edges of the day.
“I’m sure Tom is happy to have you home,” she continued in a light tone. “I heard what happened with his foreman.”
“I forgot how quickly bad news travels here.”
“All news, honestly,” she said with a sympathetic look.
“I found one, I found one,” Hailey cried, halting their conversation.
“How tall is your ceiling?” John asked as he and Heather considered the large pine the girl had singled out. “This one’s pretty big, about an eight-footer and full.”
“We live above the bookstore. One of the old brick buildings downtown. The ceilings are high, maybe ten feet in the living room?”
He waited as she did the obligatory walk-around and deliberation with Hailey.
“Sweetie, it’s going to take up the entire living room.”
“But Mom...”
“We don’t even have enough lights or ornaments.”
“But it’s the perfect Christmas tree. Please...”
John smothered a grin. Jeez. Generals have it easier than moms, trying not to disappoint their kids.
Heather ultimately conceded, and she came to stand before him. “If you’d do us the honor of cutting, Mr. Gridley.”
He went straight to work, tagging the tree and cutting the trunk in just the right place. He could feel the ladies’ eyes on him as he sawed the thick base. Then he hoisted it up and led the way back to where a truck waited.
“You’re lucky, Mom,” he overheard Hailey saying. “John is really strong. Did you see those muscles?”
Heather coughed. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, did you at least see the tattoos on his neck? They’re hidden under his scarf, but I saw them when he was cutting.”
The woman choked and giggled. “That’s very astute of you, Hailey. Let’s not talk about that right now, okay?”
“Okay, but you should definitely look.”
John guided their prized tree though a netting machine and then hefted it into the bed of a truck. “Head on back to the barn when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you by your car.”
“Oh...okay,” she stammered.
***
HEATHER HELD TIGHT to her overjoyed daughter’s hand as she sank into a sea of turbulent emotions. What was I thinking? Not only did we cut a fresh tree this year—like a huge freakin’ tree—but a hunk of a guy helped us do it.
The past four years, they’d bought a small tree, one they could wrestle up the staircase themselves and get the lights on without much trouble. Considering her tiny car parked behind the barn, she inwardly groaned. Now what? Is that tree even going to fit on my roof?
Her thoughts wandered further into dangerous territory. John Gridley certainly is strong. Hell yeah, Mama noticed those broad shoulders and muscular arms. Not to mention that tight butt in faded jeans. But tattoos on his neck? Dear Lord. She couldn’t tell if that detail excited her or scared her to death.
David had been a good-looking man, fair-haired, trim, in good shape. But he’d also been an intellectual, an engineer that grew up loving city life. Their home had been a large colonial in the suburbs with manicured lawns and apple trees. Somehow this rugged mountain of a man felt like the polar opposite of the only man she’d ever intimately known. Yet, whether she wished to acknowledge it or not, her body’s reaction to the virile stranger was swift and powerful.
The sudden urge to sequester herself in the bookstore—to claim she had way too much work to even think about anything else—hit her like a proverbial ton of bricks.
All too soon, they were back in the crush of happy holiday shoppers, and she spied the man on her mind, heading toward where her little car waited. She and Hailey exited the hayride and hurried to follow him around the barn.
John was standing with his big arms crossed over his broad chest, looking like a disgruntled lumberjack as he surveyed her car. “We have a problem, Houston,” he said in a deep, husky tone. One sooty brow arched, making him appear devilishly handsome. “What? You were expecting a Christmas miracle?”
Heather sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. “I was caught up in the moment?” she suggested with a sheepish look. She considered the massive tree once again. “Hailey, maybe we should—”
John held up a hand. “We can deliver it tomorrow. We close at three on Sundays.”
“But I—”
“No buts.” He looked at Hailey. “This little lady picked the ‘perfect Christmas tree,’ and Gridley Meadows Farm will make sure it gets to her home safe and sound.”
Hailey cried, “Yay,” and he grinned.
“But I can’t ask you to do that. Someone will have to make a special trip, and—”
“I’ll do it,” he stated flatly. “I’ve been wanting to get a new book, something to keep me occupied at night. Just point me to the history section in your store, and I’ll deliver your tree. No charge.” He plowed on, giving her no chance to decline. “Do you have a big enough tree stand?”
“I don’t know. I believe so.”
He yanked the tag from their tree, handed it to her, and wrote a new tag with the name Murphy on it. “Take that one inside and pay Wendy. I’ll attach this new one and store your tree until tomorrow.”
“You’ll keep it safe, right? You won’t give it away or let someone steal it?” Hailey’s pink bottom lip puffed out. “I just lost my cat. I can’t lose my perfect Christmas tree.”
“That’s it,” John exclaimed. “I thought I’d seen you somewhere before. You were hanging posters in town.”
“Yeah. My cat, Snowball, ran away. But I didn’t see you.”
Heather pulled her close and wound a supportive arm around her shoulders.
“I was in my car, just arriving.” John focused on the worried girl. “I had a dog run away once. Turns out he had a dog friend about a mile away. Made his way home when he was done visiting. Maybe Snowball will come back to you the same way.”
“I hope so.” Hailey released a sad sigh. “She was a stray when we found her, and I know she likes to be outside. But I still miss her. I wish she would come back.”
John set the tree aside and dropped to one knee. In a steady, low voice, he said, “I know, sweetheart. Don’t give up hope.”
“Okay, John.”
He stood and faced Heather, who could barely breathe after witnessing the tender moment. The man wasn’t as tough as he appeared.
“Give Wendy your address when you check out.” He hoisted their tree as if it weighed nothing and began to march away. Calling over his shoulder, he added, “Give her your phone number, too, in case anything changes. I don’t want to let you down.”
He paused unexpectedly and spun to face Heather again. Their gazes locked and held as the world around her seemed to fade away. John said nothing, merely smiled. And a million butterflies took flight in her stomach.
“See you tomorrow, John Gridley,” Hailey called after him. She turned to her and said, “He’s a very nice man. I like him.”
Unaware, she drove the reality of their next encounter home to her mother’s shaken yet hopeful heart.