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“Dr.Franklin, actually. I am so sorry, but I am the bearer of bad news,” he said. “I was your grandfather’s GP and I just got the call from the hospital. David Bennett, has passed.”
Laura stumbled as the words hit her, and she staggered to her living room, falling into a chair. “He’s dead? How?”
“The ER doctors said it was almost instant,” Dr.Franklin said soothingly. “I was trying to reach you earlier, but your phone wasn’t on?”
“Yes, I… I’m a lawyer,” Laura said as if that explained all. “I had my phone turned off.”
“I understand,” Dr.Franklin said. “I do the same when I’m working. David talked about you often when he’d come in for his checkups. He was quite proud of you, and all you’ve done with your life since leaving the Rockaways. I understand that you’re his only family?”
Laura nodded, tears stinging her eyes.
“Yes. I… I haven’t been a very good granddaughter.”
“Nonsense, I’ve been a doctor for longer than you’ve been alive,” Dr.Franklin replied. “He understood, and was always happy to see and talk to you whenever he could.”
Laura cleared her throat, and wiped her eyes. “Thank you.”
“I don’t want to be insensitive here,” Dr.Franklin continued, “but the hospital called me… there are some things that need to be taken care of now that David’s gone. Do you have arrangements already made?”
“I’m the executor of his will.” Laura laughed hollowly. “Side benefit of having a lawyer for a granddaughter.”
“I see. Well, if you wish?—”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Dr.Franklin.” Laura’s emotional defenses dropped into place. She was a lawyer, and lawyers had to be detached, at least temporarily. “And I’ll be back in Colorado by tomorrow night.”
“I understand. Again, Miss Bennett, I’m very sorry for your loss,” Dr.Franklin said. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Dr.Franklin” Laura hung up. Laying her phone aside, she looked up, and let the tears flow.
She’d go back into business mode after a good cry.
CHAPTER 2
ETHAN
The morning wind whistled through the trees, coming off the higher, already snow-capped mountains to the west and making the collar on Ethan Carter’s flannel shirt ripple. It wasn’t quite cold yet, at least not by Rocky Mountain standards, but he was glad for the warm thermos of coffee waiting for him inside the modified container hut that was his sales office. While he wished he had something more luxurious, it was the nature of the business. Christmas trees grew where you planted them, and didn’t grow fast enough to not have some kind of mobile office if you wanted to do live tree sales.
Still, it wasn’t too bad. His office was better than some of the others he’d seen, with insulated walls, a nice window to let in sunlight, and best of all, an air conditioning unit that was a lifesaver during the hottest days of July and August. Those days were, of course, in the past for now, and as he hung the Christmas wreath with its black memorial ribbon wrapped around it on the door, he cleared his throat.
“You’ll be missed, old man,” he told the wreath.
He’d known David Bennett for over a decade. The next few days were going to be hard. Sure, David hadn’t been around thefarm as much over the past couple of years, the man was eighty-one years old and enjoying his well-deserved retirement. He had stayed in the area, living in his family home and staying active in the community. Most importantly, he would drop in regularly to check in on Ethan, to help out, and sometimes just to hang out and shoot the breeze.
He was the father than Ethan never had.
That was why, more than ever, Ethan was motivated about this holiday season. Davidlovedthe holidays. You could see it building within him, starting from Halloween, where he routinely gave out the best treats in all of the Rockaways, up through Thanksgiving, where it was all turkey all the time for an entire week. David never got tired of it. But nothing topped Christmas.
Sure, part of it was because he owned a Christmas tree farm. No Christmas spirit, no tree sales. No tree sales, no money. But that wasn’t what motivated David, and it wasn’t what was going to motivate Ethan.
He grabbed the four signs he’d made that directed customers from the main road up to the office and the live lot. Each year Ethan had to adjust them, repainting over the distances.
Ethan just gotten the third of the signs, which said that the tree lot was a quarter of a mile up the road, when he saw something that shocked him, David’s old Chevy pickup coming up the road. It was unmistakable, there weren’t that many old S-10s still on the road, even fewer in forest green, and only one that Ethan knew of that sported a ridiculously chromed out brush guard bumper on the front. He’d bought it on a severe discount, because he didn’t care if the truck looked silly. All he cared about was that the truck had a brush guard.
For half a second wild hope leaped in his heart. Had Doc Franklin had been wrong? Had the hospital been wrong?
It wasn’t David. The silhouette of the person driving was nowhere near large enough, and as the truck passed by, Ethan was sure he saw a flash of long, blonde hair. The driver didn’t slow down, though, so Ethan turned and started up the road at a brisk walk, figuring that whoever was driving the truck could probably wait a minute or two if his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
The truck was waiting for him when he got back to his trailer, but the driver was nowhere to be found. Taking a deep breath, he hollered, “Hello? Hello!”
