Page 12 of Evergreen Christmas
At the sound of an engine, she glanced at the driveway, watching as Nate’s big red truck moved slowly along the driveway and returned to the main road.
Looked like Noel had even more to offer than she’d thought. Though she was eager to get to know Neighbor Nate better, make a good impression on Noel’s Nanas and possibly participate in Noel’s annual Christmas competition, she was rather fond of her new Christmas tree and had no desire to give it up to anyone. And most especially, she didn’t want to cut it down. How could anyone hack down a perfect, living embodiment of Christmas?
But she did want to make a good impression on Noel’s Nanas, become a part of the close-knit community and create a home here. There was no better way to get a jump on that than to participate in the annual Christmas traditions.
Problem was, whom could she afford to disappoint the least? Neighbor Nate, Noel’s Nanas . . . or herself?
Chapter Three
Nate had discovered years ago that chopping firewood was an excellent distraction. Swinging an ax through the air was an antidote to every unwelcome emotion in the human body: anger, grief, regret, frustration—you name it! And it certainly would’ve relieved the unexpected—and unwelcome—desire that lingered within him long after he’d left Chestnut Ridge . . . had his younger brother and daughter not joined him the moment he’d returned to Frosted Firs Ranch an hour ago and picked up his ax.
“So, she had red hair like the Nanas said?” Tucker, hands on his hips and an eager gleam in his eye, stood several feet away and stared at Nate intently. “Was it long or short? Straight, wavy? Or was she wearing a hat?” He grinned. “You know, those barrel racers, they love them some hats. Wear ’em well, too.”
Nate hefted his ax in the air and swung, splitting a log on the low stump in front of him. “It was long. Kinda wavy.”
But it wasn’t totally red. Up close, Jordyn’s hair had a hint of gold in it. Or maybe that was just the way the sunlight had highlighted the long strands. Either way, his fingers had itched to trail through the soft waves. The rays of sunlight cutting through the cold mountain air had cast a golden glow at her back. That’s what had made those long locks of hers attract his attention. He’d never seen a shade of red quite like it before.
“What about her eyes?” Roxie, standing near Tucker, walked across the pile of logs as though each piece of wood were a balance beam, hopping from one log to another each time she reached its end. “What color eyes did she have?”
Nate placed another log on the stump, swung his ax and split it. “Green. They were green.”
A mesmerizing, deep shade of emerald with more tiny flecks of gold. They’d darkened ever so slightly when she’d looked at him, and every time those long thick eyelashes of hers had blinked slowly, it was as though they were casting a sweet, dreamy spell over him. It’d been hard to look away and even harder to walk away from his alluring new neighbor. He didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d arrived at Chestnut Ridge, certainly not the gut punch of desire he’d experienced when she’d opened the door.
No. He hadn’t felt an attraction that intense in a long time. Not since his teenage years when he’d first begun dating and discovered what attraction was all about.
“Her name’s Jordyn, right?” The spark of male interest in Tucker’s eyes was unmistakable.
Nate rolled his shoulders, trying to dispel the tension that knotted between his shoulder blades and burned clear through to his chest at the thought of Tucker taking a shine to their new neighbor. “Yes. Jordyn. Spelled with ay—not ana.”
Roxie smiled. “Oh, that’s neat. I like that.”
Grinning, Tucker rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How old is she?”
“Didn’t ask.” But considering the youthful spark he’d admired in her playful gaze . . . “If I had to guess, I’d say she’s probably around your age.”
“Twenty-five,” Roxie supplied. “That’s how old you are, right, Uncle Tucker?”
Tucker grinned. “Yep, sweet pea. And your dad here is an old man who just turned the ripe old age of—”
“Watch it.” Nate bit back a smile. “I might be five years older than you but I can still pin you down.”
“How tall is she, Daddy?” The wind ruffled Roxie’s bangs across her eyes and she pushed them back with one gloved hand. “Is she a whole lot taller than me?”
Nate smiled. “Yeah. She’s almost my height, save for an inch or two.”
Tucker whistled low. “Leggy, then?”
Grunting, Nate chopped another log. “You’ve got a one-track mind, Tucker. You ever think of moving intelligent conversation to the top of your priority list for a woman and putting appearance at the bottom?”
“What’s a pri-or-ty list, Daddy?”
Nate stilled, the wide-eyed, innocent look in Roxie’s eyes making his cheeks burn. “It’s a . . . well, a priority just means something that’s important. That’s all.” He cut his eyes at Tucker and cleared his throat. “Aren’t you getting cold out here, sweetheart? You could take Tucker up on his offer of some hot chocolate and go warm up inside the gift shop with him.”
And maybe then, he could finish the task at hand without being interrogated by Tucker.
“Nope. I ain’t cold.” She hopped onto another log and grinned. “And I want to hear more about the new lady next door.”
Tucker wiggled his eyebrows. “Me, too, brother. You said she asked about the property line ’cuz she’s planning on adding a paddock?”
