Page 17 of Evergreen Christmas
“Let’s not be hasty.” Kandy clapped her hands together and smiled. “Nate didn’t mean anything by it. He was probably just making conversation and watching out for his new neighbor. After all . . .” She glanced around at the lawn chairs in the living room. “Jordynwillneed some time to settle in.” She smiled brightly at Jordyn. “I’d be happy to help you decorate. There’s a wreath at Nate’s gift shop that would be just perfect for—”
“Excellent point, Kandy.” Carol Belle crossed her arms over her chest. “Jordyn does have a lot to do and she’ll need a helping hand to guide her through the Christmas contests.” She pursed her lips. “The rules allow for a mentor for newcomers, and I think any situation involving Nate necessitates one. There are twelve contests and you’ll need someone to guide you through the rules of each—especially the Christmas tree contest.”
Jordyn grinned. “Rules, a mentor, and twelve contests? This Christmas competition must be a big deal for Noel, huh?”
“The absolute biggest, my dear,” Carol Belle said.
“We’ve been managing the contest for ten years now. Ever since . . .” Kandy glanced at Carol Belle, her tone softening. “Well, ever since Carol Belle lost George.”
Jordyn hesitated then asked, “I don’t mean to pry but . . . who was George?”
“My late husband.” Carole Belle’s voice trembled. She looked away and cleared her throat. “George and I grew up together. Right next door, actually. Both of us were headstrong and we fought like cats and dogs when we were kids, but when we got older, that animosity turned to something sweeter.” She smiled. “We married young. Had a lot of good years together. But I lost him to cancer eleven years ago.”
Jordyn winced. “I’m so sorry.”
Carol Belle sniffed and waved away her concern. “Not your fault. Everyone loses someone at some point in life, but I lost George on Christmas Eve, so that made the pain a whole lot worse.” Her chin trembled. “He loved Christmas. Every year, he spent days decorating our lawn and house—inside and out. He always used to say Noel needed a formal Christmas tradition of some kind other than the lighting of the town tree. He said he thought a contest of some sort would lift everyone’s spirits, boost community relations and maybe even bring some of our loved ones home.” She cleared her throat. “Our daughter left home years ago after she and I had a falling out, and she hasn’t returned to Noel since. I’ve never met my grandchild, and now George never will. He loved her so much and used to hope Christmas might one day be the catalyst for her return.”
Kandy reached out and squeezed Carol Belle’s hand. “I lost my husband, too. I was only thirty-three when Carl died of a heart attack and it was quite a shock, so I knew how difficult things would be for Carol Belle for a while after losing George. So one day, Carol Belle and I sat down with Eve and Holly and discussed how we could best honor our late husbands and make Christmas joyful for Carol Belle again.” She met Carol Belle’s eyes and smiled. “The Christmas competition was a hit and grows bigger every year with us Nanas at the helm. When the four of us work together, there’s nothing we can’t accomplish.”
“If it hadn’t been for Kandy, Eve, and Holly,” Carol Belle said, “I don’t know how I would’ve overcome my grief. Organizing the Christmas competition kept me busy and optimistic, and it’s become a well-loved tradition in Noel.” Carol Belle smiled wider as she patted Jordyn’s shoulder. “And you’re going to be our guest of honor this year. Since Kandy is great at motivating others, I’m assigning her as your mentor and will add your name to the sign-up list. Opening day is tomorrow at dusk in the town square.”
Kandy squealed and did a little dance, her pink curls bouncing over her shoulders. “This is so exciting! I’m going to teach you everything I know about getting a leg up on the competition—especially Nate!”
“Oh, but wait just a sec.” Jordyn rubbed her temple, her mind swirling. “I thank you for the support, but twelve contests will take a lot of time and commitment. I wouldn’t want to let anyone down by promising to do something that I can’t carry through with—especially seeing as how the Christmas competition is so special to all four of you. I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize its success. And I still have a ton to do around here. I mean, I don’t even have a bed yet. I’m still using my sleeping bag on the floor.”
“We’ll take care of that right now.” Kandy looped her arm around Jordyn’s and tugged her toward the door. “We pounce on any excuse to shop, and holiday sales just kicked off in Noel. We can shop while your cabin airs out.”
“Do you prefer a storage, adjustable or simple bed frame?” Eve asked, clicking along on her heels behind them.
“Metal or wood?” Carol Belle asked, joining them.
“And what about bedding?” Holly smiled and looped her arm around Jordyn’s free one as they tugged her outside. “Do you like comforters or quilts? Cotton, flannel, or silk sheets? And what type of pattern? Solid, floral or . . .”
Jordyn, her mind swirling, threw caution to the wind, allowed the women to lead her along the driveway, bundle her up in their red Cadillac and start the drive to downtown Noel. It was a welcome new joy to be swept up among the women as though she were one of them, and chances were, if she agreed to sign up for Noel’s Christmas competition, she might even win over more residents of the town.
But winning the Christmas competition for Noel’s Nanas would mean Nate’s tenth Christmas Crown win—and Fabio would have to be sacrificed. And Neighbor Nate would—according to the Nanas—have to become Christmas enemy number one!
Chapter Four
When competing on the circuit, Jordyn always played things straight. She prepared, followed the rules and wished her competitors well. So the day after the Nanas’ visit, a Sunday afternoon and the day of Noel’s Christmas kickoff, she drove over to Frosted Firs Ranch, determined to do just that.
A low whistle escaped her as she reached the end of the long, paved driveway and parked her truck.
White fencing wrapped with deep green garlands, red and gold bows, and white lights stretched as far as the eye could see, encompassing the expansive grounds of the ranch, then disappeared out of view as it bordered the narrow road that ran alongside acres upon acres of lush evergreens growing in perfectly aligned rows below the high peaks of the mountains and the wide, blue sky. A beautiful farmhouse-style building stood proudly at the front of the property and served as a gift shop with an antique red sign etched with the message: DASH INTO AFROSTEDFIRSCHRISTMAS FOR ALL YOUR HOLIDAY DECORATIONS AND GIFTS!
Beyond the gift shop stood several white stables with steeples, two large barns with decorative cupolas, and a breathtaking three-story Victorian farmhouse with a wraparound porch and black metal roof. Every structure on the ranch had been lovingly decorated with evergreen garlands, wreaths, and potted trees and all of it had been trimmed with bright red holly berries, pine cones, and solid and patterned bows in red, gold, white, and silver.
“Talk about a Christmas dream . . .”
Jordyn hopped out of her truck and walked slowly into the gift shop, taking her time to savor the view outside as she went, glancing around at the rural mountain splendor like a child in a toy store. A bell jangled over the door as she entered and a soothing atmosphere of cozy warmth, soft holiday music, and at least fifteen thousand square feet of Christmas decorations, handcrafted toys, and the decadent aroma of rich hot chocolate enveloped her.
“Well, hello.”
Jordyn glanced to her left. A a tall blond man with a come-hither smile stood beside an ornate metal log rack stacked with dozens of bundles of seasoned firewood tied with red bows.
“I’ve seen one of those somewhere before.” Grinning, Jordyn removed the sunglasses she’d donned during her drive over, slipped them in the pocket of her jean jacket and smiled. “You work here?”
The man grinned wide. “Yep. I’m one of the owners of Frosted Firs Ranch.” He sauntered over to her, his swagger surprisingly reminiscent of the cowboys she’d encountered on the rodeo circuit, and held out his big hand. “Tucker Reed.”
