Page 6 of Evergreen Christmas
“No, siree! You keep those grubby Christmas Crown paws to yourself.” Carol Belle motioned toward the women behind her. “Holly, Kandy. Help us up, would you?”
They did, and soon all four women were lined up in a neat, confrontational row, all four pairs of eyes fixed firmly on Nate.
He shifted from one boot to the other, then hugged Roxie against his leg, hoping the four women wouldn’t notice his discomfort. During his childhood, the three women, affectionately known as Noel’s Nanas, had doted on him. Every time he’d crossed their paths, they had patted his shoulders, kissed his forehead, and pinched his cheeks much as they—and Holly, who’d joined the group of women later—had Roxie’s. The women were fun, spunky, and energetic. For as long as he’d known them, he’d enjoyed being around them as much as they had enjoyed being around him.
When he’d turned twenty-one, they’d attended his birthday party and later, his wedding to Macy, showering them both with gifts and attention. And six years ago, they’d even come to the hospital the night Roxie had been born and consoled Nate during his darkest days of grief, cradling Roxie in their arms as though she were their very own granddaughter.
But their outpouring of love and support for him had changed over recent years when his winning streak in Noel’s Christmas competition had continued without fail. Apparently, he had—as Carol Belle had so bluntly put it—a monopoly on winning the Christmas Crown, and she believed it was time he gave it up. She’d even gone so far as to insist he drop out of Noel’s Christmas competition altogether.
Nate admired Carol Belle and wanted to please her—he truly did!—but bowing out of Noel’s Christmas competition was out of the question. He and Macy had begun participating in it ten years ago, shortly after they’d married, and had continued up until her death. Macy had loved every aspect of the twelve Christmas competitions sponsored by the town, but her favorite had been the tree contest. She and Nate had built Frosted Firs Ranch together and lovingly tended to the Christmas trees they’d grown, picking out the best one each year and entering it into the Christmas tree contest. One October, the year before Macy died, one of their eighteen-foot Fraser firs had even been chosen as the White House Christmas tree, beating out other trees from all over the US. Macy had been so proud of their success.
Each Christmas season was an opportunity to celebrate Macy’s memory and help Roxie get to know the mother she’d never met by sharing Christmas memories he’d cherished with Macy and creating new ones that he hoped Roxie would carry with her into adulthood.
No. Bowing out of Noel’s Christmas competition—no matter how much Noel’s Nanas wanted him to—was completely out of the question.
As though reading his thoughts, Carol Belle narrowed her gaze on his face. “You haven’t changed your mind about sitting out the Christmas competition this year, have you?”
Nate sighed. “No, ma’am.”
Carol Belle looked down at Roxie and smiled. “Dear, would you be so good as to go inside and ask your uncle Tucker to bring out a load of firewood for us?” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a set of folded bills and handed them to Roxie. “That should cover the cost of one trunk-load and provide a nice tidy tip for your uncle and you. There’s a sweetie.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Roxie took the money, spun on her heel and skipped toward the gift shop, her long blond ponytail swishing across her back.
“Now that we’re alone,” Carol Belle said, leaning close to Nate, “I feel it’s only fair that I warn you.”
Nate frowned. “Warn me about what?”
Carol Belle smiled, a hint of devilry gleaming in her eyes. “That you have some competition this year.”
“Fierce competition,” Eve said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“And she has red hair and a white horse,” Kandy whispered, grinning.
“And they’re both gorgeous,” Holly said, spreading her manicured hands. “Stunning, actually.”
Nate made a face. “Look, I know what you’re saying makes sense to y’all, but I’m not quite followi—”
“Chestnut Ridge has been sold,” Carol Belle said. “And Fabio Fraser has a new owner. One that we’re going to sweet-talk”—she glanced at her wristwatch—“in precisely twelve hours, into entering Noel’s Christmas competition and kicking your burly butt.”
Nate chuckled. “Now, Miss Carol Belle, I know you think I’m hogging the Christmas Crown, but I honestly don’t mean any harm. I’m simply doing what any good citizen of Noel would do by participating in the annual Christmas celebration that the four of you created. Roxie loves it, Tucker likes it, and I enjoy it on most occasions, so I don’t really see the problem.”
“The problem,” Carol Belle said, poking her finger in his chest, “is that you’ve won the Christmas Crown and the Christmas Tree competition every year for the past nine years. Participation in our annual competition has decreased five percent every year since you started winning. Since you manage a Christmas tree business, everyone knows you’ll have the best tree and that they’ll be no match for you, so some of them give up before they even start. They’d rather not enter than lose for another year in a row.” She huffed. “We cannot grow participation in this competition if the same person wins the Christmas Crown every single year.”
Nate rubbed the back of his neck. “I understand that, Ms. Carol Belle. But I take pride in my work and participating in this competition is important to me and my family. I can’t help it if we just happen to win every y—”
“Well, we’re going to help you out with a loss this year,” Carol Belle stated matter-of-factly. “We’re bringing new blood into the mix—strong, feisty blood—and she has Fabio. You know as well as I do that it’ll be tough to find a tree that’s more perfect than Fabio.”
Yep.Nate nodded. He was well aware of that . . . though he still cringed every time he heard the ridiculous name Noel’s Nanas had bestowed upon the tree. Still, that hadn’t stopped him from taking an interest in the evergreen.
As a matter fact, he’d eyed the impressive tree bordering his property for years, never ceasing to be impressed by its growth and stature. The tree had grown wild into a perfectly trimmed shape all its own, as though God had fashioned it for himself as his very own Christmas tree. Nate had offered to buy it from the former owner of Chestnut Ridge several times over the years, but the owner had always refused, and Nate knew exactly why. Noel’s Nanas had paid his neighbor a tidy sum every year to preserve the tree and allow it to continue to grow until it reached a suitable height for entry into Noel’s Christmas tree contest.
It was a stroke of brilliance for Noel’s Nanas to lay claim to that tree, but it seemed their scheme might not pan out. Chestnut Ridge had been sold and there was a good chance the new owner with red hair and a white horse might be willing to hand the tree over to him if he played his hand right.
The corner of Nate’s mouth lifted. “Seeing as how I have a new neighbor, I ought to stop by for a neighborly visit.”
The four women scowled.
“You watch that, Nate Reed,” Carol Belle said.
