Page 80 of Deck the Hauls

“Keep an eye out for branches jutting out at a weird angle or drooping down, or if the tree looks lopsided.” Dana walked over to a tree a little taller than me. “Like this one—see how this branch is pointing down?” She carefully dusted snow from the branch, revealing where it had snapped.

“Oh no! What do you do now?”

Dana examined the tree. “If we trim off the damaged section, it shouldn’t look too bad.” She pulled out hand pruners, cut off the branch just before the break, and then stood back. “It hasn’t affected its shape or left a gaping hole, so we won’t need to mark it down.”

As we continued inspecting the firs, my gaze repeatedly wandered to Dana in her charcoal hiking pants and a black puffer jacket. She scanned each tree with her brow furrowed in an adorably serious expression.

The damage wasn’t as bad as Dana had feared. A few snapped or bent branches that required markdowns, one tree that had lost three branches and would likely need to be used for wreaths, and a couple that she would pull from sale in the hope that they would bounce back next year. There was also one tree with a large section of bark missing, the telltale criss-cross pattern visible on its exposed trunk. The mysterious creature. Dana sighed and marked that one down as well.

“The trap is a little up ahead,” she said, pointing.

We approached the trap cautiously. I narrowed my eyes. Was that something in the corner? Something gray?

“I think there’s an animal in there,” Dana murmured.

We slowed our pace. A gray animal the size of a cat was curled up in the cage.

“I think it’s an opossum,” I whispered.

“Damn it,” Dana muttered. “They don’t eat bark.”

We seemed to be catching every wild animal on the farm except for the one actually causing the damage.

“Yeah. While opossums can be a pain, stealing eggs and getting into animal feed, they’re handy for getting rid of pests and rodents. I’ve encountered plenty but never trapped one before. I don’t suppose you picked up any knowledge of opossums during your stint as a TV vet?” Dana raised an eyebrow.

I shook my head. “Sorry, no luck there. Perhaps we could quietly open the trap while it’s sleeping and run away?”

We stopped a few feet from the cage. The opossum was still sleeping soundly.

“I can do it,” I said. “You’re probably not up to running.”

Dana’s legs appeared to have loosened up a little since this morning, but she was clearly still in pain.

“Thank you. That would be great, if you’re sure it’s okay.”

I handed Dana the notebook and pen I’d been carrying and cautiously approached the cage. I was a foot away from the cage when an ice-cold sensation hit the back of my neck and dripped down my spine.

I jumped, letting out a shriek. I glanced up in time to see a bird fly off a branch.

Dana sprinted forward. “A gray tufted titmouse knocked snow on you. We get a lot of them around here.”

“It’s gone down the back of my coat and is trickling down my spine,” I wailed as quietly as I could, glancing at the thankfully still-sleeping opossum and jiggling my body.

“Here, let me help.” Dana swooped her hand behind my neck, down under the back of my shirt. The icy sensation reduced significantly as she threw a handful of snow on the ground. Dana walked back around to face me. “There we go. Hopefully that feels a little better.” She dusted some snow off my shoulders and smiled.

The icy sensation vanished altogether, replaced with a warmth that spread across my chest. Dana literally had my back.

My heart thudded as I gazed into her warm brown eyes.

I could just reach out, pull her in a few inches and taste her again, feel her lips pressed against mine. Dana held my gaze and the air crackled with electricity around us. She would kiss me back—I was confident of that.

A loud hiss sent my head jerking toward the cage. Dana jumped.

The opossum was wide awake and glaring at us.

“Holy crap, look at those teeth!” I exclaimed, taking in four long dagger-like fangs amongst countless smaller sharper teeth. I stepped back, bumping into Dana. She put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“I’ve never heard of anyone being hurt by an opossum before,” Dana said. “I’m pretty sure they are all bark and no bite.”