13. Lake
13
LAKE
“ Y ou don't think it's weird?”
“What?” Beau says, his coffee suspended in air as he looks at me with an annoyed expression, the crisp mountain air settling me in a way I haven’t been all week. I belong here, and as long as I can still put my boots on, I won’t feel like I’ve worked a day in my life.
“Me and Pen.”
“What about it?”
“She kissed me… more than once. You don't think it's weird?”
He sighs, scuffing his boot against the ground. “You're the only one who never saw this coming.”
He says the words like they should be obvious, as if Pen hasn’t been involved with someone for ten fucking years.
“What?”
“She was getting married and she probably was going to get divorced.” I gape at my brother but he just rolls his eyes. “Anybody who’s been around you two for more than five minutes can see it. Why she kept that fuckwad around for so long is anyone’s guess.”
“It’s a big deal, Beau, and you haven’t even asked how she’s doing.”
“Why do I need to ask when I know Wren’s seen her, you’re smothering her, and she just got back from closing her life down in Bozeman and seeing Indie?”
“How do you know she saw Indie?” I ask, ignoring the rest and letting my lips curve up, knowing it’ll piss him off.
He opens his mouth to answer but our father calls his name, and with a curse muttered under his breath, he turns and walks away. It’s just as well, because I need to get my head in the game today.
The Wintervale Tree Farm feels like a second home, and like the rest of my family, I live for the holiday season. We’re not just selling trees—we’re creating memories, traditions, celebrating engagements, family pictures, and more.
And I love every second of it.
Harlan Frost, our newest seasonal hire, stands at our makeshift breakfast bar, and knowing we have a long day ahead, I join him and grab a coffee.
“Hey man,” I greet him and am rewarded with a short hey. The guy is more than a little closed off, the details of his departure from a ranch in Wyoming lacking at best, but he works hard. Murmurings among the staff is that he’s here early and stays late, and that kind of dedication would serve us well from a full-time employee.
“He lives!” my youngest brother, Jesse, says dramatically, pulling me from my thoughts as he joins us at the table.
“Hilarious,” I reply, steeling myself for the razzing that will undoubtedly unfold.
“What? You took off with the bride and have been holed up God knows where for more than a week.” He grins. “I was worried.”
“No, he wasn’t. He won the bet; he just wants to gloat,” Beau says loudly as he comes back in the room and pours himself another cup of coffee.
“I would never.” Jesse’s voice is filled with faux indignation as he places his hand on his chest.
Typical.
“I can’t believe you’d bet on the wedding,” I grunt disbelievingly. “How much did you win?”
“Two hundred bucks.” Beau’s expression is almost gleeful as my mouth falls open.
“You guys bet two hundred dollars on Pen not getting married?” I manage as Jesse shakes his head.
“Of course not.”
“We bet two hundred dollars that the wedding wouldn’t happen and that you’d swoop in to be her knight in shining armor. Buy-in was fifty each,” Wren says, wrapping her arms around my waist and making it nearly impossible to be mad.
“You guys are the worst,” I grouse before kissing the top of her head.
“That’s why you love us,” Wren says before shifting her focus. “And you must be Harlan the hottie. I’m Wren. It’s nice to meet you.”
Harlan’s expression goes from skittish to alarmed, his gaze bouncing between us like he realizes he can no longer just fade into the background. I’d feel bad for him, but if he was a ranch hand, he can definitely handle my sister.
Probably.
It only lasts for a minute, the lot of us all jumping in before it’s time to start the day, the banter lifting my spirits.
“Welcome to the Wintervale fam, Harlan. If you stick around this will only get worse,” I tell him.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” he murmurs before hightailing it out of there and leaving me with a smile I can’t seem to wipe off my face.
Time to sell some trees.