Chapter 5 #2
“Nothing. If we use that rusty old thing, we shouldn’t have any trouble bringing home a good-sized rhododendron.”
“I wasn’t planning to chop down a California redwood.”
“But I want something a bit larger than a poinsettia.” She grabbed an axe and headed for the door.
He paused, then followed her out of the barn. “Are you always this difficult to get along with?”
Dragging the sled along behind her in the snow, she turned and said, “There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s you.”
“Right,” he growled.
Shelly realized that she was acting like a shrew, but her behavior was a defense mechanism against the attraction she felt
for Slade. If he was irritated with her, it would be easier for her to control her own feelings for him.
“If my presence is such an annoyance to you, I can walk into town.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“She crabs at me about cutting down rhododendrons and I’m silly?” He appeared to be speaking to the sky.
Plowing through the snow, Shelly refused to look back. She started determinedly up a small incline toward the woods. “I just
want you to know I can do this on my own.”
He laid his hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. “Shelly, listen to me, would you?”
She hesitated, her gaze falling on the long line of trees ahead. “What now?”
“I like the prospect of finding a Christmas tree with you, but if you find my company so unpleasant, I’ll go back to the house.”
“That’s not it,” she murmured, feeling ridiculous. “I have fun when I’m with you.”
“Then why are we arguing?”
Against her will she smiled. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Friends?” He offered her his gloved hand.
She clasped it in her own and nodded wordlessly at him.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, just how big a tree were you thinking of?”
“Big.”
“Obviously. But remember, it’s got to fit inside the house, so that sixty-foot fir straight ahead is out.”
“But the top six feet isn’t,” she teased.
Chuckling, Slade draped his arm across her shoulder. “Yes, it is.”
They were still within sight of the house. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to cut down something obvious.”
“How do you mean?”
“In years to come, I don’t want to look out the back window and see a hole in the landscape.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve got a whole forest back here.”
“I want to go a bit deeper into the woods.”
“Listen, Shortcake, I’m not Lewis and Clark.”
Shelly paused. “What did you call me?”
“Shortcake. It fits.”
“How’s that?”
His gaze roamed over her, his eyes narrowing as he studied her full mouth. It took every ounce of control, but she managed
not to moisten her lips. A tingling sensation attacked her stomach, and she lowered her gaze. The hesitation lasted no longer
than a heartbeat.
His breath hissed through his teeth before he asked, “How about this tree?” He pointed to a small fir that barely reached
his waist.
She couldn’t keep from laughing. “It should be illegal to cut down anything that small.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“That tree over there.” She marched ahead, pointing out a seven-foot pine.
“You’re being ridiculous. We wouldn’t be able to get that one through the front door.”
“Of course we’d need to trim it.”
“Like in half,” he mocked.
She refused to be dissuaded. “Don’t be a spoilsport.”
“Forget it. This tree would be a nice compromise.” He indicated another small tree that was only slightly bigger than the
first one he’d chosen.
Without hesitating, she reached down and packed a thick ball of snow. “I’m not willing to compromise my beliefs.”
He turned to her, exasperation written all over his features, and she let him have it with the snowball. The accuracy of her
toss astonished her, and she cried out with a mixture of surprise and delight when the snowball slammed against his chest,
spraying snow in his face.
His reaction was so speedy that she had no time to run before he was only inches away. “Slade, I’m sorry,” she said, taking
a giant step backward. “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to hit you. Actually, I was aiming at that bush behind
you. Honest.”
For every step she retreated, he advanced, packing a snowball between his gloved hands.
“Slade, you wouldn’t,” she implored him, arms wide in surrender.
“Yes, I would.”
“No!” she cried, and turned, running for all she was worth. He overtook her almost immediately, grabbing her shoulder and
turning her to face him. She stumbled, and they went crashing together to the snow-covered ground.
His heavy body pressed her deeper into the snow. “Are you all right?” he asked urgently, fear and concern evident in the tone of his voice as he tenderly pushed the hair from her face.
“Yes,” she murmured, breathless. But her lack of air couldn’t be attributed to the fall. Having Slade this close, his warm
breath fanning her face, was responsible for that. Even through their thick coats she could feel the pounding rhythm of his
heart echoing hers.
“Shelly.” He ground out her name like a man driven to the brink of insanity. Slowly he slanted his mouth over hers, claiming
her lips in a kiss that rocked the very core of her being. In seconds they were both panting and nearly breathless.
Her arms locked around his neck, and she arched against him, wanting the kiss to go on and on.
“Shelly . . .” he said again as his hands closed around her wrists, pulling free of her embrace. He sat up with his back to
her. All she could see was the uneven rise and fall of his shoulders as he dragged in air.
“Don’t worry,” she breathed in a voice so weak that it trembled. “I won’t tell Margaret.”