Evergreen Christmas (Frosted Firs Ranch #1)
Chapter One
B lack Friday in Noel, North Carolina, looked like any other in a small but bustling town: locals milled about Main Street, elbowing their way in and out of crowded stores, snagging the best deals. Couples, bundled up tight against the winter chill, strolled along sidewalks, walking their dogs, holding hands, and smiling. And children of all ages gathered at the front of Teddy’s Toy Store, plastering their noses against the cold glass for a better view of the hot new gadgets and gizmos that were arranged into a mesmerizing holiday display.
But four women, well into their seventies, sitting in the center of Noel’s town square, had stuck their noses into something quite different.
A stranger, whom the four women had been eagerly awaiting for well over two months, had just driven into the close-knit Appalachian community, parked her big white truck and trailer across the street and hopped out, smiling as though she owned every inch of America’s Christmas Tree Capital.
“I don’t like her.” Carol Belle Bennett, self-appointed leader of Noel’s Nanas (a title townsfolk had bestowed upon the four female friends), eased back in the comfy white rocking chair that sat beneath a green banner emblazoned with the words S IGN UP HERE FOR N OEL’S A NNUAL C HRISTMAS C OMPETITION . She crossed her arms over her ample bosom and huffed. “She smiles too much.”
The three women seated in rocking chairs to Carol Belle’s right remained silent.
Carol Belle scowled. “I said, I don’t like her.”
“We heard you the first time.” Kandy Lyons, who still mourned the grave misfortune of arriving late, which meant sitting in the chair next to Carol Belle, tucked a short curl behind her ear and smiled. “But there’s nothing wrong with smiling, Carol Belle. I do it quite often. It’s good for the soul, you know? Makes your body and mind feel good. As a matter of fact, I was looking in a magazine the other day while I was getting my hair colored at Patty’s salon and there was this whole article about things you can do to make yourself feel better physically. A doctor wrote it. One from way up north—you know, like in Michigan or something? Anyway, he had lots of letters listed behind his name. I have a habit of that, you know? Paying attention to people’s names. Like . . . a name can tell you so much about a person. His name was Dr. Kirk Belvedere.” She sighed wistfully. “Belvedere. Isn’t that a fabulous name? It’s the perfect name for a doctor, in my opinion. Strong, rich, sophistica—”
“Oh, please do hush up, Kandy!” Carol Belle narrowed her eyes at the other woman, and the wounded look on Kandy’s face made her think better of her harsh response. But then the mere sight of Kandy’s new hairdo made her temper flare again.
Why on earth a respectable seventy-three-year-old woman would feel the need to dye her hair hot pink, Carol Belle would never understand. Patty Dalton should’ve had the good sense to tell Kandy no and refuse to color her beautiful silver locks that garish shade. It looked absolutely ridiculous—especially at Christmastime!—and Kandy should’ve known better than to go and do such a thing right before their big sign-up day. For goodness’ sake, they had a reputation to uphold and a task of utmost holiday importance to undertake!
Carol Belle frowned. She should let loose and give Kandy an angry earful but she’d always had a soft spot for Kandy. The woman had kept her tender heart and generous—though somewhat na?ve—disposition since childhood which, in a cynical world, Carol Belle knew was a difficult and rare feat.
Kandy had remained a close friend to Carol Belle since they were five years old. Kandy had been widowed in her thirties and she’d stood by Carol Belle through the loss of Carol Belle’s husband eleven years ago. That kind of treasured relationship was one a person shouldn’t take for granted.
“Please excuse me,” Carol Belle said, patting Kandy’s knee. “I didn’t mean to be harsh. I just want to be certain she’s suitable. It’d be disastrous if we made a misstep. What I meant is that the woman smiles very easily for a stranger who just stepped foot in a new town with unfamiliar people. It disconcerts me, is all.”
Eve Knight, seated on the other side of Kandy, scooted to the front of her chair, propped her elbows on her knees and tossed in her somber two cents . . . as usual. “There’s nothing wrong with smiling when you enter a new town. I’d worry more if she didn’t smile.”
Holly Wyld, who’d deliberately chosen the seat farthest from Carol Belle, grinned. “I agree with Eve and Kandy.” She shrugged. “A smile puts others at ease and does a body good. Just look at her.” She waved a slender arm in the direction of the stranger who still stood beside her white truck, surveying her surroundings. “She appears young, healthy, and energetic. And she’s moving to a new town, getting a new home at Christmas. She has every right to smile.”
“And she has a trailer.” Kandy perked up at the sound of hooves clanging on metal. “That sounds like a horse, stomping around in there. Do you think she brought a horse with her?”
“More than likely.” Carol Belle narrowed her eyes, taking a better look at the tall, slender stranger. “She bought that vacant farm, Chestnut Ridge, with the intention of breeding horses. Least that’s what Hal Sutton told me two months ago when he sold her the place. Did you know she bought that land from him over the internet? Paid for it in full without ever even stepping a toe in Noel? Hal said she wanted to snatch it up before anyone else had a chance to buy it but that she didn’t have the time to drive up here. She’s a barrel racer and has been—what do you call it?” Her brow furrowed. “Touring the circuit?”
Eve nodded.
“Well, supposedly she was too busy competing to make the drive and look the place over, which was a mistake, if you ask me.” Carol Belle’s frown deepened. “Hal said they completed the whole real estate transaction via phone, email, and . . . Doom.” She waved a hand in the air. “Or whatever you call that virtual thing people do from home nowadays.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Holly fingered the soft tassels on her cashmere scarf as she eyed the stranger, an excited expression crossing her pretty face. “People buy all kinds of things online nowadays—groceries, furniture, cars, naughty negligees.”
Eve gasped. “Holly, please! A little decorum.”
Carol Belle clucked her tongue. Holly was in no way demure, and her mere presence always seemed to get under Eve’s skin. Eve had always been modest—even as a teen— and Holly’s brazen disposition shocked her on most occasions.
A transplant from Florida, Holly had moved to Noel twelve years ago, struck up a friendship with Kandy and joined the trio of lifelong friends two years after that. Holly came from old money, had decided in her twenties to never marry but enjoyed dating more than anyone Carol Belle had ever met.
Last year, Carol Belle, Kandy, and Eve had made a bet that Holly’s latest love interest, Don Jacobs, would manage to steal her heart and get a ring on her finger. After all, the handsome horse trainer had lasted months longer than any other man Holly had taken an interest in, but the moment Don had tried to persuade Holly into making a commitment, Holly had dropped him like a hot coal.
And Carol Belle had lost fifty bucks. She huffed. The memory still stung.
“A person can barely make it in today’s world without the internet,” Holly continued happily. “Or a cell phone, or Jackpot Millionaire.” She smiled wider. “Mm-mm, I do love the Jackpot Millionaire app! I played this morning on my tablet and won sixty-five dollars.” She waggled her fingers, her elegant French manicure impeccable. “That’s enough to change my nails if I take a notion. What do y’all think of Ruby Red? I think that shade would be perfect for the Christmas season.”
Carol Belle frowned as the stranger across the street walked to the trailer and reached between the slats to pet the horse inside. “She has red hair.”
Eve, surveying the stranger too, raised one eyebrow. “So?”
“Red hair means she probably has a temper,” Kandy piped in, smiling as she twirled one of her hot-pink curls around her finger. “Just like a name, hair can tell you a lot about a person, you know?”
Carol Belle glanced at Kandy’s pink locks and shuddered. “Kandy has a point. That gal has a ton o’ red hair, almost to her waist, I’d say. If she has a temper to match, she may be mighty hard to win over, and we just have to win her over. Otherwise, Nate Reed’ll get the drop on everyone for the tenth year in a row—a whole decade of domination! ”
“It’s all in the approach,” Holly said. “You know what they say—you catch a lot more flies with honey . . .”
Eve exchanged a knowing look with Holly, then lifted her chin at Carol Belle. “And Santa don’t like ugly, Carol Belle.”
Carol Belle scowled. “Why y’all telling me that?”
Kandy, bless her, reached out and squeezed Carol Belle’s hand gently, soothing her stung pride just a bit. “They’re just saying that if we’re going to pull this off, we need to be on our best and most welcoming behavior, no matter what. That notion applies to all four of us.”
Eve nudged her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “Exactly.”
“No offense,” Holly said.
Carol Belle huffed but remained silent.
After a moment, the four took up rocking again, their chairs swaying forward then back in perfect rhythm as they watched the stranger with red hair enter Kringle’s Café—a small coffee shop across the street—then emerge five minutes later with a bright red cup in one hand and a shiny silver bag in the other.
Kandy’s stomach rumbled. “Oh, I’m so hungry! What do you think she got?” She licked her lips, rubbing her hands across her belly. “Kringle’s Café has the best hot chocolate and their red velvet cupcakes are just to die for!”
Carol Belle narrowed her eyes. The wistful look in Kandy’s expression as she stared at the café seemed too intense for dessert. Carol Belle suspected Kandy’s eagerness to visit Kringle’s Café had more to do with the handsome owner rather than with a cup of hot cocoa, and any move on Kandy’s part to pursue Max Reynolds would no doubt set Noel ablaze with gossip. And even worse . . . just might break Kandy’s tender heart.
“Don’t matter what she got in that café.” Carol Belle leaned to her left to see past the couple who had walked into the center of the town square, obscuring her view. “What matters is what she’s got at Chestnut Ridge.”
The other three women nodded then leaned to the left, too, to get a better look at the stranger.
As though sensing she was being watched, the redheaded stranger looked across the street and glanced at each of the four women, meeting their eagle-eyed scrutiny head-on, holding each of their gazes in succession. Then she smiled, tossed her long red waves over one shoulder and . . . winked!
“Did you see that?” Carol Belle pressed her hand against her chest, where her heart thumped wildly. “She winked at us! And it was a sarcastic wink at that.” She smiled full blast, her worries melting away like a mini marshmallow tossed into a blazing bonfire. “Boy, she’s a feisty one! Exactly what we need. She’ll give Nate Reed a run for his money, for sure. Ain’t no way Nate’ll win the Christmas Crown again this year!”
“Good! Now that we know for sure she’s what we’re looking for, how about we take our lunch break a little early? Maybe visit Kringle’s Café for a spell?” Kandy asked. “We’ve already had a ton of people sign up for the Christmas competition and we could just leave the sign-up rosters out for them. They’d know what to do. Then after we eat, we can stop by Chestnut Ridge and introduce ourselves to her.”
“No! No time for a lunch break.” Carol Belle stood. “Let’s go, ladies.” She hustled toward a nearby parking lot and motioned for the other women to join her as the stranger climbed into her truck and cranked the engine. “Come on! We need to follow her. Scope her out a bit more, then make our first move.”
Kandy blinked furiously, her long, false lashes fluttering against her overly blushed cheeks. “But . . . shouldn’t we give her some space? Let her settle into her new home before we pounce on her?”
Carol Belle stopped in her tracks. “Absolutely not! That woman right there”—she stabbed her finger at the truck and trailer as they rolled past, gaining speed and disappearing out of view around the curvy mountain road—“is Fabio Fraser’s new owner. And if she owns Fabio, we need to own her.”
Eve and Holly frowned, protesting in unison, “But, Carol Belle!”
Ignoring them, she spun on her heel and stalked toward a cherry-red Cadillac. “Get a move on, ladies. We got to sweet talk that newcomer into a Christmas war.”
Jordyn Banks knew she was being followed, but at the moment, the four elderly women stalking her in a red Cadillac hardly registered as the overwhelming majesty of her new home dazzled her senses.
“Merry Christmas to you, too, Noel, North Carolina!” Jordyn, squirming in her seat with excitement, laughed as she eased her large truck and trailer around a sharp curve in the winding mountain road.
The small town of Noel, sitting at an elevation well over three thousand feet, completely surrounded by mountains, was far more impressive in person than in the professionally shot photographs she’d pored over for months. Driving through the center of town had been like cruising through a snow globe Christmas dream full of quaint shops, smiling faces and nostalgic decorations. Jordyn couldn’t possibly be more pleased with her decision to move to the charming Appalachian town.
Over the past two years, she’d scoured the internet on her laptop, hoping to find a stretch of land that was not only affordable but that would also offer a potential place to call home. The forty acres of land for sale in Noel listed on Hal Sutton’s real estate website could easily support several paddocks, stables, and an arena, and came equipped with an aged—but ridiculously charming!—log cabin, which consisted of one bedroom, one bathroom, and a small front porch suitable for admiring the mountains that sprawled in every direction.
Chestnut Ridge (as the stretch of land was named) was, in fact, the perfect setup for building her new horse-breeding business and luckily, the price had recently been marked down to below market-value, which suited Jordyn just fine. Having tucked away pennies here and there from rodeo wins over the past seven years, she placed high priority on getting the biggest bang for her buck, but the absolute deal clincher for her had been the beautiful town of Noel and its renowned Christmas splendor.
“Christmas,” she whispered.
What a marvelous thought! To think . . . she —after seven long years of nomadic life on the road—would actually have a home of her very own in a close-knit community full of Christmas nostalgia and hopefully ( oh, hopefully! ) good neighbors who’d adopt her as one of their own.
Smiling, she dug one hand into a shiny silver bag that rested in the passenger seat, pinched off a chunk of red velvet cupcake and popped it into her mouth. The sugary delight melted on her tongue, making her shiver again with excitement as she drove, craning her neck for a better view of the mountain peaks dusted with the barest hint of snow.
Oh, she hadn’t had an honest to goodness real Christmas in . . . well, ever!
Having been removed by children’s services from neglectful parents at the age of four, she’d spent her entire life in foster care, aged out at eighteen and hit the road to tour the rodeo circuit. Her childhood Christmases had usually consisted of simple cafeteria-style meals at youth centers or awkward gatherings in houses with new family who served as makeshift parents for a while, sharing space with their biological children with whom she rarely had anything in common. The foster parents she’d had over the years had done their best to make her feel at home—and she’d had many due to her stubborn behavior—but she’d never felt like more than a number . . . or really loved in any way. Even in her last foster home, where she’d lived for five years, she had still felt like an outsider up to the moment when she left, hopping into her newly purchased used truck, cranking the engine and driving away for a future she hoped would be more welcoming.
Twenty-five years old now, she’d traveled the road, touring the rodeo circuit, for seven years, her only family being Star, an eleven-year-old white mare she’d saved from a fed-up owner seven years ago. A hot, high-powered quarter horse, Star had had the potential to be a champion in the arena, but she was pushy, temperamental, aggressive and—according to those who’d ridden her—had no manners. That alone had been enough to entice Jordyn into taking on the challenge of training the stubborn mare, but the vulnerability she’d noticed in Star’s eyes—a wary, wounded look Jordyn recognized immediately—had sealed the deal. And Star must’ve sensed a kindred spirit in Jordyn as she’d grudgingly allowed Jordyn to lead her through months of training sessions to prepare for their first barrel race.
In the end, Star had a huge motor, was the best at her job and formed a strong bond with Jordyn, becoming a sweet companion who kept Jordyn’s spirits and hopes high during their long journeys on the road. Star had become more than just a horse; Star was her best friend, sister, and only family in the world. And now, for the first time in years, both of them would truly have a home of their own.
Jordyn glanced in the rearview mirror at the trailer she hauled. Star would be ready to stretch her legs by now, and she couldn’t wait to get the mare onto the firm ground of their new land.
“ Your destination is fifteen feet ahead on the right .”
Jordyn slowed the truck at the direction of the voice emitted from the navigation system on her dashboard. “We’re almost home, Star.”
And just then, the winding mountain road dipped and leveled out, revealing the rolling foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, a dirt road leading to the right and a small log house just visible from the road. Jordyn recognized it instantly.
“That’s it!” Jordyn palmed the steering wheel and turned onto the dirt drive. “We’re here, Star. We’re finally here!”
She drove slowly along the dirt road and placed a palm on the top of the red coffee cup in the cupholder, keeping it steady and avoiding potholes. When she reached the log house, she cut the engine, opened her door and hopped out, inhaling deeply and holding the clean cold mountain air in her lungs.
It was a beautiful sight! Sprawling acres of dormant grass, a small but perfectly adorable log home, and impressive mountains in the distance. She couldn’t quite believe she was really here. And though financially broke after the purchase, she had high hopes that Noel and Chestnut Ridge held good things for both her and Star. All she needed to do was build a strong foundation for her new horse-breeding business, find her place among the close-knit locals and hope her presence would be accepted—no. . . welcomed!
That was what she hoped for most of all. To be welcomed into the beautiful town of Noel, to make new friends whom she hoped would one day feel like family. That possibility made the financial gamble worthwhile.
Jordyn clapped her hands and squealed, then jogged to the back of the trailer and opened it, leading Star out of the trailer.
“Ready to check out our new home, beautiful?” Jordyn stroked Star’s neck and smiled as the mare shook her head, her long white mane rippling over her broad neck. “I know,” she soothed. “You’ve been cramped up in that trailer for way too long. How ’bout we take a walk around our new property so you can stretch your legs?”
The low rumble of a car drew close and Jordyn glanced over her shoulder, noting the red Cadillac that had been following her from Noel’s town square. She could just make out the outline of four bouffant hairdos she recalled spotting in Noel’s town square just minutes earlier. For some reason, the four older women sitting in white rocking chairs had taken a keen interest in her the moment she’d arrived. She’d felt their eyes when she’d gotten out of her truck to stretch her legs, and they’d continued to scrutinize her as she entered and exited a local coffee shop for coffee and cupcakes.
It was understandable the women would be curious about her, but she’d hoped to have more time to prepare before meeting the locals. It was imperative she make a good first impression. She needed to do everything possible to blend into the small community and build a successful business if she wanted Chestnut Ridge to become her permanent home.
And she wanted that. Oh, how she wanted to be a part of charming Noel!
Jordyn stroked Star’s nose gently as the Cadillac pulled to a stop several feet away. The doors opened and four women exited the vehicle, clutching their scarves, hats, and coats snugly against their chins as they approached.
One of the women, thin with shockingly pink curls, whispered to the silver-haired lady next to her, “She’s much taller up close. So much taller than I expected.”
“Carol Belle was right,” the lady wearing glasses said. “She sure has a ton of red hair.”
“It’s gorgeous.” A third lady, wearing a cashmere scarf and sporting an immaculate French manicure, smiled brightly at Jordyn. “ She’s gorgeous. And have you ever seen eyes that shade of emerald before? They’re absolutely stunning!”
“Don’t matter if she’s pretty or not.” The fourth woman, a short, stout lady with sharp hazel eyes, moved quickly to the front of the pack and propped her hands on her hips. “What matters is how tough she is.” She stood in front of Jordyn and leaned closer, eyeing her from head to toe along with the three other women. “So, how ’bout it? You tough?”
It was hard to guess exactly what their intentions were and even harder for Jordyn to admit she couldn’t figure them out. During her years of touring the circuit, she’d spent more than her fair share of time in rowdy, smoke-filled bars packed with cowboys oozing ulterior motives, and she could spot trouble a mile away. But the four older women standing in front of her were a complete enigma. One she didn’t particularly want to deal with at the moment.
But . . . these four women were part of Noel—an important part, if their prominent presence in the town square this morning was anything to go by—and it was imperative she make a good first impression.
Jordyn rocked back on her heels and smiled. “I suppose one could say I’m tough.”
The stout woman in front of her, seemingly the leader of the group, nodded slowly. “You do rodeos, right?”
Jordyn’s smile widened. “Yes. I compete as a barrel racer.”
“You’re a barrel racer?” Pink Curls piped up. “Is that your horse?”
The stout woman grunted. “O’ course that’s her horse, Kandy. Who else’s would it be?”
The one wearing glasses nudged her metal frames further up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll remind you, Carol Belle, that Santa don’t like ugly.”
The stout woman, Carol Belle, rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, Kandy. Ask your questions.”
The woman named Kandy elbowed her way in front of Carol Belle, wound a pink curl around her finger and beamed at Jordyn. “What are the rodeos like? You ever get hurt on that horse? How many contests have you won?”
“Forget the contest wins.” The lady wearing the cashmere scarf stepped closer, held out her French-manicured hand and winked. “I’m much more interested in how many cowboys you’ve won over. I’m Holly Wyld, by the way.”
Jordyn shook her hand. “Nice to meet you Ms. Wyl—”
“Holly, please. We don’t stand on ceremony.” She shrugged. “Except for the Christmas Crowning, that is.”
“The Christmas Crowning?” Jordyn tilted her head and smiled. “That sounds intriguing. I’m Jordyn B—”
“Jordyn Banks,” Carol Belle stated matter-of-factly. “Twenty-five-year-old barrel racer. Bought Chestnut Ridge from Hal Sutton over Boom and you’ll be cohabiting with Fabio Fraser.”
Jordyn frowned. “You know quite a lot about me. Although. . . I’m not sure what Boom is or who Fabio Fr—?”
“She means Zoom.” The lady with the glasses stepped forward and held out her hand as well. “I’m Eve Knight. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Jordyn shook her hand, too. “Same here. And may I ask who Fabio Fraser is?”
“Oh, darling.” Holly stroked her cashmere scarf and smiled dreamily. “Fabio’s magnificent. He’s twenty-two-years-old, towers over you, smells divine, and were we to climb him, he’s so strong, he could easily accommodate all five of us women without even a quiver.”
Jordyn blinked, stepped back then frowned. “Are . . . we talking about a man here? Because I bought this place outright and Hal didn’t mention anything about me sharing with a tenant.”
“The detestable man ,” Carol Belle said through gritted teeth, “is your new neighbor, Nate Reed.” She pointed to the left, toward ornate white fencing visible in the distance. “He owns Frosted Firs Ranch next door and has monopolized our Christmas Crown for nine years in a row now. We refuse to give him the tenth! Fabio is our best shot at success.” She ran a hand over her gray hair and inhaled. “Now, as Eve has graciously reminded me, Santa don’t like ugly. So we won’t impose on you any longer. We’ll get out of your hair to let you settle in. We just wanted to introduce ourselves and let you know that we’ll stop by tomorrow with a welcome basket and a proposition of utmost importance.”
Jordyn studied each of the women. They stared back at her, their expressions an odd mixture of curiosity, excitement and anxiety. It was the strangest thing, being scrutinized in the town square, followed to her property and swarmed by four women before she could even set foot inside her new home. But a good first impression was essential, and Jordyn knew from experience that good manners were critical for success in a small town. If she wanted to be embraced by the heart of Noel’s community, she’d do well to get into these women’s good graces.
“Well . . .” She shrugged and smiled. “Thank you, I guess?”
“You’re welcome.” Carol Belle spun on her heel and motioned for the other women to follow her. “Come on, ladies. We need to get back to the sign-up booth. And Jordyn? You might want to go ahead and get acquainted with Fabio, seeing as you’ve got to partner with him on an important mission.” She pointed toward the back of the log cabin. “He’s inches from the property line and Nate Reed is probably slinking around him again already. Guard Fabio with your very life.”
Eve, Kandy, and Holly looked at Jordyn, nodded in unison, then smiled, waved, and followed Carol Belle back to the Cadillac. Moments later, the engine rumbled and Carol Belle turned the car around and peeled out, the four women dashing off as quickly as they’d arrived.
Jordyn glanced at Star, who raised her broad nose, closed her eyes, and savored the chilly breeze sweeping over the foothills. “Well, that was an interesting welcome. Whatcha say, girl? You wanna go to the back of the lot and check out this Fabio thing?”
Star bobbed her head as though in agreement and Jordyn smiled, then led the way around the log house to the back field. The acres behind the house were even more impressive than the front yard. The wide field offered an unobstructed view of the impressive mountain range. But toward the left corner of the lot, a solitary tree—a Fraser fir, if Jordyn guessed correctly—stood well over eighteen feet, its full, healthy branches the richest shade of forest green she’d ever seen.
“Wow,” she whispered, leading Star across the field toward the lone tree. “You must be Fabio Fraser.”
A rich aromatic mix of pine and fresh mountain air drifted over her as she drew closer to the edge of the property line. She tipped her head back, taking in every inch of the beautiful fir—a living embodiment of the Christmas tree of her dreams. And it grew right here in the back lot of her brand-new home.
“Can you believe this is ours, Star?” Brisk mountain wind brought goose bumps to Jordyn’s skin, but her heart blazed warmer than ever as she admired the sight before her and smiled. “Our first, true Christmas tree.”