Chapter 3 #2
I shot out my hand as she reached out for a weed.
“Not without gloves. There’s poison ivy and stinging nettles around here.
The last thing you need is a terrible rash.
” I looked around. “Why don’t you spend some time getting acquainted with our firs?
If you look closely, you can see how the needles grow in a spiral pattern and are green and glossy on top, but silvery underneath.
Have a look to see if you can find any cones.
And once you do all that, try to estimate how many needles one of these fir trees has. ”
That should keep her busy for a while.
Emily stood. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Just don’t go too far. Stay within ten trees of me. It’s easy to get lost in here if you’re not careful.”
I settled into a soothing rhythm of pulling out the weeds. It was almost as cathartic as chopping wood. The results were tangible and instantaneous.
As I was finishing up, an ear piercing shriek rang out. I jumped up, my heart pounding. What the hell was going on? I sprinted down the row of trees. Where was Emily?
“Dana!”
Emily’s voice sounded close, but there was no sign of her. Fuck. Roz would kill me if filming had to be cancelled because the lead actress was injured under my watch.
I spotted Emily’s handbag and my blue jacket on a bed of fir needles on the ground. But where the hell was Emily? I winced. I shouldn’t have sent her off by herself.
“Up here!”
My head shot up. What the…?
I caught a flash of red and a glimpse of her pale face. Emily was half-way up a fir tree. Shit. Had she damaged the tree?
I blew out a breath. “What are you doing?”
“There’s… There’s a scene in the film where my character gets stuck up a Christmas tree while trying to put the star on top and needs to be rescued by a firefighter.
Since you were busy waiting, I thought I’d practice climbing.
I don’t like heights so I wanted to check if I could do it… ” Emily’s voice trailed off.
I strode toward her. “Well whoever wrote that scene clearly doesn’t know anything about Christmas trees.
Their branches are definitely not strong enough to climb on, at least not at this stage of maturity.
” It was a miracle she’d gotten as far as she had without the branches snapping under her or poking out an eye.
“Look, I’m sorry that the script isn’t realistic, but I’ve got more pressing things to worry about. I can’t get down.” Emily’s voice increased by a half an octave.
Shit.
I squeezed in between the branches. Ouch. Needles stabbed my exposed skin and a branch pressed uncomfortably against my left thigh.
Holy crap. How Emily had managed to near the trunk, let alone climb up this spiky dense tree was beyond me.
When I reached the base, I studied the branches. I had at least twenty pounds on Emily. “I don’t think I can climb up. The branches may have survived your weight but I don’t think they’ll support mine. But I can talk you through getting down, okay?”
“Okay,” Emily whimpered.
I peered up, squinting to see Emily’s feet and the surrounding branches. “There’s a branch directly below your left foot. It looks big enough to hold you. Lower yourself carefully onto it and keep your foot as close to the trunk as possible.”
Emily shakily stepped onto the branch without it breaking.
“Okay, now for your right foot. There’s a branch just to the left of it that looks pretty strong. Can you get to that one?”
Emily stared down at her feet, giving me another view of her tense face. “I think so.”
As she stepped down, I wriggled to find a more comfortable position. Unfortunately, there was no comfortable way to stand in the middle of a Fraser fir tree with hundreds of tiny needles poking you.
Emily wobbled, sending my heart pounding in my chest. I shot out my arms, but I didn’t like my chances of catching her from my position.
I exhaled as Emily stabilized. “You’re doing great. There’s another branch here you could step onto with your right foot.” I tapped the branch with my hand.
She stepped down again and then once more, until her butt was just above my head.
“You’re almost—”
A loud snap sent my stomach lurching.
Shit.
I reached up, wrapping my arms around Emily’s waist as she dropped down.
The force of her weight sent me keeling back, but I steadied myself just in time.
With Emily’s body pressed against mine, I slowly walked us backwards out of the spiky tree.
Good lord, this is unpleasant. It’s like rolling around on a pin cushion.
I inhaled a lungful of fresh air as we exited the tree. A faint floral scent was clearly discernible. Was it Emily’s hair products, or maybe her perfume? I sniffed the top of her head. Definitely her hair products. Mmm.
What the hell are you doing?
I quickly unwrapped my arms from Emily’s waist, cold air rushing between us.
“Are you okay?” I asked, studying Emily’s face before letting my gaze skim over the curves of her breasts covered in red cashmere and down to her legs.
My interest is purely medical. Emily’s cheeks were flushed and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, but there was no sign of any obvious injury.
She ducked her head and nodded. “Just a bruised ego.”
I chuckled as I caught sight of the top of her hair.
“What is it?” Emily asked.
“You’ve collected some needles.” That was the understatement of the century. It looked like a bird with an affinity for fir needles had nested on her head.
“Oh!” Emily touched her head and her eyes widened. She bent over and dusted her scalp with her hands, sending needles flying. “Is that better?”
A few stray needles still poked through her now mussed hair.
“It’s definitely an improvement… Here, let me.” I leaned and gently slid the needles out of her hair, trying not to think about how good she smelled.
“There. Much better.” I stepped back, our gazes locking.
“Thank you.” Emily cleared her throat, her cheeks still pink. “Is the tree going to be okay?”
I peered at the fir, relieved to have something to look at that wasn’t Emily. “I think so. It was an interior branch that broke, and it doesn’t look like it has created an obvious gap. I’ll grab my saw and cut it off at the branch collar so it’s a clean cut.”
We headed back to where I’d dropped the saw and pruning shears.
“Well, if it doesn’t sell, let me know. We have a family tradition of buying Christmas trees no one else wants, and they usually look a lot worse than this one.”
Okay, I kind of loved that. Although… The tree was massive. Did Emily live in a mansion? “Could you fit it in your house?
“No, but my parents go all out decorating their front yard each year, so I’m sure we could use it as part of their Christmas display.”
Why did it not surprise me that she came from a family of Christmas fanatics?
“What exactly is this movie about anyway?” I asked, as I bent down to pick up my tools.
“My character inherits a Christmas tree farm from her grandparents which she struggles to keep afloat. The local fireman who gets her out of the tree helps save the farm.”
I frowned. “So basically she needs a man to save her?”
We started walking through the firs.
“Well… yes.” Emily pressed her lips together. “But she has a lot of character growth too. I mean, she will, the way I’m performing her.”
I lifted my brow. She didn’t sound convinced.
“Well, even if she doesn’t have a lot of growth, at least the movie is going to push me out of my comfort zone, what with the whole heights thing and the ice skating scene. Although I’ll have to tell them that Christmas trees aren’t actually safe to climb.”
I’d also be talking to Roz about that the next chance I got. The production company better not try to film a scene with Emily climbing an actual tree. It wouldn’t end well for Emily or the tree.
“Ice skating is out of your comfort zone?”
Emily sighed. “Yeah. Do you know any ice-skating rinks around here? I’m assuming there must be, given we’re filming a scene at one. I really need to practice.”
“They set up one every winter down at Dockside Park. You haven’t been skating for a while?”
Emily let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve never skated. But I’m sure I’ll be able to pick it up, right? I rollerbladed as a kid.”
“Um, yeah, probably.” Based on the last hour I’d spent with Emily, she was not the most coordinated person.
I wouldn’t be surprised if she slipped on the ice and broke a leg.
And it wasn’t like the local rink gave supervised lessons.
It was a free for all, small kids hyped up on sugar zigzagging everywhere during the day, and adults with their judgement impaired by hot cider and mulled wine being equally erratic at night.
Emily learning to skate in that environment by herself was a recipe for disaster.
If she injured herself, filming might be cancelled.
Should I offer to teach her?
There’d be Christmas decorations everywhere, holiday music blasting through the loudspeakers, people smiling and laughing, full of Christmas cheer.
A familiar ache returned to my chest and I tightened my grip on the saw.
No. I couldn’t think of anything worse.