Chapter 9
one horse open snowmobile
Holly
Holly stared at the windshield crack stretching like a jagged fault line across the glass. Snowflakes landed and melted on the edges, refracting tiny shards of light. The longer she stared at it, the more it seemed to creep outward, making it impossible to ignore.
Ridiculous that it bothered her so much. But there it was, right in front of her face, spreading.
“What happened to your windshield?” The words escaped before she could stop them.
Ivar’s brow furrowed. “Sorry?”
“Your windshield,” she clarified, wincing inwardly. Her tone came out sharper than intended. “The crack. It’s spreading.”
He glanced at it, then back at the road. “A rock hit it on the highway. Before I could get it fixed, it ran.”
“How long are you going to wait?” Another wince. “I mean, is it safe to drive with it like that? Can you even get it fixed around here?”
His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “We don’t have a specialized glass shop in town. The garage ordered a replacement, but it takes a while. I was supposed to take it in today.” He paused, giving her a quick glance. “Then my schedule changed.”
Holly’s cheeks warmed. Right. Because of her. “Oh. Well, thank you.”
“It’s fine. I’ll drop it off when we get back, and it will be fixed by morning.”
She nodded and stared out the window, feeling small. “I wasn’t trying to criticize. I just... well, I’m a bit of a perfectionist. My sister calls me—” She almost said ‘Spreadsheet Santa.’ “Spreadsheet Holly. Others agree with her. Hence, this trip.”
Ivar cut her a sidelong glance. “You were told to take a break.”
“Something like that.”
“So you like this kind of thing? Forests, snow, hiking?”
She gave a small laugh. “Not lately. I used to. As a kid.”
“What changed?”
“Work. Priorities.”
“But if you used to love it then…”
“I used to love a lot of things,” she said softer than intended.
He let it drop, and for a moment the only sound was the hum of the engine.
"I'm also cutting back on caffeine," she blurted, still embarrassed over the cracked-windshield interrogation. "So if I sound cranky, that's why. I promised my assistant I'd use this trip to quit espressos. Out of the office and away from the machine, it seemed doable. In theory."
Ivar's mouth curved. "I never noticed. But if I'd known sooner, I'd have filled the thermos with something other than coffee."
"It's fine. Regular coffee's fine. So are lattes. Just not those strong, flavorful shots of liquid gold."
He chuckled.
"What?"
"You really do have a problem, don't you?"
"Perhaps. Yes." She cleared her throat, eager to move on. "So, are there a lot of trails on this property?”
“Plenty. The Hale family never posted the land. The town owns about a hundred acres of forest. State forest borders it to the south, and the Hale land runs along the west and north edges. Trails weave through it all. People bike, ski, snowshoe. There’s something for every season.”
“You make it sound idyllic.”
“It is. That’s why everyone’s worried about the sale.”
“I imagine so.” She shifted in her seat. Too bad she couldn’t tell him the truth. Even if her family built a site, no one would ever see it, and most of the forest would remain open to the town.
The truck bounced as they turned down a narrow, snow-packed road.
When they finally stopped, Holly stretched, easing the stiffness from her legs.
“I should be clear about my objectives today. I need to assess the property systematically.” She tapped her tablet.
“I’ve developed a grid pattern for our exploration that should maximize efficiency.
Just tell me our coordinates so I can plot them on the map. ”
Ivar’s jaw tightened slightly. “With all due respect, that’s not how this forest works. The land has its own logic. Following game trails and water systems will show you more than any grid pattern.”
“I appreciate the input.” She pulled up her spreadsheet. “But if we stick to my schedule, we—”
“Will miss everything that matters.” His voice stayed quiet but firm. “You hired me as a guide because I know this land. Let me actually guide you.”
She took in the wilderness beyond the truck.
This was so far out of her wheelhouse, it was tempting to turn around and walk away.
All her talk about spreadsheets and grids and coordinates was exactly that—talk.
She had no idea how to search a forest, so if this park ranger wanted to do it his way, fine.
As long as she could get it done and get back to NED.
“Okay. We’ll do it your way.”
He replied with a curt nod, then exited the truck. If her quick agreement surprised him, he had the courtesy not to show it.
With a deep breath, she opened the door and hopped out into the snow. Despite the chilling wind, the snowsuit kept her toasty warm. It would be heavenly on the Christmas Eve run. “I might have to get one of these snowsuits.”
“Eli at Evergreen Outfitters sells them. I’ll introduce you later.”
"Do you think they come in red and white?"
That got a laugh out of Ivar. "Holly Kringle, you are surprisingly funny. Now here, take this." He handed her a helmet. “Ready to get going?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Bluetooth’s on. You’ll hear me in your headset.”
As they mounted the snowmobile, Holly clutched her tablet protectively inside her jacket.
This should be straightforward. Explore the forest systematically and make an assessment.
Not that she was sure how that was supposed to happen.
She had no equipment to measure Yule line power, although she was pretty sure some existed.
How else would the scouts predict potential areas?
The only guidance she’d received was one of her father’s classic cryptic messages: Magic doesn’t shout, my girl. It whispers, and only to those willing to listen.
Seriously. What did that even mean? At least he’d given her a map.
“The route I’ve planned takes us to Wolf Ridge first.” Ivar’s voice came through clear in her helmet. “It gives the best overview of the property.”
“Sure. Just let me know the coordinates later, so I can check it off my map.”
“What would make it easier would be if you told me what you wanted to do with the land. That would provide me with some direction.”
Holly hesitated. “It’s hard to explain, but I’m looking for the right kind of vibe.”
“Vibe?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” It sounded utterly ridiculous.
It was utterly ridiculous, but her father had insisted this was the tradition.
A Kringle skill that needed honing once in a while.
This convinced Holly that it was part of her evaluation for promotion.
She had to find the Yule vein, and if that meant Ivar taking her through every inch of the forest, so be it.
***
The snowmobile ride was exhilarating. At least for the first hour. By the third, Holly’s muscles felt like overworked taffy. When they finally stopped, she climbed off stiffly, stretching until her joints popped.
“For sitting still, I feel like I’ve run a marathon,” she groaned.
“You’ll feel it tomorrow,” Ivar said. “The hot tub helps. Ask Liv about it.”
“I plan to test that theory extensively, so long as that outfitting store you mentioned sells bathing suits.”
As she finished stepping out of the snowsuit, her stomach growled loud enough for Ivar to hear from several steps away. Great. Now both Nilsen siblings had heard it. Hopefully, there weren’t more in town.
She flashed him an embarrassed smile and retrieved an energy bar from her bag. “Want one?”
He shook his head. “Get in the truck. I know a better option.”
“I’m fine.”
“Humor me. My sister will kill me if I don’t feed you.”
Ivar cranked up the heat in the truck, warmer than he normally had it, she guessed. She held her hands over a vent. “Is the forest here always that pretty?”
“Yes, but what do you mean specifically?”
She shrugged. “My lack of caffeine might be affecting my vision, but when we passed through that last clearing, the snow almost seemed suspended in midair. Like tiny crystals.”
“Yeah, I noticed that too. I figured it was the light playing tricks. The sun and the snowmobile’s headlight both reflecting off the snow.”
“Probably.” Unless the Yule vein was closer than she thought.
All morning, branches had seemed to lift away as they approached, perfect clearings appearing when they needed to rest, the snow somehow less deep where they walked than it should have been.
But she’d never heard of a Yule vein “doing magic.”
Kringles used the energy of the lines to power the villages. That’s all.
***
The Maple Mug Coffee House was cute and welcoming. Honey-colored floors gleamed softly beneath her boots, and garlands of pine and dried oranges hung between ceiling beams. Locals filled the tables, chatting over laptops and crossword puzzles.
And the aroma! She took a deep breath, filling her senses with espresso, baked cinnamon, maple syrup, and something nutty. It was heavenly, and as she exhaled, some of the tension in her shoulders eased.
Ivar caught her reaction and smiled. “See? Not so bad.”
“It’s homey. Like stepping into a Christmas card.”
“That’s Emma. She wants everyone to feel at home.”
“Emma?”
“The owner.” He nodded toward the counter, where a tall woman with dark hair and bright green eyes was laughing with a customer. “Now. What can I get you?”
“I can get it.”
“My treat. I insist. Their butternut squash soup’s the best in Vermont.”
“Sounds wonderful. Oh, and a latte, please.”
He ordered for both of them and joined her at a table near the woodstove.
“So,” he said, placing two lattes and a table marker between them, “what exactly is your family business?”
Holly considered lying but decided honesty, or partial honesty, was simpler. “We manufacture toys.”
For a heartbeat he stared, then burst out laughing. “No way.”
“Way.”
“You’re serious?”
“I don’t joke about toy production.”
“Holly Kringle, toymaker.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Next you’ll say your dad’s name is Chris.”
“It’s Adam. Chris is my grandfather.”
Ivar laughed so hard she thought he might choke. When he finally caught his breath, he excused himself, then returned with two glasses of water, still grinning.
As he set the water down, they both reached for the same glass at the same time. Their fingers brushed, and they instinctively pulled back.
“Sorry,” they said in perfect unison.
They stared at each other for a moment, then spoke again simultaneously: “You go ahead.”
Holly couldn’t help laughing. “Are we actually doing the speaking-in-sync thing?”
“Apparently.” Ivar’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Jinx,” he added, tapping the table.
“What are we, twelve?” But she was smiling despite herself.
“Buy me a coffee and I’ll let you off the hook.”
“I thought this was your treat.”
“Smart and a toymaker. You’re just full of surprises, Holly Kringle.”
Before she could respond, the dark-haired woman approached with two steaming bowls of soup and a plate of warm bread. “What’s so funny over here, Ivar?”
“Emma, meet Holly Kringle. Holly’s interested in the Hale property.”
Emma smiled, setting the food down. “Nice to meet you. We were all sorry to see that land go up for sale. But Winterwood is a friendly place. Whatever you decide to do with it, you’ll be welcome here.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“Are you thinking resort? Vacation cabins?”
“Nothing like that. Right now we’re just exploring.”
“And what kind of business are you in?”
“Toys,” Ivar said, and Holly braced for the reaction.
Emma blinked, then broke into a delighted laugh.
“Of course you are. Well, in that case...” She pulled a flyer from her apron pocket and set it on the table.
“Winterwood Christmas Carnival. It starts in a week. We have craft booths, carols, food, ice carving, you name it. We raise money so that every kid in town gets something special. On Christmas Eve, we have a breakfast with Santa event and hand out the gifts then. If your company wants to donate a few toys, we’d love that. ”
“I’ll mention it to my father.” Holly tucked the flyer into her bag.
“And if you’re staying longer, we could always use another volunteer.”
“I don’t think I’ll be here that long.” At least she hoped not.
“Fair enough. Enjoy the soup. It will thaw your bones.”
Holly tasted the soup and nearly melted. Silky, sweet, and rich with maple and nutmeg.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Holly asked, “So where to next?”
Ivar leaned back in his chair. “You don’t waste a minute.”
“There’s a lot to see.”
“All work and no play.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Is that a warning or an invitation?”
He grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Maybe both. If you’re serious about this land, you should see what it means to the people here. Not just the property lines. The heart of it.”
“I don’t really have time.”
“Make time,” he said, rising to his feet. “I have an idea.”
She narrowed her eyes. “This is the part where I’m supposed to be suspicious, right?”
“Only if you hate fun.”
The park ranger flashed her a grin that dared her to say no.
Whether it was that devilish smile or his blatant challenge, she didn’t know, but she found herself caving. “Okay then.” She stood, slipping the little maple-leaf cookie from her saucer into her pocket. “Lead the way.”