Chapter 15 Derek #2
“If you’re here for a tree, I’ve only got a few left,” Phil says warningly. “And they’re all… well, let’s say they’ve got character.”
“That’s all right,” I tell him, smiling at his honest salesmanship.
Darcy heads for the trees and I follow, wondering which one she’ll be drawn to.
There are a couple of really small ones, and another that’s dropped a lot of its needles. A tree that looks nice and green but is almost as wide as it is tall catches my eye as a good compromise, but Darcy walks right past it to inspect a nice medium-sized one, with a big bare spot on one side.
“That one’s a nice shape,” Phil says. “But it’s missing some branches.”
“All on one side though,” Darcy says. “Otherwise it’s a really nice tree, and just the right size. It will have to go against the wall anyway, right?”
I picture the tiny cabin living space and realize she’s exactly right.
“Yes,” I say. “I think that’s a perfect tree for us.”
She smiles and her eyes are shining and I want to hold her so badly I have to ball my hands into fists to keep myself from grabbing her.
“I’ll throw it on top of the car for you,” Phil says.
“Thank you,” Darcy tells him.
It takes him about two minutes to put the tree on the car and secure it to the roof rack with some twine.
“I guess he’s done that a few times,” Darcy says quietly.
“Thanks a lot, Phil,” I tell him when he’s done. “How much will it be?”
“Oh, no charge,” he says, waving me off.
“It’s almost Christmas,” I tell him. “And that’s one of the last cut trees on Angel Mountain.”
“I heard how much you donated in the silent auction,” Phil says quietly. “Consider it a community thank-you.”
“Oh,” I say, for once so flabbergasted I have no idea what to say. “That’s…that’s not why I did it.”
I guess I went overboard on my donation. It probably would have been better to donate anonymously. I just figured that if I waited until the end to bid no one would really see it.
But I forgot how everyone in this little town loves to talk, especially about anything that speaks well of Angel Mountain. A local man’s grandson coming back and making a big contribution would be irresistible fodder for gossip in a community with so much town pride.
“I know that’s not why you did it, son,” Phil says warmly, clapping my shoulder. “It’s good to have you home. Come by the farm if you have time, and bring your daughter. Roan would be glad to see you all.”
Home.
“Thank you, Phil,” I tell him, shaking his hand.
I lived with my grandfather a lot growing up, but never gave myself permission to think of this place as my own hometown. It feels like home, though. It always did.
I open Darcy’s door for her and help her up before jogging around to the other door and hopping in.
“I think the Christmas Shop is still open,” I tell her. “We can grab some ornaments.”
“That sounds great,” she replies lightly, like we do this all the time.
We continue on and get lucky to find that the shop is open for another ten minutes.
We make a game out of racing around the cinnamon-scented shelves, grabbing ornaments, strings of lights, and a tree stand.
And of course it wouldn’t be an Angel Mountain Christmas tree without a few Foster’s Figurine ornaments, including one of the new gingerbread ones that everyone seems to be loving.
When we get to the counter, Darcy is admiring an angel tree-topper. The angel has long brown hair like hers, a golden halo, and a little wooden harp.
“We’ll take that too, please,” I tell the owner.
“Is this too much?” Darcy asks suddenly, eyeing the pile of purchases on the counter.
“I think you know better than anyone that it isn’t,” I tell her quietly.
She’s seen the quarterlies. The game is making money hand over fist at this time of year. Not that it needs to. My personal accounts are practically overflowing from past years’ profits.
She frowns, and I realize that maybe that wasn’t what she meant.
Maybe she’s thinking that it’s too much for us to spend so much time together and have so much fun when it’s all pretend. Maybe she’s afraid I’ll want more.
She’s not wrong.
“I know what this is, Darcy,” I lean in to murmur in her ear. “I won’t get the wrong idea.”
But the light vanilla scent of her hair teases my senses and I have to turn away before I do something stupid that tells her I’m lying to us both.
I pay for our purchases and put the change in the donation jar.
We drive back up the mountain in relative silence, the radio playing Christmas music that’s not bright enough to lighten my dark mood.
But somehow as we get back to the cabin and start unloading our purchases I begin to feel a little bit better.
The air up here is cold and sweet, and just carrying the tree in and starting a fire in the stove gets my blood pumping. And Darcy looks so happy as she unpacks all the lights and ornaments. Her good vibes must be contagious.
“It’s great that we could get everything we needed in one trip,” she tells me as she removes a set of the big colorful bulbs I always think of as an old-fashioned style, even though these are the newer LED type. “We can definitely get it all decorated tonight and really surprise her.”
“We sure can,” I agree as I set the tree in the stand.
She moves to tighten the bolts before I can even ask for her help and in no time we’ve got the tree all set up with its barren spot facing the wall.
“Oh, that’s so pretty,” Darcy says, standing back to look at it.
“So pretty,” I agree, but I’m not looking at the tree—I have eyes only for Darcy.
Stop that, I try to tell myself, knowing it’s way too late.
“I’m going to get some more wood,” I tell her gruffly, hoping that getting outside and away from her to swing the ax will clear my head.
And for a while the exertion and the crystalline air make for a perfect distraction.
But then I glance up and see my girl gazing at me from the window like she did the last time and something wild in me takes over.
I want to make her smile, so I raise the ax over my head like some kind of barbarian and without really thinking about it I lift my head and let out a long howl at the moon.
When I look to her again she presses her nose to the window and I get my wish as a smile lights up her face.
She doesn’t say a word about my silliness when I come back in and put another log on the fire but I can tell by the mischief dancing in her beautiful brown eyes that she’s thinking about it.
What are you doing to me, Darcy Keller?
We’re winding the lights around the tree when her phone starts buzzing.
She looks concerned.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You’ve got the autoresponders on, right?”
“I don’t think it’s work,” she explains. “I forgot to call my sister back. She called earlier when I was with Michael. She noticed the engagement ring in the milkshake photo.”
For some reason, that strikes me as funny, but I don’t dare crack a smile because she looks so worried about it.
“Go talk to her,” I say, waving her off. “I’ll keep going with the lights.”
She smiles and runs to grab her phone.
“Mandy?” she says as she pulls it to her ear.
I’m not sure what I expected, but I’m a little disappointed when she heads into the room she shares with J.B. and closes the door behind her.
She’s allowed to have a personal life, I remind myself. She’s my employee, not my fiancée.
I keep stringing lights, but decorating the tree just isn’t as fun without her.
Nothing is.