Chapter 6
Mark had barely finished unloading feed at the co-op when his mother called.
“You’re already in town, aren’t you?” she asked.
He shifted the last bag onto the loading dock and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Depends why you’re asking.”
“Winter Wishes needs another pair of hands.”
He looked toward Main Street. “For what?”
“I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “Rebecca Whitley just called. Something about the merchant displays. Natalie sounded calm, which means something has probably gone terribly wrong.”
“That seems backwards.”
“She owns a Christmas shop. Calm is suspicious.”
Mark smiled despite himself. “I’ll head over.”
“I knew you would.”
“You volunteered me.”
“I raised you.”
Before he could argue further, she hung up.
Mark slid his phone into his pocket, climbed into his truck, and drove the short distance to downtown.
He spotted the problem before he parked.
Half of Winter Wishes’ front display had collapsed.
One of the wooden support frames had tipped sideways, pulling garland, lights, and two decorative evergreen trees down with it.
Wrapped gift boxes had scattered across the sidewalk.
A wooden sleigh leaned at an alarming angle, caught by little more than determination and a strand of white lights.
Several people already surrounded the display.
Natalie stood in the middle of the mess, one hand holding the leaning sleigh while trying to keep a wreath from sliding into the street with the other.
“This,” she said to no one in particular, “is not how I planned today.”
Mark shut off his truck and walked over. “Need help?”
She looked up. Relief crossed her face so quickly she didn’t bother hiding it. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
She nodded toward the roofline. “The wind.”
Mark glanced upward. A stronger gust swept down Main Street, rattling wreaths and making ribbons dance. “That’ll do it.”
“I reinforced everything yesterday.”
“You reinforced it for normal wind.”
She sighed. “Apparently Christmas weather had other plans.”
He stepped beside the display and caught the wooden frame before it leaned farther. “Hold the tree.”
Natalie immediately shifted to the nearest evergreen. “This one?”
“That one.”
She steadied it while he examined the broken support.
“The brace snapped.”
“I figured that might be the case.” She shook her head. “I don’t enjoy being right about structural failures.”
“You were right about the lamppost bows needing reinforcement too.”
She looked at him curiously. “You noticed?”
“I notice things that might fall on people.”
“How romantic.”
“Practical,” he corrected. “I’ve noticed you usually know when something isn’t going to stay upright.”
She laughed. “I’ll try not to sound too pleased about that.”
“Too late.”
Together, they lifted the frame back into place.
Mark crouched to inspect the break more closely. “It isn’t ruined,” he said. “Do you have screws?”
“In the shop.”
“And a drill?”
“I own a business.”
“Fair point.”
“I’ll be right back.” She hurried inside, carefully stepping around scattered ornaments while Mark gathered the fallen greenery into one pile.
A little girl stopped with her mother on the sidewalk. “Did Christmas fall over?”
Mark looked down. “For a few minutes.”
“Can you fix it?”
“I think so.”
Natalie came back carrying a drill, a box of screws, and what looked suspiciously like three different kinds of ribbon.
Mark looked at the ribbon. “Planning to repair it decoratively?”
“You never know.”
He accepted the drill. “I think we’ll try lumber first.”
She smiled. “Worth asking.”
While Mark lined up the broken brace, Natalie collected ornaments and brushed fake snow off the wrapped display boxes.
They settled into an easy rhythm. Neither needed to explain much.
“Can you hold this?”
She was already there before he finished asking. “Like this?”
“A little tighter.”
She adjusted her grip. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.”
He drove two screws through the repaired brace before testing it carefully. The frame held.
“So far, so good.”
Natalie looked genuinely impressed. “You make that look easy.”
“I’ve repaired worse.”
“I believe that.”
He stood and lifted the sleigh back into position while Natalie straightened the greenery around the base. She stepped back, studying it from several angles.
“The bow looks crooked.”
“The display collapsed, and the bow bothers you?”
“Yes.”
Mark shook his head. “I’ll never understand you.”
“You’re not required to.” She reached up and adjusted the ribbon half an inch. “There.”
“Better?”
“Much.”
He tilted his head to the side. “It looked exactly the same.”
“It absolutely did not.”
Before he could answer, Mrs. Barlow stopped beside the sidewalk carrying two shopping bags. “Well, aren’t you two making quite the team?”
Natalie smiled politely. “We’re trying.”
Mrs. Barlow looked from Mark to Natalie and back again. “I’ve been saying for years this town needs more young couples willing to work together.”
Mark opened his mouth.
Natalie beat him to it. “We’re almost finished.”
Mrs. Barlow nodded approvingly. “I can see that.” She continued toward the bakery wearing an unmistakably satisfied smile.
Mark looked after her. “She misunderstood.”
Natalie tucked another strand of greenery beneath the sleigh. “She certainly did.”
Neither of them corrected it.
Mark wasn’t entirely sure why. Mrs. Barlow was already halfway across the street, and explaining seemed like more work than rebuilding the display.
Two teenage girls paused nearby.
“One of them owns Winter Wishes.”
“The cowboy’s helping her.”
“They’re cute.”
Natalie coughed into her sleeve.
Mark suddenly found the repaired support very interesting. “This town,” he muttered.
“Has excellent hearing.”
“And vivid imaginations.”
She laughed softly. “It certainly does.”
Another gust of wind swept through the square. This time, the display barely moved.
Mark crossed his arms. “That’s better.”
Natalie walked around the entire arrangement one last time, straightening a gift box and fluffing a strand of garland before finally nodding. “I think we survived.”
“You did.”
“We did.” She looked at him and smiled. “Thank you.”
“You would’ve figured it out.”
“Eventually, but I probably would’ve needed a second trip to the hardware store.”
“You still might.”
She looked down at the repaired brace. “I suppose that’s true.”
Just then Mrs. Whitley crossed the street carrying a paper cup of coffee in each hand. “The decorating emergency…” She looked over the rebuilt display. “I can’t even tell.”
Natalie accepted one gratefully. “There was.”
Mrs. Whitley looked over the rebuilt display. “I can't even tell.”
Mark nodded toward the repaired support. “That’s generally the goal.”
Mrs. Whitley smiled knowingly. “I had a feeling you’d be involved.”
“My mother volunteered me.”
“Maggie does have a way of pointing people exactly where she wants them.”
“She calls it raising capable children.” Mark shrugged. “She runs a business, so giving orders is practically muscle memory.”
Natalie laughed into her coffee. “That sounds about right.”
Mrs. Whitley looked between them with an expression that reminded Mark uncomfortably of every matchmaking conversation he’d survived growing up. “Well,” she said brightly, “whatever the reason, you two make a good team.”
Mark glanced toward Natalie.
She merely took another sip of coffee and looked back at the display. “I think,” she said with perfect composure, “Christmas has caused enough excitement for one afternoon.”
Mrs. Whitley smiled. “I’ll leave you two to it.” She walked away without another word.
Mark watched her disappear into the crowd before looking back at Natalie. “You know… we probably should’ve corrected somebody.”
Natalie looked across the square where Mrs. Barlow now appeared to be sharing animated details with another shopper. She smiled. “It seems a little late now.”
Mark followed her gaze. It probably was. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind nearly as much as he thought he should.