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Christmas in Evergreen Page 5


  Henry walked over to the truck as she got out. “Hey, Doc.” His face was etched with worry. He pushed his gloved hands into the pockets of his heavy canvas coat.

  She changed into a pair of muck boots, gathered her work coat and her medicine bag from the back of the truck, and followed Henry.

  The old barn smelled of good hay and the essence of livestock that always made her relax. A city girl would be pinching her nose right now. She shuffle-ball-changed around a few scattered chickens and walked past all of the stalls with horses, to the very end where Buttercup was spending her last few weeks before calving.

  Henry must’ve been taking his role as grandfather pretty seriously these days, because this was the first time she’d ever seen his barn with white twinkle lights running along every stall down the aisle. It looked festive.

  She took off her good coat and laid it over the top of the wooden stall door, then pulled on her green, waterproof work jacket that covered most of her outfit. Then she stepped into the stall with Buttercup.

  She rubbed the cow’s head, said a few comforting words, and then examined her. Henry stood nearby, watching as nervous as if it were his first child.

  “Sorry, Henry,” she said, stepping back. “She’s not in labor.” She still didn’t have the spring Allie would expect right before calving, and although she was doing a good amount of mooing, those weren’t attached to contractions.

  Henry stood with his arm propped on the stall gate. “Are you sure? I heard her mooing.”

  “Cows moo, Henry,” she teased. “It’s a fairly common occurrence.” For a seasoned horseman, he sure was frantic about these cows. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he’d never been around livestock at all, but there was a rack of ribbons and trophies for his horses that covered the back wall of three stalls. His dad had always handled the cattle. This was all new for Henry.

  He shook his head. “It was a different kind. It was an I’m-about-to-give-birth moo.”

  “You’d better brush up on your bovine, because she’s fine.” Maybe she should create an app for that. Bovine translator. Sounded like something Ezra would get behind. She chuckled to herself as she took off her gloves.

  “What are we going to do if it happens when you’re gone?”

  So, that was what this was about. It was a nice compliment that folks preferred her over the neighboring town’s veterinarian, but it sure was exhausting with everyone hurrying to get everything they needed done before she left town for good. And when it came to Buttercup, you just couldn’t rush these kinds of things.

  If she’d said it once, she’d said it a hundred times. “Call Dr. Myers in Montpelier.” She unzipped her work jacket. “I have a plane to catch.”

  Henry grabbed her red wool dress coat from the stall and ran after her with it. “Here.” He took her work jacket from her and held her coat up for her to slip into.

  “Thank you.” She picked up her medical bag and headed for the truck.

  Henry mumbled, “That big-city living is going to change you.”

  “Oh, stop. Change isn’t a bad thing.” She pointed to the brand-new barn that sat only forty feet from the old one. “Look at that. You built a new barn. That’s not a bad thing.” That barn had to have cost Henry over a hundred grand. It was one of those fancy metal jobs with sliding doors at both ends tall enough for him to drive his big equipment through if he wanted. He’d told her this barn would hold over 2,400 square bales in the loft alone. A plus, since his boys had purchased the neighboring acreage last summer and started baling squares and round bales for their own farm use and retail. That barn opened up new opportunities for Henry and the next generation of Holloway men.

  “Haven’t moved into it yet, and it’s just a barn,” Henry said.

  She knew better than that. It was way more than just a barn to him. “And I will still be Allie. Just in a new city.” She turned to face him. “What are you going to do with the old barn once you move in?”

  “Dunno. Tear it down, probably.”

  “Ahhh. See that, Henry?” She placed her bag in the truck. “More change. It’s in the air. You can feel it.” She patted him on the chest. “Merry Christmas, Henry.” She climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Merry Christmas, Doc.” He closed the door for her but waited.

  Allie was pretty sure he was hanging close in case she needed help. Last time she was here, he’d had to bring the tractor around and give her a jump-start.

  She hoped for the best as she turned the key, but there was no problem this time. The engine started right up. She and Henry both let out a whoop.

  “There we go!” Thank goodness her truck was finally cooperating. She had places to go. A journey to begin.

  “Bye.” Henry turned his back to the wind and headed to the barn.

  She waved and pulled away as those two white goats followed along close behind her. They’d probably been nibbling on the wreath on the back of her truck. An occupational hazard.

  She loved her patients—the furry ones and their guardians.

  Now, to get ready to leave for the airport.

  Chapter Eight

  Ryan and Zoe stepped inside the Chris Kringle Kitchen.

  This place sure lives up to its name. Ryan half expected there to be a giant chair at one end of the diner with kids in line for the chance to tell Santa their last-minute adjustments to their Christmas lists.

  A pretty woman with shoulder-length blond hair wearing a green sweater set greeted them. “Just the two of you this afternoon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Follow me.” She led them to a table across the room. He couldn’t glance in any direction without getting an eyeful of red and green—from the curtains to the napkins and even the dishes on display.

  The windows were frosted with fake snow that appeared to be year-round decor. Didn’t they have plenty of real snow right now?

  He thought about the woman in her bright red, vintage truck.

  Not only did this town take Christmas seriously, but she did, too. She had a wreath on the shiny front grille of that antique, and another one on the back, nearly covering the entire tailgate end-to-end. It was a very nice truck. Not the kind you expected to see someone driving around town on a snowy day.

  He had no idea why he’d even stopped and asked if he could help. Changing a flat tire was about the extent of his car knowledge, and he wasn’t local, so he had no connections in this town to assist her.

  Ryan chalked it up to holiday spirit. Who knew crossing your fingers could start a truck? Kind of a superhero power. He liked the way her nose had wrinkled when she’d laughed. Fresh and funny. Very much the girl next door.

  He hadn’t even caught her name. All he knew was that her parents owned this place.

  He wondered if the woman seating them was her mother. She had a nice smile, too.

  Why was it the chance encounter with someone nice had to be somewhere he’d never be again? He could use good company like her.

  The place was packed. It appeared he and Zoe had snagged the very last table.

  For a diner, it had a nice holiday vibe. Every table was draped with a red cloth and a gold table runner. Red and gold bows snazzed up the back of every wooden chair. Paper napkins in a festive gold-and-white pattern made the place seem homey. This wasn’t an average greasy spoon. Twinkle lights not only brightened the huge Christmas tree in the corner, but also lined the whole path across the refrigerated glass-front case filled with goodies.

  He opened his menu. It continued the Christmas theme with items like the Merry Christmas Monte Cristo sandwich, Cherry Blitzens, Red-nosed Reuben, Holly Jolly Flapjacks, and the Silver Bell Burger with Pere Noel Fries.

  Across the way, a man drinking hot chocolate was the spitting image of Santa Claus, if only he
had a few more pounds on him. Was he a plant? A secret threat to the kids dining with their parents that the big guy was watching their behavior? Pretty good shtick if it was. Every town should have a restaurant like this.

  Ryan nudged Zoe under the table with his foot, and then jerked his head in that direction, getting her to steal a glance.

  Her face lit up.

  “Must be the very best place to eat,” he whispered.

  Zoe nodded her head quickly. She craned her neck and then ducked behind her menu. “It looks like he is having the Silver Bell Burger.”

  “Well, then that’s what I’m having,” Ryan said, setting down his menu.

  “Me, too!”

  The perky woman came back over and set two glasses of water on the table. “What can I get you two today?”

  “We’re going to both have the Silver Bell Burger.”

  “Great choice.” She scribbled on her pad. “Child-size for the young lady?”

  “Yes please,” Ryan said.

  “Will you both be having the Pere Noel Fries with that?”

  “Definitely,” Zoe answered.

  “Great. I’ll get that order right in for you.”

  “Thank you.” He handed her the menus.

  Zoe lunged across the table, giggling. “Get it, Dad? ‘Pere Noel’ is the French Santa Claus. French Fries.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “It’s true. We learned it in school.”

  The food came fast considering how busy it was, and that was good, because they had a flight to catch. The woman had left the ticket when she’d served the food so they’d be able to eat and get back on the road.

  Zoe ate with one eye on Santa.

  “You ready?” he asked Zoe when they’d finished.

  “Ready if you are.” She bounced up and put her coat on, picking up the check from the table.

  “You going to take care of that?” he teased.

  “No! That’s your department.”

  “Oh, I see.” Ryan followed Zoe over to the counter. The pretty blonde wore a tiny gold locket around her neck and a nametag that read Carol. He remembered a similar necklace on the woman with the truck problems.

  “Everything to your liking?” she asked warmly.

  “Delicious,” he said. “Does your daughter drive a red truck?”

  “She does.” She looked surprised. “You know Allie?”

  “No. We briefly crossed paths, and she recommended this place for lunch. I’m glad she did. That was the best burger I’d had in a long time.”

  “I’m so glad you liked it.” Carol handed him his change. “There you go.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Zoe seemed mesmerized by a snow globe that sat at the end of the counter.

  “Merry Christmas,” Carol said to her.

  Zoe looked up. “Does this snow globe really grant wishes?”

  Carol stepped over to her and leaned forward, laying a hand on the sign next to the snow globe. “Like the sign says, ‘only if you know what your heart really wants.’”

  Ryan watched the flash of confusion change to hope on his daughter’s face.

  “Where did it come from?”

  Carol shrugged. “Nobody knows. One day, right after we opened this diner, it just showed up on our doorstep, along with that sign. It’s been here ever since. People come from all over to make wishes. It’s a tradition here in Evergreen.”

  “Have you ever made one?”

  “A wish? I have.” Carol’s eyes filled with delight. “When I first got it, I wished to have a little girl just like you. And you know what? My wish came true.”

  Zoe beamed.

  Carol had a way about her. Ryan hadn’t seen that kind of smile on Zoe’s face in a long time. Not since Sarah.

  “Would you like to try it?” Carol urged her.

  “Sure!”

  “All right.” Carol lifted the magical snow globe and held it out to Zoe. It was large and appeared heavy as Zoe took it with both hands.

  “Careful, Zoe.” How much did that kind of relic cost to replace? Could it be replaced? It appeared hand-carved. Zoe gave him the stink eye. Ryan noticed the Santa Claus-like man watching them.

  After a moment’s pause, she turned her back to him and the others like she was hiding something. She cradled the snow globe, then flipped it upside down and gave it a good shake. Then she righted it and watched the snowfall.

  Zoe squeezed her eyes tight and made her wish.

  Carol and Ryan shared a thoughtful glance. There was something special about the innocence of a child—the unchallenged belief in her heart and mind that he wished he still had.

  Zoe spun back around with a broad smile and held the globe out to Ryan. “It’s your turn, Dad.”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Dad. Don’t be shy,” Carol urged Ryan.

  There were plenty of things he could ask for right now, like erasing the last year, but he wasn’t about to put his faith in the magic of a snow globe. “I’m sure whatever Zoe wished for is good enough for both of us.”

  “Okay.” Carol took the snow globe from Zoe and placed it back in its special spot.

  “Thank you!”

  Carol smiled gently. “You’re welcome. Come back and tell us how that wish turned out, okay?”

  “Okay! Bye!” Zoe said.

  “Bye, honey.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Ryan said. He held the door open for Zoe, the bells jingling as they stepped out onto the sidewalk together.

  “Can’t we stay a little longer?” Zoe pleaded.

  “Zoe.” Ryan clapped his hands on each of her shoulders. “The sooner we go to the airport, the sooner we get to Florida.”

  “Florida will be great. But…”

  “But what?”

  Zoe extended her arms. “Just look at this place.”

  “I promise. Florida is going to be so much fun, and you and me, we’re going to have the best Christmas ever.” But would any Christmas ever be as good as the ones they’d shared as a family? “Okay?”

  Zoe gave him a brave smile. “Okay, Dad.”

  He opened the car door and prodded her along. “Okay! All right!” She climbed into the backseat. “In you go, kiddo.” He closed the door.

  He’d do anything for his daughter’s happiness. He prayed he was doing the right thing. He kind of got why she’d wanted to hang around a little while here. This town did have a certain magic to it.

  Ryan took in the festive Evergreen decorations. Sarah would’ve loved this; she would’ve had the same glimmer in her eyes that Zoe had right now. He glanced up at the sky. Clouds were rolling in, and the snow was already starting to get heavier. They needed to get on the road to beat the storm.

  He pulled away from the curb, noticing the old red pickup truck coming back in his direction as he turned to head out of town.

  Maybe he should’ve given in to Zoe’s request to stay a little bit longer. He wouldn’t have minded bumping into her one more time.

  Allie parked her truck across the road from the Chris Kringle Kitchen. The snow had really started to fall, already leaving a soft layer on top of her suitcase in the bed of the truck.

  Her parents walked out to meet her before she could even get out of the driver’s seat. She gave the door handle a good tug and jumped out to meet them.

  Dad was the first to say something. “Well,” he said. “You’re on your way?”

  “Yes. All packed and ready to go.” Excitement bubbled over. This was really it; only, with one glance toward her mom, her heart sank. “Mom…?” Allie knew better, and Mom’s lower lip trembled.

  “I’m not going to cry.” Her mom lifted her chin, putting on a brave f
ront. “You’ll be back next week.”

  “Exactly,” Allie said. “We’ll have time for our big emotional goodbye then.”

  “Right.” Carol tugged her jacket around her.

  Allie waved her arms, beckoning Mom in for a hug. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” She hugged her tightly. “You travel safely.”

  “I will.” She turned to her father. “Bye, Daddy.”

  “Goodbye, sweetheart.” He hugged her.

  Mom rushed in and wrapped her arms around them both. “Family hug!” she said.

  Emotion swept through Allie. “Okay, guys.” She left before she changed her mind or started crying herself.

  When she got to her truck, she turned around. Mom and Dad stood arm in arm, and Dad was choking back tears.

  She heard Mom teasing him. “Chopping onions?”

  “Yeah.” He laughed.

  Allie got back in her truck and waved a confident goodbye.

  This was it. The beginning of her new life.

  As Evergreen got smaller in her rearview mirror and she crossed the famous red covered bridge on her way out of town, reality sank in. She was spending Christmas away from everything she’d ever known the holiday to be. Her family. Her hometown. The Christmas festival, and her best friends.

  In a few hours, she’d be in DC. With Spencer. She didn’t have any other friends there yet. Just a new job waiting for her and an apartment that would be hers as soon as she signed the lease.

  She drove along, thinking about her future as the windshield wipers swept the snow away in a steady rhythm.

  What family traditions would she continue when she moved? Would there be a tree farm nearby that she could go to and pick out a nice balsam or Fraser fir? Would they have someone on hand to cut it down, shake it, wrap it, and put it in her truck for her? Would the tree be so fresh that her fingers would stick together when she touched it? Now, that was the kind Christmas tree she liked.