Tidings of Joy: Based on a Hallmark Channel original movie Page 9

  He sucked in an exaggerated breath. “A truck is a good way to haul a tree.”

  “You’ve got me there.”

  “I hate to even say this when we’re having so much fun, but why do you keep making this all about tourism?”

  “If you were me, writing an article about Evergreen, what’s the angle you’d take to translate the monumental amount of ‘Christmas magic’ here?”

  “I don’t know.” He really hoped she’d see the town for what it really was. “This town is genuinely filled with good hardworking people who enjoy sharing their love of the holiday and the true meaning of the season.”

  “Not just the commercial side? I mean, there are ten-foot blow-up snowmen, the magic snow globe. Oh, and we wouldn’t want to forget that every single store-front, without exception, is decorated. And those people wishing Merry Christmas at the train station. You really think I should believe that was a coincidence?”

  “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  She pressed her lips together and lifted her shoulders. “It’s my experience that when a situation seems too good to be true, it probably is.”

  He waited, hoping she might elaborate. It was kind of sad that she couldn’t just enjoy the joyful mood around here for what it was.

  “Okay, so once, before Mom and Dad split up, Dad took my brother and me to see Santa at this little place outside of the city. It seemed like we’d been transported to the North Pole. There were even elves with pointy shoes and ears serving hot chocolate. We got our picture taken with Santa. I was so excited. I still remember what I asked Santa for that night.”

  “So you’ve been around people who love Christmas for what it is.”

  “Not exactly. You see, later that night when we got back, Dad realized my brother had left the picture behind. We heard Dad telling Mom about how he’d wasted two hundred bucks on the charade, and we weren’t even appreciative enough to keep track of the picture. Then he told Mom what I’d asked for. Santa couldn’t even keep a secret? Not only did I figure out Santa wasn’t real, but it was pretty clear the whole experience was just one more way to turn a buck.”

  Ben could see why she might be a little sour on the idea, but then, why had she come in the first place? He looked into her eyes. He could see that childhood memory hanging like a dark curtain over her mood, but she was here now. She really wants to believe in Christmas magic. “I guess you just need to see for yourself.” He turned down the gravel lane that led to the tree lot.

  “Fair enough,” she said quietly.

  So many other vehicles had already driven down this path today that the snow was packed down into two vertical strips, making it like steering a slot car to the barn.

  A couple of goats played King of the Mountain on a snowdrift next to the fence, and cows dotted the snow-laden pastures as they lazed in the sun.

  “This is so pretty.” Katie sat forward in her seat to get a better look. “Business must be really good. That new barn is huge.”

  Ben hadn’t really thought of it that way. Henry worked long and hard to afford that new building. He could see her point though. The shiny red metal barn highlighted how faded the old wooden one right next to it was. The old barn looked almost a muddy pink in comparison now.

  He pulled the truck in front of the old two-story shed that housed all the wreath-and-garland-making supplies and put the truck in park.

  Henry waved as a family drove off with a tree tied to their roof.

  Carol came from around the building, carrying a wooden crate of pine limbs toward the wreath shed.

  Ben and Katie got out of the truck. The sun was shining, and even though everything was still covered in snow, it was warm enough that Katie didn’t even have to button up her coat.

  Henry recognized the red truck immediately. “There you are.” He met them halfway, then waved them over. “Come on. Follow me. It’s that big tree in the back. I picked out a real winner for ya.”

  Ben saw it, much taller than the others. “It’s perfect.”

  “I knew you’d like it.” Henry motioned for the lot boys to bring it on over to the truck.

  “Looks like you’ve got a good operation out here,” Katie said.

  “Thanks. Customers are pretty faithful to us.” Henry nodded toward Ben. “You can just ask this guy. He worked here three winters when he was in high school.”

  Ben snickered. “Everybody works here in high school.”

  “My high school job involved a lot more filing. I’m sure yours was probably more fun.”

  “It was a good place to work.” Ben watched three teens muscle the tree over to the red truck. He jogged over to help them put it into the bed so they didn’t scratch the sides.

  Katie and Henry watched from nearby. “It smells amazing out here,” she said.

  Ben shook his head. He knew what was coming next. Poor Katie. She had no idea what she’d just stepped right into.

  “Terpenes,” Henry blurted out.

  Ben laughed. He should’ve warned her.

  Katie looked completely confused. Henry was always happy to share his knowledge about Christmas trees. Ben had heard this speech a million times over the years.

  “Each year, someone asks me why Christmas trees smell so nice,” Henry went on. “So I went to the library, and guess what. Terpenes. The trees give off the scent to protect themselves from bugs, and some people believe the scent floats up and seeds the clouds and brings the snowfall.”

  “Wait, is that true?” She turned to Ben for confirmation. “Trees helping the clouds rain and snow? He’s pulling my leg. Right?”

  Henry interjected. “No. It’s true. It’s not just a nice smell. They call it cloud-seeding. Do a little of that journalist research. You’ll see.”

  “I will. Thanks for the tip.” She pulled out her notebook and jotted it down. “Terpenes.”

  Henry shrugged; clearly, he’d never been challenged on the trivia before. “I leave the science to scientists. They’re doing more tests, but all of it working in a circle like that. Just imagine. It’s amazing. I’ve got trees. I’ve got snow. Who am I to argue?”

  “Wow. Christmas trees,” Katie said. “Who knew?”

  “Henry knew.” Ben tried to hide his amusement.

  “Hey, Ben, would you mind?” Henry raised a hand in the air. “I have a library book I need to return.”

  “No problem. We’ll walk up with you.”

  Just then, Katie’s phone rang. She looked at the screen. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll catch up.”

  She laid her notebook down on the hood of the truck and answered the call, then walked toward the building, talking the whole way.

  Ben couldn’t help but slow down to take a glance at what she’d written.

  Down a snowy lane, you leave the road for a place that’s a hive of activity. On the side of the new barn, a cheerful red-and-green sign hangs above the sliding doors—the kind with the white X’s on them. Henry’s Christmas Tree Farm painted in fun red lettering with snowflakes that look to be hand-lettered on the sign, with a big Christmas tree and red-and-green presents underneath. From the trees and the mistletoe, to the wreath-making barn, not one thing is out of place. Rows and rows of trees line up like toy soldiers, ready to do their part for the holiday. There is a feeling of order, but more so of joy that hangs over the place in an inviting way.

  Nice. Maybe she understood more than he gave her credit for.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Katie left the guys to take the phone call. She knew Mom was probably getting antsy about that article. She’d been hoping she could buy a little more time before talking to her, but she couldn’t ignore the call, either. “Hi, Mom.”

  “How’s the article coming?”

  “Pretty good, actually. I’m at a Christmas tree lot. You should see this place. All red, green and terpenes.”
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  “Ter-what?”

  “Never mind. Good to hear from you.”

  “Great! Because I’m very excited about your article, and so is the editorial board. But more importantly, I’m calling to invite you to our Christmas party at the magazine.”

  “Mom.” Katie found it hard to hide her aggravation. Mom was worse than a matchmaker, only instead of setting her up on dates, she was always trying to get her a job…and she knew Katie wanted to write that second novel.

  Katie meandered along the wooden fence. Fresh garland in different lengths hung like decorations until someone bought them. Even all these terpenes couldn’t keep her from getting a little tired of the same old discussion about Mom’s office party.

  “I know. I know I invite you every year. And every year you say the same thing. I also asked your brother if he could make it to the city, but with the new baby on the way, they aren’t going to leave Seattle. I told him I’d come out when the little one is born. Maybe you can come with me.”

  “That would be great. I still can’t picture him as a father.”

  “Hopefully, he’ll be more involved than your father was.”

  She didn’t engage on that comment. Dad had been a dutiful father. He always told her he loved her, and supported every activity she was involved in, and there had been many. Sure, he’d worked a lot, but she’d never felt neglected. It’d been hard when they’d split up, though, because neither parent had anything nice to say about the other. Probably exactly why she was so careful about her relationships.

  “It’ll just be me and you this year again, honey.”

  “I’m okay with that. I like our Christmas traditions. I like that we keep them small. I like ordering in on Christmas day. Keeping it just us is nice.” The thought of sharing Mom with not only her brother but with a grandchild suddenly made her more eager to spend Christmas alone with Mom this year.

  “And we will do all of those things. But it’s not so bad to share the holiday with more people. And it could open some doors for your future—business and personal. It’s a great place to mingle.”

  “Okay, Mom. I hear you. Listen, I’m not here to ruin your fun. I like that you enjoy big parties. I just like quieter gatherings.” She watched the families selecting their trees. They were making memories. “You’d love Evergreen too, Mom.”

  “But you’re RSVPing no.”

  “I am.”

  “I suspected as much. Okay, so when am I going to see something about this article?”

  “You can expect an email with some story ideas within the next day or so, okay?”

  “I appreciate that. Thank you, honey.”

  “You’re welcome, Mom.”

  A family across the way was having a heck of a time deciding on the perfect tree. Apparently harder than it sounded. Something she’d never done. Living in the city, her apartment building didn’t allow live trees, so it was only a matter of putting up an artificial one when she even bothered. If she had to pick one out today, she didn’t know where she’d begin. It seemed nearly impossible to pick between them all, standing tied to the posts like that. Fat ones, skinny ones, tall and short. Long needles, short needles, prickly or soft.

  Doing her own little test, she checked each of the different species Henry had on the lot. There were firs, pines, and spruce trees, and there were two or three varieties of each of those. Even between some of the same species, the firs for instance, there were subtle differences. The subtle smell of the Douglas Fir was different than the Fraser or the Balsam Fir, which smelled more like her favorite candles; even the needles and colors were slightly different.

  Grazing her fingers across the needles, she gave them the sniff test, trying to imagine them decorated. She could imagine for a moment that she was alone in the forest. A calm came over her, so relaxing she wondered if it might wash away her every worry. It was as if Christmas angels on the terpene clouds had rescued her and whisked her away to this magical Christmas place.

  She looked around, having lost track of Ben and Henry while on the phone with Mom and this little research side trip. Finally, she caught a glimpse of the back of Ben’s green jacket as he entered the barn, carrying a huge box.

  “Ben. Wait.” She caught up with him. “What’s all that?”

  “Henry upcycles all the scraps from the trees so others can make wreaths.” He set down the wooden box of scraps, similar to the one Carol had been carrying earlier.

  “Oh, I see.” She followed him over to where Carol and David were crafting a couple of door-sized wreaths out of the pieces. Across the way, others gathered, wrapping bows, live holly sprigs with berries and ribbons into their wreaths. “This just never stops.”

  “Why does mine always turn out lopsided?” Carol lifted her egg-shaped wreath for them to see. “That’s why Allie always hangs mine up at the vet’s office.”

  “The cats don’t seem to mind,” David teased.

  Carol laughed. “So cute. Thank you, David.”

  Katie found the whole thing quite charming. Her eye caught something off to the side: a sleigh. “Wow. Would you look at this?” She wandered closer. “That sleigh is beautiful.”

  Henry followed her with a nostalgic twinkle in his eye. “It’s been years, but we used to hitch up a horse or two and take this sleigh right through the town square.”

  Carol joined them. “I used to love that. You know, all these years looking at the sleigh in the snow globe, I always sort of wondered if it was based on this one,” she admitted.

  “You should see if this one has a key under it like the one in the snow globe,” Katie said, half joking.

  “What key?” A puzzled look crossed Carol’s expression, and Henry seemed none the wiser, either.

  “Oh, well, when we took the broken snow globe over to the tinker shop, Elliott discovered underneath the miniature sleigh in the snow globe, there’s a key.” Katie ran her hands over the blue velvet seat of the sleigh.

  David jogged over. “I heard you talking about the key. Yeah, there’s a tiny golden key engraved underneath the sleigh from the snow globe. If there’s one there, maybe… Do you think I could…” He pointed to the sleigh, dying to take a peek.

  “Go for it,” Carol said.

  David didn’t waste a moment. He scrambled beneath the sleigh, searching the undercarriage. “I don’t see a…” He pressed on something, his feet kicking out as he tried to get a better angle. “Wait! Hold on.” A clunk and a clang followed and something hit the floor.

  David grabbed the key, and Henry gave him a hand from underneath the sleigh.

  Astounded, Henry said, “I can’t believe it. After all these years.”

  “No way.” Katie reached out and took the key from David. “What?”

  Carol spoke up. “It’s sort of like the key that David was searching all around town to find a lock for last year.”

  David eyed the key. “No. This key looks different than the one we found last year.”

  “The one that got the church bells ringing again?” Ben asked.

  “But what does this one go to?” David asked.

  Katie shrugged. Henry, Carol, David and Ben surveyed one another. The energy from their imaginations going into overdrive clicked in the air around them.

  “And why would someone hide it so well? Were we meant to ever find it?”

  Old keys won’t open new doors.

  It had been fun spending the day with Ben and being a part of finding that key. She was going back and forth with herself about just how real and spontaneous all of this was. They knew she had that article to write. Was she only part of this one big, scripted act to trick her into believing all this Evergreen stuff? And if so, why would they go to all this trouble? That just seemed crazy.

  Later that evening, Katie had gone over to the library to work. She was sitting at Nan’s desk with books and
papers all around her. She scribbled another note on the pad next to her laptop, then began typing like a fiend.

  Footsteps caught her attention. When she looked up, Ben was standing in the doorway. “Calvin Coolidge.”

  Okay. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Where had that come from? She tried to make a connection. “Was from Evergreen?”

  “No. He was actually born in Plymouth, Vermont. But he was also the first American President to light the National Christmas tree in 1923. He ordered a Balsam fir—”

  “I don’t believe for one second that Henry is that old.”

  “No, you’re right. Henry isn’t that old, but Calvin Coolidge did buy a tree not too far from here. Just a fun little fact.”

  Katie reached over to a piece of paper and wrote it down. “Calvin Coolidge. Super into Christmas trees. Got it.”

  “Is that your article?”

  “Yeah.”

  He reached for it, lifting the red folder sitting in front of her to check it out.

  “Oh, it will be, yeah.” She snagged it back from him. “I like to get it down on paper first.” She tucked the folder back under a book and tapped it with a protective hand. She wasn’t quite ready to share this with the world yet, and especially not with Ben.

  “I’m the same way. Paper. Pen. Old-school. I just like the feel of it.”

  “Yeah. Me too, but as I’m typing it all in now so I can send to the magazine, something just isn’t quite working. Do you mind if I print it again? See if I can figure it out?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Thank you.” Katie sent the file to the printer, and started packing up her things. “So, that tree we picked up today. Did you get it all set up?” She walked into the other room to grab the printout from the tray.

  “Yes. Now all that’s left is to decorate it.”

  “And when will you be doing that?”

  “Tomorrow sometime, if you’d like to help. And also, they’re clearing off the ice-skating pond tomorrow if you want to—”

  “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

  “What do you mean, no? Before I even finished asking?”