My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch 1)

Maggie always looked forward to the day after Thanksgiving. For her it was a magical time, when Branding Iron awakened to the Christmas season.

Years ago, when her father was mayor, the townspeople had passed a resolution urging that no Christmas decorations be put up on the streets, in shops, or even in houses and yards, until after Thanksgiving had been properly celebrated. The tradition was cherished and honored—except by Shop Mart, which was just outside the city limits and followed its own rules.

This morning, as she drove up Main Street, Maggie could see the town workers putting up the tree in the square, and hanging strings of tinsel and colored lights between the lampposts. The Nativity scene was going up in front of the church, and the PA system in the park was playing Christmas songs.

But the crowning touch of the morning was the first real snowfall of the season. So far, the snow was only two or three inches deep. But that was enough to cloak the town and surrounding countryside in glistening white. And more snow was in the forecast—a line of storms, sweeping out of the North-west in the days ahead, more than enough to give Branding Iron the hope of a white Christmas.

Maggie was passing the park when she saw the sign advertising Christmas Tree Ranch. Her pulse skipped. Travis and his friends had done what they’d set out to. They were open for business.

She’d been headed to her office to catch up on work while the building was closed to the public. But she had plenty of time, and she was curious. The hour was too early for many customers, but it wouldn’t hurt to cruise past the place and see how they’d set up. She wouldn’t stop—that would be awkward after last night’s encounter with Travis. If they noticed her, she would just give them a friendly wave and keep driving.

She turned around at the far end of Main Street and headed south, out of town. There was another sign at the city limits and one more at the entrance to the Shop Mart parking lot. Stopping nearby, she brushed the windblown snow from the red-stenciled text. She could only hope people would notice the signs and be curious enough to drive out and investigate. If their Christmas tree venture failed, she would be heartsick for Travis and his friends.

Maggie drove on south. She was approaching Hank’s Hardware, on the far side of the highway, when she saw the big sign on the Christmas tree lot. She slowed down for a closer look. Her heart sank as she read the hastily painted letters.

TODAY ONLY! ALL TREES HALF PRICE!

Groaning out loud, she pulled off the highway and read the sign again. Everyone driving south to Christmas Tree Ranch would have to pass that sign. Three cars had already stopped outside Hank’s lot to look at his trees, and Hank was waiting to welcome them at the gate. Nobody who bought a tree here would bother to drive on and look for another one.

Branding Iron was not a wealthy community. Many families struggled to provide a nice Christmas for their children. A tree at half price, even if it wasn’t the freshest, would mean a few more gifts on Christmas morning. How many folks would pass that up?

Maggie knew enough about the tree business to estimate Hank’s profit margin. He would be losing money on every tree he sold at half price. But that wouldn’t matter to him, as long as he was taking business away from his son.

A Christmas tree war had begun. And Maggie was caught in the crossfire.

What now? It was too late to go in and try to reason with Hank. And calling in Francine, whose first loyalty was to her old friend, would only make matters worse.

She could drive out to the ranch and tell the partners what Hank was up to. But that would only fan the flames of the conflict—especially if Travis were to come flying into town to confront his father. Sooner or later, he would find out what Hank had done. But as a friend to both men, she couldn’t be the one to carry the news.

With a weary sigh, she backed her car to turn around. Just then a sleek white Cadillac cruised past her and headed on down the highway. Maggie didn’t recognize the expensive car, but she could see children in the back. She cheered silently as, almost out of sight, the car slowed and made a left turn toward the ranch. The family must have seen the ad in the Cottonwood Springs paper. With luck, the notice would bring more customers seeking fresh trees and a good time.

For now, all she could do was go back to work and put her mind on other things—like the pile of contracts she had to read, the checks she had to sign, and the Christmas Santa she had yet to find.

Taking care on the snow-slicked shoulder of the road, she swung her car around and headed back to town.

* * *

By noon, just four families had shown up at Christmas Tree Ranch. The first three had been from Cottonwood Springs. Two of them had bought trees off the lot while their children toasted marshmallows and made s’mores. Conner had driven the third family over the road in the ATV to cut their own tree and haul it back. All of them had enjoyed a wonderful time, and Travis had invited them back for sleigh rides when the snow got deeper. He could only hope they’d pass the word to their neighbors and bring him more customers. If business didn’t pick up in the days ahead, this venture would barely make expenses.

After the third family left, Travis had given the two teenage helpers their pay and sent them home for the day. There hadn’t been enough work to keep them busy.

The fourth customer was Travis’s neighbor, Jubal McFarland, who’d come over with his ten-year-old daughter, Gracie, leaving his wife and their toddler at home. They’d had a good time choosing a tree, making s’mores, and drinking hot chocolate. Gracie threw sticks for Bucket while her father conversed with Travis.

“You’ve got a nice setup here, Travis,” he said. “I hope it works out well for you and your partners.”

“Believe me, so do I,” Travis said. “But I’m getting worried. We were hoping to start out with a bang, but except for you, the only customers have come from Cottonwood Springs. We can’t figure why we haven’t seen more locals.”

“You don’t know?” Jubal looked startled for an instant, then shook his head. “My wife went to town earlier, and she told me when she came home. I’m sorry. I assumed you’d know by now.”

“Know what?” Travis felt a sick premonition.

“It’s Hank. He’s selling all his trees for half price today. Ellie said the place was mobbed when she drove by.”

“What the hell?” Conner rose from where he’d been tending the fire. “Did I just hear what I thi

nk I heard?”

Rush came down off the porch, where he’d been tallying the payments—not that there was much to tally. “That’s unbelievable. The old boy will lose money on every tree he sells.”