Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch 3)

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Early Friday morning, Conner woke to the sound of water dripping off the eaves of the house. His heart sank. It wasn’t a good sign.

With a muttered curse, he swung out of bed, strode down the hall, and out onto the front porch. Barefoot and still clad in the long johns he wore for sleep, he stared out past the overhang of the roof.

A warm chinook wind had swept in during the night, raising the outside temperature by a good twenty degrees. There was nothing left of the snow but a few melting white ridges where it had been scraped and piled. The front yard was a sea of puddles and gooey Texas mud, and the graveled driveway didn’t appear much better.

Bucket had followed him outside. With a happy yip, the dog raced off the porch and jumped into the nearest mud puddle, splashing and rolling in pure doggy joy. Scowling like a thundercloud, Conner shook his head. The blasted mutt would have to be kept outside until he could be bathed. Even then, he’d probably run right back to play in the mud again.

But that was the least of Conner’s troubles. He’d planned to spend the day restocking the freshly cut tree supply for the late shoppers who’d be showing up this weekend. Hank’s lot in town would need trees, too—even more so, now that the ranch yard was a lake of mud.

Yesterday, with the ground still snowy and frozen, harvesting the trees wouldn’t have been a problem. Today the trail to the trees would be a quagmire. The ATV’s thick tires, and the ones on the trailer, would be in danger of getting bogged down. And keeping the cut trees clean would be extra work. With the water to the outside hose shut down for the winter, mud couldn’t be allowed to get on their branches.

Travis had come out onto the porch. For a few minutes, he stood in gloomy silence, watching Bucket romp in the mud. “At least the damn dog’s happy,” he said.

“Yeah,” Conner agreed. “It’s going to be a long day. We might as well drag out our muck boots and get started. If you’ll fix breakfast, I’ll see to the horses. By the time we’ve eaten, Rush should be here to help.”

“He’s going to be late,” Travis said. “I just got a call. He’s been tending a sick mare most of the night, and she’s still not out of the woods. For now, it’ll be just you and me.”

“Then we’ll have to manage, won’t we?” Conner had no cause to complain about Rush’s absence. It was understood that he was free to answer emergency vet calls. And the financial support he lent to the ranch more than made up for the times when he wasn’t around to work.

In the house, Conner filled Bucket’s bowl with kibble and set it on the porch so the dog could eat outside. With that done, he put on his oldest work clothes and tall rubber boots and went out to the barn. At least it wasn’t cold. But by the time the day was over, he and Travis would likely be as dirty as Bucket.

“No sleigh rides for you guys today.” Conner spoke to the horses as he gave them fresh hay and water and shoveled the manure out of their stalls. “You can take it easy till it snows again, or until the big Christmas Parade, whichever happens first.”

And that was one more problem, Conner mused as he sloshed his way back to the house. The sleigh rides were a source of extra income for the ranch. But most Texas winters tended to be dry. Snow for the holidays was a rare gift. This year, the partners had hoped it would last. But now the snow was gone, most likely for the season. If there was no more snow, there’d be no more cash coming in from sleigh rides. The new equipment they’d planned to buy for the ranch would have to wait.

On the porch, he kicked off the muddy boots and left them at the top of the steps. In the kitchen, Travis had brewed coffee, fried bacon, and was scrambling eggs in the drippings.

“How’s it looking out there?” he asked.

“About how you’d expect. We’ll be working in mud halfway up to our knees. But don’t look so gloomy. Ten days from now, you’ll be setting out on the sea of matrimony with the lovely Maggie. That should be enough to make any man smile.”

“You’re right.” Travis gave a halfhearted chuckle. “But I’m glad I only have to go through the blasted wedding once. If I could have my way, I’d just skip it and go right to the honeymoon.”

“In sunny Hawaii. You’ll be the envy of every man on the beach.” Conner filled his plate and coffee mug and began wolfing down his breakfast. The muddy conditions meant that he and Travis would have to work together felling the trees, keeping them clear of the ground. With Rush gone, that would mean leaving the front-yard tree lot unattended—not that they expected customers this morning. For now, they would have to hang a CLOSED sign on the gate until Rush showed up to lend a hand.

Twenty minutes later, they had the ATV out of the shed and the small two-wheeled flatbed hitched onto the back. Bucket caught up with them and made a flying leap onto the backseat as they passed the barn and headed out of the yard.

The narrow, rutted trail skimmed the pastures and crossed the scrubby foothills to the hollow where the dark green pine trees stood like a miniature forest against the gray landscape. The thawing snow had left a thick layer of mud that clung to the tires and made a plopping sound as the wheels turned. In low spots, the ATV sank almost to its axles before roaring back onto more solid ground.

After turning around and parking at the edge of the trees, they began harvesting, one man cutting through the trunk with the chain saw, the other catching the tree as it fell and carrying it to the trailer. Switching places as needed, they worked at a brisk pace. In less than an hour, the flatbed trailer was piled with freshly cut trees. As he helped Travis wrap the load with a long, stout rope, Conner filled his senses with their spicy fragrance. For him, the fresh aroma held all the magic of Christmas. And this Christmas just might be the best one of his life.

Travis pulled the rope ends together and tied them into a knot to secure the trees to the flatbed for the ride back to the ranch. There the trailer would be hitched to his pickup and hauled by back roads to the lot outside Hank’s Hardware.

Whistling for Bucket, who’d gone off on his own, they climbed into the front seat of the ATV. Conner had just started the engine when the dog came flying out of the trees and leapt into the backseat. Before settling down, he shook his fur, scattering mud in all directions. By then, Travis and Conner were too dirty to mind.

As they drove back toward the ranch yard, it became clear that the added weight on the trailer was going to be a problem. The wheels, which were sunk axle deep in mud, could barely turn. The ATV had to be run full throttle to keep the trailer inching along. Conner began to wonder whether they should unload half the trees and leave them behind, to be picked up later. But with the ATV’s engine roaring in their ears, there was no way for Travis to hear his suggestion. There was also the problem that any trees they unloaded would have to be left in the mud. It was too bad they hadn’t thought to bring a canvas tarp along. But that was his own fault, Conner berated himself. A man ten days from his wedding couldn’t be held accountable for such details.

They were not quite halfway back to the yard when the trailer stopped with a lurch, its two wheels hopelessly mired. Conner gunned the engine, but the ATV’s wheels only spun in the mud without moving forward.

Cursing, Conner shut down the vehicle and Travis got out to check the trailer. After a quick look, he shook his head. “We can’t pull it out. We’re going to have to dig around the wheels. Toss me the shovel.”

A short-handled shovel was kept under the backseat of the ATV. Unfortunately, there was only one. Conner found it and handed it to Travis. “If we unhitch the trailer, I can run the ATV back to the ranch for another shovel and a tarp so we can unload some of the trees,” he said. “Or I could bring the pickup. It’ll have more power.”

“Don’t bother.” Travis thrust the shovel blade into the muck. “It won’t take me fifteen minutes to free these wheels.”

While Travis shoveled, Conner helped by gathering rocks and chunks of brush to shove under the trailer wheels. The work was harder than they’d expected, every shovelful of water-soaked mud like a leaden weight. By the time Travis had dug out one wheel, he was ready for a rest. Conner took over to free the second wheel. By the time the wheels were free and braced underneath, both men were worn-out.