January realized that she hadn’t taken the time to describe to either of them what her perfect Christmas tree would look like. They were surrounded on all sides by Eastern White Pine, which would make the perfect tree, now she just had to find one that was the right height and width.
“We need a tree around seven and a half feet tall, and full. We also need to run our hands across the branches to check and see how healthy the tree is. We don’t want a lot of needles shedding.”
The group split up but stayed close as they each focused on the mission at hand. To January, every one seemed too tall or too bare. She couldn’t find the one.
“Hey!” Deckard shouted five minutes later from across the clearing. “What about this one?”
January rushed toward the sound of his voice and came to a stop when she caught a glimpse of the tree standing proudly beside Deckard, who looked equally as proud. His chest was puffed out and he rested his hands on his hips. It was adorable.
“That’s perfect,” she whispered. The emotions the moment conjured up soared through her so quickly she almost fell to the ground in her haste to get to Deckard. January launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist at the same time. She was glad he had sat down his ax because he was able to enfold her in his embrace.
“It’s so perfect.” January felt her breath move against the skin of his neck as she murmured.
“All right, Paul Bunyan. Let’s get this show on the road, I can’t feel my toes,” Samantha jokingly complained.
Deckard allowed January to slide down his body, making sure to add in a squeeze of her hand as he stepped away to grab the ax. With his guidance, the women stepped out of the way and watched as he effortlessly chopped down the tree.
In the plastic bag, Deckard retrieved and unpacked a tarp and some rope, creating a makeshift sleigh to carry the tree back to the truck.
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He refused their assistance to pull the contraption up the hill, but he didn’t seem to struggle with the weight, only adjusting his gloved hands once. The trees fell behind them until they were a small line in the distance and the two vehicles were in view.
“Do you want to come over to the house and help decorate?” January asked Samantha, but her friend politely declined as she had special plans to play out a mountain man fantasy with her beau.
They hugged goodbye just as Deckard finished loading the tree in the back of his truck.
“Ready?” she asked him as he closed the gate.
“Yep. Let’s get out of the cold. Up you go,” he gestured as he moved to hold her door open.
The ride to her house was quick, and though she knew that Deckard had been in her space before she nervously fidgeted in her seat, twisting her fingers and picking at the seam of her jeans.
He must have noticed because his hand settled on top of hers after he turned off the truck.
“Hey, what has you so worked up?”
He moved her hands so that he could grasp the one closest to him, intertwining their fingers. Instantly she was soothed by his touch. It was a revelation to January that this man could calm her down in an on the spot.
“I have no idea.”
“Is it me coming inside your house? I’ve been here before.”
“Uninvited, I might add.”
Chuckling Deckard said, “But always welcome.” She joined him with a giggle and her nerves dissipated even more.
“Do you want me to help bring the tree inside?”
“If you can open the door, I think I can manage.”
They both slipped out of the truck and January rushed up the stairs of her porch to open the door for Deckard, who had already lifted the tree and tarp free from the truck. Then she remembered the bucket and dirt they had picked up at the general store. Skipping back down to the vehicle, she grabbed the supplies and situated them in the house in the same spot her mother had placed the Christmas tree every year.
Together Deckard and January positioned the tree in the large metal bucket and settled the soil around it, making sure to add some water when they were finished.
Standing back to gaze at the flourishing addition, she noticed Deckard had a contemplative expression with pinched lips and narrowed eyes.
“What?”