“Perfect.” I turned around and then back to Beck. “Which way?”

  “Want me to drop you?”

  “Nah. I don’t want to pull you away. I could use the exercise.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and frowned.

  “I’m fine, Beck. It’s a gorgeous day.” I appreciated that everyone worried about me, I truly did. Even if it annoyed the crap out of me on some level.

  He sighed. “It’s on the edge of the McIntosh fields. Kinda near your place.”

  “Oh, okay. I know where that is. Thanks.”

  Looked like I had a bit of a walk on my hands.

  Chapter 3

  Clay

  The Christmas Tree Farm

  “Did you really leave clothes in the jet?”

  I ignored Ransom. He was still bitchy that I’d filed a flight plan without telling him. One of the perks of having my own plane and a hanger at my disposal which catered to people like my family.

  “You know I hate flying into this airport.”

  “Turnbull’s airport is less than a speck on the dot of the world. There’s no—”

  “There’s no security. And you won’t use a pseudonym for the flight. Anyone could be waiting for us.”

  “Do you hear how you sound? I’m not a White House dignitary, man.”

  “Nope, you’re worse. A billionaire tech dude with a brain full of secrets. You are going to give me an ulcer.”

  “That tiny airport is run by a geriatric farmer who could give two shits who I am.” I turned around and stepped down the stairs to the tarmac. I’d swapped my suit for jeans and a plaid shirt with my well-worn work boots while Ransom had locked down the plane in our bay.

  The farmer was a nice man, who didn’t mind taking my money. Especially since most of his income was made by other retirees who were learning to fly and a few crop dusters when things were in season.

  And it was well past the season.

  “Stay there, I’ll finish signing off on the flight.”

  I gave Ransom a snappy salute to which he flipped me off in response before stalking over to the tiny office.

  I wandered out of the hanger and dragged in a long hit of clean air. I might’ve lived and worked on riverfront property, but it was much different than rural central New York. It was a good ten degrees colder here and there was a pleasant bite to it. A quick flash of happy memories gave me the dopamine hit I’d been looking for.

  I’d spent the holidays in Turnbull as a child with my grandfather. He had an old cabin in the middle of nowhere, but to a boy who’d spent most of his time in boarding school, it had been heaven.

  The tree farm had been a way to get some of that happiness back. Hell, the name of the place actually was on the nose—Happy Acres.

  So when the parcel of land connected to the orchard had gone on the market, I’d jumped at it. I wasn’t the kind of man who could go into any project blind. I’d done my due diligence when it came to research. It was definitely a low risk, medium reward venture. This was a personal project that I rarely spoke of and I liked keeping it that way.

  The Manning-Ronson family only sold off the handful of acres out of necessity. The family had diversified and turned their business around and Beckett Manning had offered to buy it back every year since.

  I probably should have sold it back to him, but I never could seem to pull the trigger. The critical thinking side of me was decidedly absent when it came to this venture. Thanks to my grandfather’s old friend, I’d learned a lot about trees and my own business savvy had definitely come in handy. Toby Townes and I had even created a few hybrids that had put us on the map in the Christmas tree world.

  It was satisfying to have a hand in creating something that didn’t include a circuit board or code.

  Or my family name.

  Here, no one knew who the hell I was. Just that I was a city boy who liked to dabble in Christmas trees for some reason. And I was good with that.

  Ransom pulled up in the truck we kept in the hanger with my Cessna. I had a more luxurious jet for business, but my security psycho liked the less conspicuous plane for quick travel. And he was partial to it since his dad had taught him how to fly on one.

  I slid into the passenger side of the old Chevy.

  “How long are we staying?”

  “Might just be until tomorrow.” I glanced out the window at the the last gasp of autumn in the rolling hills that surrounded us. Winter wasn’t far away. “I have a dinner party I should attend Sunday.”

  “Just a dinner?” He shook his head. “It’s Danbury.”

  I rolled down the window. “I know.”

  Ransom turned on the radio. “You need to cut that chick loose if you’re not going to marry her.”

  I sighed again, but didn’t answer. My grandfather was deep into the idea of me marrying the Danbury heiress. Helena was sweet and kind and deserved a hell of a lot better than me.

  It didn’t take long to get to the tree farm. Turnbull was a small town and the vintage sign for Happy Acres came up quickly. It seemed that they’d updated the sign recently. They’d kept the same colors. I was learning that traditions were paramount to the people in small towns.

  The orchard had finished the bulk of the apple season and was now more focused on winter weddings and some overflow skiing traffic. Central New York wasn’t exactly a mecca for skiing like Telluride, but the sheer amount of white stuff that got dumped on the region got some snow types excitable. The orchard created trails for snowmobile enthusiasts as a draw.

  I appreciated Beckett Manning’s business sense. Maybe I could drag him out for a beer later and bend his ear about the tone of the customers this year.

  Ransom turned onto the unmarked road. I’d put up the old light board for Christmas trees soon enough, but for now, the priority was still preparation.

  The truck bounced and squeaked over the ruts in the road. The weathered barn was closed up tight, and Jim’s truck was missing.

  “Why don’t you go up and check on the cabin?” I suggested. “Make sure it’s all secure in your obsessive way.”

  “And leave you here?”

  “What, is a tree going to get me? Maybe a bunny?”

  Ransom gripped the wheel, his leather gloves squeaking with his ire.

  I hopped out as he rolled to a stop. “You know I’m right. Maybe you should get some of Laverne’s coffee. Might put you in a better mood.”

  He grunted, but he didn’t get out of the truck after me.

  I slammed the door and headed into the first quadrant of trees. Jim had been taking good care of the crop. Toby had officially retired this year and had handed over the reins to his son and daughter-in-law. It also looked like the weather had been cooperating.

  I took some time looking through the trees, and then I headed to the back of the planting operation where the newer seedlings that had been put in last year. Trees took a damn long time to be ready.

  I wasn’t the best at being patient.

  The edge of the property butted up against a line of pines that were older than me. A branch broke and I heard a thud of something landing on the ground. I followed the sound and frowned at a muttered curse.

  Another distinctive crack had me moving faster. Ransom would probably kick my ass, but if someone was hurt out here, no one would find them. At least not in a timely fashion.

  “Come on, you stupid thing.”

  I upped my pace to a jog and stopped at the foot of a huge white pine. A pair of saddle-colored knee-length boots dangled above me.

  I took off my sunglasses, but nope, the scene definitely didn’t change. I shoved them in my shirt pocket. “Do you need help?”

  The woman yelped before she toed her way back on the branch just below her. “I’m fine. Just move along.” Her voice was light and a little breathy.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I just need a branch from this big,” she grunted, then lightly patted the huge trunk of the tree, “lovely lady.”

  “The tree is female?”

  She paused, now both arms over her head. “Stately lady, I’d say. The one over there is more like a wise old professor.” She gestured vaguely. She hung like a monkey, her feet dangling again, and my hackles rose.

  “You’re going to break your damn neck.”

  “Nah, I already fell once. I’m still hale and hearty. Those needles are like a mattress down there.” She made another disgruntled noise and released the branch she held to rest on the branch below her. “I had to take off my sweater anyway. Too bulky.”

  “This sweater?” I picked up the oatmeal-colored lump draped over the roots of the tree.

  “Good guess.”

  I arched a brow. She was a smartass too. “You’re on my property.”

  “Actually.” She reached up again to pull on the branch and it cracked a little more. “It’s not anyone’s property. At the very least, it would technically be mine. Kind of.”

  This was probably the oddest conversation I’d ever had with a stranger. Then again, she wasn’t really paying attention to me.

  “Come on, give it up.” Her voice was sweet and cajoling. “I promise I’m not going to burn you. I’m going to make you beautiful.”

  Officially weirdest day ever. “Then why didn’t you bring a saw?”

  She finally glanced down at me and I got my first look at huge blue eyes partially hidden by dark fringe. She blew her overlong bangs out of her eyes only to have them fall right back into place. “That is a good question. It was kind of an impulsive—” She grunted as the branch finally snapped free.

  I stumbled back, about three seconds away from being beaned by the damn thing.

  “Whew! Thing.” She grinned down at me as I landed on my ass.

  She was correct. The pine needles were thick, but I questioned the firmness of her mattress. They weren’t that soft.

  She laughed. “Sorry about that.”

  I scrambled to my feet.

  “Okay down there?”

  I brushed off the seat of my jeans. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Hey, you should probably back up a little bit more.”

  “Why? Are you going to Hulk smash the whole tree?”

  “No. Well, maybe if this branch doesn’t work for what I need.” She brushed her hands together and a dusting of bark dust sparkled in the air, landing in my hair. She gave me an expectant look, then shooed me. “I’m coming down.”

  I backed up with a frown. “Just like that? It’s like almost eight feet.”

  She stepped off the branch and landed lightly in front of me. “I’ve been climbing trees since I was five.”

  The scent of blackberries and pine blasted me back another step. Her cheeks were pink with exertion and her eyes were even more startling up close. A clear summer sky blue.

  She took the sweater from me and shrugged it on. “Thanks.” She hurried over to the branch.

  “Let me help.”

  “Got it.” She hoisted the branch up over her shoulder and nearly took me out with the sharp end.

  I ducked just before she could give me a black eye. I felt ridiculous as I chased after her. “I don’t see a truck.”

  “Don’t have one. Walking.” She waved over her shoulder.

  “Who are you?”

  She just waved again and took off toward the orchard. She was a tiny thing, but her ass was fantastic.

  And I definitely shouldn’t be looking at her ass.

  I raked my fingers through my hair and a dusting of needles and debris fell around me. “What the hell just happened?”

  I patted my shirt pocket for my sunglasses, then put them back on.

  The slam of a truck door had me running back into the dense rows of Douglas firs. Pushing the strange meeting to the back of my mind, I waved to Jim Townes.

  “Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming in for another week at least.”

  “Couldn’t stay away.” I held my hand out to the tall Black man.

  He shook it warmly. “Feels like we’ve been playing email tag all year.”

  “I was tired of the emails. I did appreciate all the videos and photos keeping me up to date though.”

  “That’s all Mary.” He nodded to the pixie-sized woman who was hauling the barn doors open.

  She waved and her chestnut brown hair blew around her face. Her cheeks were rosy and her gray eyes matched the skyline. “Hey, Clay.” She gave her husband a quizzical look as she trotted over to us. “Did we know he was coming,” she asked out of the side of her mouth.

  I laughed. “Surprise visit. I don’t want to get in the way. Just wanted to see how it was going and to make sure we were good for Black Friday.”

  Mary hooked her arm through Jim’s. “I had a thought about that. I’ve been talking to Laverne’s niece. She’s a marketing queen. I can’t even comprehend all the ideas she had, but she sure got me excited.”

  I didn’t even know Laverne had a niece. It shouldn’t have surprised me, since family seemed to always be coming out of the trees around the orchard. Probably part of the small town thing.

  “Anyway, she convinced me to start an actual newsletter with all the signups we have from people who return every year. I figured maybe we’d send out a special invitation to them. You know, a first choice kind of thing.”

  Jim shrugged when I glanced at him. “No idea. She’s the smart one. I just haul stuff.”

  She slapped his arm. “Stop.”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “I’m okay with you being the smart one.”

  I shoved my hands into my pockets. Easy affection was weird to me. I wasn’t sure my parents even slept in the same bed anymore. Hell, maybe separate wings. I certainly hadn’t been home to see them in a damn long time.

  Jim cleared his throat.

  I smiled. “It’s a great idea. We’ll talk about it over coffee later?”

  Mary nodded. “I’ll meet you guys in the barn when you’re done.”

  Jim pulled a ratty ball cap out of his back pocket and pulled it on. “Let me show you around. We have a great crop ready to go, and I’ll show you how the babies have been doing.”

  I was much more comfortable with that idea.

  I followed him into the nursery. I listened to Jim with half an ear. I kept up with all the emails and reports he’d sent my way through the year, so it wasn’t anything I didn’t already know. But seeing the bulk of the trees coming to age now, finally, after all the years I’d owned the farm was definitely a heady thing.

  He filled me in on the crew he’d hired on from the orchard who would help cut the trees for those who wanted to pick out their little pieces of holiday perfection for the utmost freshness. The crew even included a few helpers who were patient enough to assist customers cut down their own tree if they so chose.

  As we got to the edge of the row of blue spruce trees, we came to the road where my mystery woman had stolen a branch from one of my trees. It was my property—she’d been mistaken there.

  I’d bought to the edge of the road and into the plot of land outside Happy Acres in case I wanted to expand or even just to keep the wild, perfect landscape it was. Maitland Enterprises was buying up land from here to Crescent Lake and I didn’t really want a row of condos bumping into my little slice of serenity.

  “What are you looking at? Did you decide to start extending our planting?”

  I glanced over at Jim. “No. Not just yet.” I opened my mouth to ask about the oddly enticing woman, but I decided I wanted to keep her a mystery a little while longer.

  Reality usually was far less interesting.

  Chapter 4

  Rachel

  The Betrayal

  I hopped out of Beck’s truck. “Thanks for the ride. You didn’t have to go all the way out to get me though.”

  “It was twenty-three degrees this morning.”

  “Just a brisk walk, that’s all.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be here to bring you home.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Don’t argue with me, Beans.”

  I wrinkled my nose. One thing I hadn’t missed about the farm was my nickname from the Manning boys. “Taylor will probably drop me, we have the same schedule today.”

  He handed me my cup of coffee. “Then text me if it changes.” When I didn’t answer, he held the cup back from me. “Promise me.”

  I couldn’t stop the smile as I grabbed my cup. “Yes, sir.”

  “Now go on, get.”

  I held my cup up in salute and slammed the heavy door. I flipped the end of one of my homemade scarves over my shoulder. I so didn’t want to pull out my parka. It seemed like once it was out, there was no going back to warmer days.

  Like yesterday, when I’d run into that man near the Christmas trees. Those were the kind of perfect fall days I would be sad to see go. Beckett had been right about the abundance of pine trees out that way, but stupid me had figured I would find branches on the ground.

  We’d had some wicked storms recently and I’d had to help clean up branches that had flown around. Evidently, those pine trees were made of sturdier stuff. The only branches I’d found were for making s’mores.

  The stranger had surprised me—well, not exactly a stranger, since my family certainly knew him, but I’d never run into him in all the years I’d been coming to the farm.

  Okay, so the visits had been far and few between lately. My business—nope. Not mine anymore. In my former life, I’d missed most holidays because I’d been taking care of my clients instead of my own family.

  And myself.

  Regardless, I’d looked a fool in front of him. The crazy lady climbing a tree without tools. I shook my head, but I stopped dead in my tracks as I stepped forward and the window of the shop came into view.

  “Worth it,” I whispered.

  I’d finished tying the wreaths on the branch, but I’d left it for one of the guys to hang for me. Power tools were a little out of my wheelhouse. At least with a branch that size.