“Fine, let’s get your tree. I still say it’s terrible to cut down a live one when there are so many that will go to waste. As a doctor, you should have more of a healthy respect for life.” She gave him half a wink after her last remark.
“But the cutting down is the best part, Sage. And we try to make it all up to Mother Nature. For every Christmas tree we cut down, in the spring we get saplings we’ve been growing at home and plant two more here to replace the old one. It’s been a Whitman tradition from our first Christmas together.”
That stopped Sage. She walked beside him, turning her head to see if he was serious. That was a pretty great tradition. “Really? Can you point out any that you’ve planted?”
They moved through the trees of various heights. “I planted those four over there. Camden planted those three,” he said, pointing to three huge pines. “And Michael planted that small group. The four over there, looking kinda frail, Jackson planted. I wanted that one Cam planted for our Christmas tree last year, but you would have thought I’d wanted to slay his firstborn. I don’t think we’ve ever cut down any of the trees we’ve planted. We’d rather see how much they’ve grown each year.”
The area was crowded with trees, and as Spence and Sage weaved their way through it all, she stopped to examine different ones. She’d exclaim that she’d found a perfect one, then find fault with it after circling it a few times. After an hour, Spence lifted her into his arms and kissed her again.
“What?” she asked when she was able to catch her breath.
“I never realized there was such science to picking out a Christmas tree. You do realize that I’ll need you by my side each year from here on out so I don’t make such a grievous error as to get an imperfect one.”
“Are you making fun of me, Spence?” she asked in mock anger. She knew she could be a bit unbalanced in certain shaky situations. It was just who she was.
“Make fun of you? I’d never be so foolish as to do something like that.”
As she flung her arms around his neck and rested her head against his chest, the snow coated their shoulders, and she didn’t even notice. It was cold and wet, but all she could think about was how safe she felt. Even the stinging of her red nose and cheeks didn’t bother her when she was in his arms.
Then she spotted it. They had to have passed it before, but she knew this was the tree. It stood about ten feet tall, which would be fine with the soaring ceilings in his living room. The branches were full and lush, with ample room for a whole lot of ornaments, and the tree was almost calling her name.
She pushed off against him and walked over to it, then circled it several times before stopping and nodding her head. “This is the one. It’s a perfect tree,” Sage said, a smile lighting up her face. This was the first time she’d ever come out to the woods to cut a tree, and though she’d been resistant the entire way, it now looked like Spence wasn’t the only one addicted.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to cut it down and then have you change your mind,” he said as he picked up his ax.
“I’m positive. Swing away, Mountain Man.”
“I knew I should have worn that red-checked flannel.” Spence flexed his arm, walked over to the tree, and bent to clear the snow from the base so he could see what he was doing before standing back up.
“Now that’s a fantasy I’ve never had,” she said as she watched him lean back and then swing the ax forward. She was mesmerized by the rhythm, the accuracy of his body in motion. A slight sweat broke out on his brow and she found herself wanting to tackle him and have her way with him right there on the frozen ground. Just for cutting down a tree. Ridiculous.
“Timber,” he called as the ax cut through the last of the base and the tree began to fall. The snow cushioned its fall, and a swirl of fresh white powder flew up into the air. He quickly removed a few of the bottom branches to give himself a bigger area to hold on to and then turned toward her. The snow was falling so thickly at this point that they had only about six feet of visibility in front of them.
“I think that storm has hit,” he said as he grabbed the tree with one hand and took her gloved fingers with the other.
“Yes, it’s really coming down. I hope you know your way back to the truck.”
There was a rustling in the bushes to Sage’s left, and she stopped. “What was that?” she whispered, knowing they should probably move, but her legs were frozen solid.
“It’s just a deer.”
“Are you sure?” Her knees finally unlocked, and she started walking beside him again.
“Positive. We need to hurry, though. I want to get down the hill before this turns into a full-blown blizzard.”
His pace was making her breathe heavily. She was used to being on her feet all night long, but she wasn’t used to hiking through snowy woods. When his truck came into view, she breathed a sigh of relief, then attempted to help when he lugged the tree onto the bed of his truck. When he opened the passenger door for her, she heard rustling again and whirled around toward it.
“Oh, Spence!”
He turned in the direction she was looking, and before them, practically close enough to touch, were several huge stags, their antlers reaching toward the sky.
“They’re gorgeous, and must be having a hard time finding food if they’re getting this close,” he said, wrapping an arm around her.
“Do you think they’d let me pet them?” She was surprised by how much she wanted to. She’d normally be thinking of the diseases they could be carrying, or the bugs in their fur.