Kent came down from the ladder and stood back to admire his handiwork. “I think that looks good. You know, I carry twelve colors of garland in the store. Maybe I should add some more colors. People have asked for yellow and light blue too.”
“I think maybe twelve colors is enough.” Mason watched his father pull another sparkly garland out of the bag. This one was magenta. “Maybe you could do the magenta down by the mailbox post.”
“Good idea,” Kent said. “Though no one drives down this road too much. Still, it’s important for us to get in the spirit. Especially in a small town.”
“I’ll bet. Seems like you’re settling in pretty well. Do you really like it here?” Mason asked. They’d always lived in more urban towns, but his dad had chosen to settle in Pinecone Falls because it was the quintessential Christmas town, which was perfect for his new business.
“It’s great.” Kent set the garland aside and picked up the hammer to bang a nail into the trim on top of the porch, this time to hang an oversized Christmas ornament. “Small-town life is a slower pace. I need that.” Kent turned his steely blue eyes on Mason. Sometimes, those eyes could be cold, but right now, they radiated only love and kindness. “Might not be a bad idea for you to think about settling down here too, you know. You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you want. All that travel gets to a man after a while. Aren’t you ready to settle down?”
Mason wasn’t ready to settle down. He thrived on the fast-paced life of traveling and sales. Okay, maybe the last year had been a little hard. The constant travel wasn’t as exciting, and the long hours had been taking their toll on him. And his boss had become more demanding.
Mason headed up the trade show division at Hardy Fertilizer, and his job consisted of going to trade shows and setting up booths in which they could show off their product to potential clients as well as other businesses. The problem was that lately, his boss had been asking him to make discreet observations about any weaknesses in their competitors’ products and strategies. He’d even suggested that maybe Mason could do a little spying. Mason was all for making a superior product, but he drew the line at spying. Spying just wasn’t fair.
Right now, Mason was on vacation. Helping his dad get settled in his new house and set up the store was a good break from his job, and hopefully, he would be ready to hit the trade show circuit again after the holiday. After all, he couldn’t stay in this small town for too long, or he’d probably go stir crazy. But Mason wanted to be sure his dad’s business was all set up before he left. Which reminded him, they had plenty of business to talk about.
“What other marketing things have you got going on besides decorating your house?” Mason asked.
“Well, this business is a little different than my motor parts businesses, and I guess I’m going to have to get involved in some town activities.” Kent gestured for Mason to hand him an ornament from a pile on the chair.
Mason picked one shaped like a snowflake.
“Town activities?” He tried not to laugh. His dad wasn’t exactly the town activity type.
“Yeah, they’ve got things like wreath building and tree lighting, but the biggest thing is this skating party. Lots of people come from all over, and one business gets to decorate the skating pond. It’s usually that Christmas tree farm across the street.” Kent tilted his head toward the road.
Mason glanced over. He’d noticed the big old house but hadn’t realized it had a Christmas tree farm.
“That’s a Christmas tree farm?” Mason craned his neck to see around the house.
“Yep. They have acres of trees back there.”
“Huh. Kinda weird that you bought the house across from a Christmas tree farm when you sell artificial trees,” Mason said.
Kent chuckled. “I guess. But I sell my trees in the store, and they sell theirs from the farm.” He held his hand out for another ornament, and Mason handed it to him. “Anyway, I guess I need to go down to the town hall and find out more. I have a meeting to talk to this Irene Sanders lady about the skating pond. I’d like to try my hand at decorating it. Plus the fact that you get to put up a big sign advertising your business doesn’t hurt.”
Mason frowned. “But if the Christmas tree farm usually does it, won’t that cause a conflict?”
Ken shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard some folks at the diner say they were looking for someone to decorate it. Maybe the tree farm doesn’t want to do it this year.”
Mason handed his dad another ornament. “Hey, while I’m in town, maybe I could help you make some of these connections. You know, be the face of the company? It’s what I do all day, and I’m pretty good at it.” Not to mention that sometimes his dad’s gruff demeanor could work against him.
Kent looked relieved. “Would you? That would be a huge help.”
“No problem. Consider it done. Just let me know what time you’re meeting this lady, and I’m sure I can schmooze her into giving us an opportunity to decorate the skating pond.”
Chapter 4
Kristen had a cozy night with her mom. They enjoyed some wine and conversation around the dinner table before relaxing in front of the fire in the den while discussing plans for the tree farm.
Once her mother went to bed, Kristen went to her own room and unpacked her clothes. It felt strange setting up in her old room again, but her mother had rearranged things and put out some of the items Kristen had sent ahead. Not everything though, which was good, because it meant that her mother understood that Kristen would only be living in the house until she could get settled and find her own place and that she wasn’t trying to push her to live in the old farmhouse forever. Dorothy had said she just wanted her to feel at home as an adult and not like she was in high school again, so she’d put a few things in the room and had Ethan store the rest in the barn.
The day had been exhausting, and Kristen had slept like a log, awakening to find a fresh dusting of snow outside her window and someone staring at her inside: George.
The smell of bacon and coffee wafted up. Kristen got dressed quickly and padded down the stairs in her thick wool socks. George beat her down, and he was sitting on the floor at her mother’s feet, watching her cook.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” her mother said. “I thought you might like a big breakfast this morning.”
Kristen’s stomach grumbled, and she realized she was starving. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, kissing her cheek. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
