Ginger stepped out of her car and onto the crisp blanket of snow covering the Woodward farm. Mason had called last night to tell her she had the all-clear to try her solution on the trees. She needed one last piece of information and had chosen to come just past sunrise armed with a thermos of hot coffee and an unyielding determination to get the job done.
She figured she could find her way around without disturbing anyone, especially grumpy Ethan Woodward, so she parked in about the same spot Mason and Kristen had driven her to the day before. She stood looking at the rows of Christmas trees stretched across the land, each one dusted with a delicate layer of frost that sparkled as the first rays of sun began to peek over the horizon.
“Nothing like the scent of fresh pine in the morning,” she whispered to herself then inhaled deeply before taking off toward the location of the balsam firs Kristen had shown her the previous day.
As she ventured farther into the trees, Ginger couldn’t help but marvel at the peaceful atmosphere surrounding her. The world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the day ahead, and she found herself momentarily lost in the beauty of it all. A nearby squirrel chattered its disapproval at her intrusion, snapping her back to reality.
“All right, all right, I’m here for the balsam section, not to disturb your breakfast,” she muttered, rolling her eyes at the creature, whose fur was puffed up against the cold, making it look larger than usual.
Ginger almost had her formula perfected. It was a difficult one because she’d needed to add not only the right ingredients to bring the tree back into balance, but also an accelerator so that the tree soaked up the mixture fast. They didn’t have long to get the balsams into tip-top shape.
With renewed focus, Ginger made her way to the specific section she’d visited, where the tallest tree stood proudly among its peers. It was now her mission to collect some needles from the very top of the tallest tree. That would provide her with the final piece of information. Too bad she couldn’t reach the very top.
“Ten feet,” she mused, craning her neck to estimate the height. “Piece of cake.” Of course there were shorter trees—she could reach those. The tallest tree was best, though, and Ginger always had to do her best.
She could climb the tree, but since she was prone to be klutzy, that usually never ended well. But… a little way over was a big shed. Maybe there was a ladder inside?
She made her way over and opened the latch. Inside was a rusty plow, shovels, and bags of various fertilizers. A tall ladder leaned against the side wall.
“Jackpot!” she exclaimed, grinning triumphantly. As she approached the ladder, she noticed it seemed to have been untouched for quite some time. She wrangled it out of the shed without too much damage to herself.
“Who needs a gym membership when you’ve got a ladder workout?” Ginger blew strands of hair out of her face and picked up the ladder. Her arms strained under the weight as she dragged it back to the tree.
“All right, let’s do this,” she said, placing the ladder against the tall balsam. The branches of the tree kept the ladder from being secure, and it swayed as she stepped onto the first rung.
“Ten feet, nothing to be afraid of,” Ginger reassured herself. Ten feet wasn’t that high. Probably nothing would happen but a few bruises if she fell. “Just a few more steps, Ginger, you got this.”
As she reached the top, the balsam’s sweet scent filled her nostrils, conjuring up cozy Christmas visions, but those were short-lived as her clumsy nature reared its head.
“Ooh!” Ginger yelped as the ladder started to lurch. Her foot slipped off the rung, sending her arms flailing in a desperate attempt to regain her balance. Time seemed to slow down as she teetered precariously on the ladder, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum. She reached out to grab a branch to steady herself, but it slid out of her grasp.
“Whoopsie-daisy” was the last thing Ginger managed to utter before she plummeted to the ground. The world seemed to spin around her, and it took an awful long time for her to hit the ground. As soon as she did, an agonizing pain shot through her leg. Ginger’s eyes widened in shock as she heard a sickening snap. “Oh no,” she gasped. “That can’t be good at all.” She knew her clumsiness had finally caught up with her—it was just like the time she’d slipped on a banana peel while giving a presentation about plant genomes.
Crap, no one knows I’m out here,she thought bitterly, her vision starting to blur from the excruciating pain. The last thing she remembered seeing was Ethan Woodward running from the side of the shed, his face twisted in an even grumpier expression than usual.
Great, here comes the last person I want to rescue mewas her last thought before she passed out.
Chapter9
The scream echoed through the crisp morning air, and Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. He abandoned the steaming mug of coffee he had been nursing and sprinted toward the sound.
The scream had come from a woman.Mom? Kristen? What happened? What in the world were they doing out so early in the morning?The scream had terrified him. He couldn’t risk losing another family member.
He came around the small shed near the balsam firs and saw someone crumpled in the snow next to the tallest tree, a toppled ladder beside her. It wasn’t his mother or Kristen. It was Ginger!
He rushed over, knelt beside her, and checked for signs of life. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt her breath on his hand, but his worry didn’t dissipate completely. She was pale, the whiteness of her skin making her hair look even more fiery. Her breathing was shallow, and the angle her left leg was bent in made Ethan cringe.
Ginger began to stir, groaning in pain. Her eyes flickered open, and Ethan was momentarily taken aback by the brilliant green color and the flecks of gold that he hadn’t noticed yesterday.
“Try not to move,” Ethan said as his mind raced ahead, figuring how to get her to the hospital. There was only one ambulance for several towns. It would be faster for him to drive her.
“Ugh… my leg,” she mumbled weakly, her face contorted with pain.
“All right, Ginger. Hang in there. We’ll get you some help,” he reassured her, doing his best to keep his voice steady.
As he carefully lifted her into his arms, trying to avoid causing any further pain, he couldn’t help but notice how light she felt. It seemed so strange that someone so full of life could be so fragile in his grasp.
“Okay, here we go,” he murmured as he started carrying her toward his truck.
