The morning sun was just beginning to rise over the ridge when I stepped onto the porch, coffee mug in hand. Frost shimmered across the fields, turning every fencepost silver. The air held that clean winter stillness right before the day woke up, when sound traveled farther and sharper. I took a sip, the coffee hot enough to sting my tongue, and inhaled the wood smoke curling from the chimney. The sky glowed pale gold at the edges, with clouds thin and bright.
It was tree day.
Around here, that meant controlled chaos, laughter, and more snowball fights than any sane person wanted before nine in the morning. The whole ranch crew, every partner, every wife, and every kid, piled into trucks and trailers, headed for Gwen and Wes’s Christmas tree farm. It was tradition. Loud, messy, and perfect.
Kristin stepped out behind me, pulling on her gloves. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and her breath billowed out in small clouds. She wore my old flannel under a heavy jacket, her hair tucked into a cream-colored beanie. The sight hit me hard. She looked both domestic and wild, the kind of beauty that made me forget how to think straight.
“What?” she asked when she caught me staring.
“Nothing,” I said, leaning back against the railing. “Just thinking you make winter look good.”
She smirked, tugging her hat lower. “You say that now. Wait until I make you haul a twelve-foot spruce through three feet of snow.”
“I’ll survive.” I took another sip of coffee, watching the frost glint on her jacket. “Can’t be worse than breaking colts with Kipp.”
Kristin laughed, a sound that always caught me off guard. It carried warmth through the cold morning, brighter than the sunlight hitting the fields. “You’re out of practice, babe.”
The word rolled off her tongue like sugar, and if I “Maybe,” I said. “Guess I could use the workout.”
Before she could fire back, a string of honks broke the quiet. Two trucks rolled into the yard, tires crunching over ice, engines growling low. Kipp and Nora in one, Ryder and Lexie in the other, both loaded with kids. Doors flew open like gates at a rodeo chute, chaos spilling out in every direction.
Cooper darted out first, snow already flying from his hands toward Nash’s truck before Nash even parked. Nora chased him, half laughing, half scolding, while Kipp yelled something about not hitting the windshield. Fallon climbed down from Nash’s truck next, followed by Josie and Lottie, both bundled in coats so big they could barely move. They waddled through the snow, giggling. Griff and Elle’s kids, Parker and Cora, tumbled after, shrieking when cold powder found its way down their collars.
Lexie’s crew arrived next: Ruby, Sawyer, Sara, Andrew, West, and Wyatt—each louder than the last. Boots crunched, laughter echoed, and someone’s dog barked from the bed of a truck.
I set my coffee on the porch railing and stepped off to meet them, the cold biting through my jeans. “Morning, everyone,” I called.
Ryder gave me a lazy salute. “Morning. Are you ready for this?”
“Define ready,” I said.
“Prepared for mayhem,” Nash added, lifting his daughter down from the tailgate.
“Then no,” I said, grinning. “Not even close.”
Julie and Phil’s truck rolled in last, the engine backfiring loud enough to make half the horses in the barn jump. Julie leaned out the window, scarf flapping like a flag. “You boys done talking? We’re burning daylight!”
Kristin laughed beside me, shaking her head. Her breath puffed in front of her, catching the light. “You sure we can’t just go back into the house and hide?”
“They’ll find us,” I grumbled. “Let’s go find a tree, then we can hide for days.”
The convoy leaving the yard looked like a parade from some small-town holiday postcard: three trucks, a trailer, and a swirling cloud of snow dust behind us. Music drifted faintly from Ryder’s cab, and every so often a kid’s laugh carried through the open windows.
By the time we pulled into Gwen and Wes’s long drive, the farm was already buzzing. Rows of evergreens stretched over the rolling hills, each one brushed with snow. The barn was strung with Christmas lights, their warm glow flickering against the frost. A hand-painted sign readHARP TREE FARM, the letters curling in Gwen’s careful script. The air smelled like cedar, fresh sap, and strong coffee. Smoke rose in a thin line from the chimney of the farm store, dissolving into the bright morning sky.
Gwen stood near the sleigh corral, waving both arms as we parked. Her red coat looked like something out of a Christmas card, her white hair tucked beneath a knitted hood. Wes stoodbeside her, layered in denim and flannel, his beard silvered with frost and his grin wide enough to melt half the snow on the hill.
“Well, look who decided to show up!” Gwen hollered, voice bright enough to carry over the sound of engines and shouting kids. “I thought the big city barrel racer forgot all about us!”
Kristin laughed and strode straight over to hug her. “You know I wouldn’t miss this.”
Wes clapped me on the shoulder as I joined them. His grip was solid, the kind that meant something. “Glad to see you, son. Heard rumors she finally stopped running and let you catch her.”
Kristin rolled her eyes, but her cheeks turned redder than the cold could make them. “You heard right.” I grinned. “Chased her all across this country and finally caught up to her in Vegas.”
Behind us, the yard had turned into a full-blown snow battlefield. Cooper had already built a fort and declared war on Ruby and Sawyer. Josie and Lottie were arming themselves with snowballs half their size, and even the older boys who pretended they were too grown for it were soon diving into the fray, yelling and laughing.
Lexie and Fallon tried to keep hats on heads and scarves wrapped, while Elle helped Gwen pour steaming cocoa into tin mugs from a dented thermos. The smell of chocolate and pine filled the cold air.
