Cat had wokenup determined.She’d promised Olivia a tree, and she meant to keep that promise.Jillian couldn’t be allowed to make all the decisions for the family.
They saw Rhys off, who promised to be back in time for lunch, and so once he was gone, the girls dressed quickly, all in agreement that if they wanted to surprise him then they had to be quick.
By nine, she and the girls were wrapped in coats and scarves, trudging toward Bakewell with purpose and good cheer.The lane was muddy, the air cold and damp, but the girls didn’t seem to mind today.Olivia skipped ahead, humming carols, and even Jillian looked less guarded than usual.
Bakewell was bustling when they arrived—the market square strung with lights, the smell of roasted chestnuts and gingerbread in the air.Shop windows glittered with garlands and ribbons, and a brass quartet played “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” outside the bakery.
“Let’s start there!”Olivia cried, pointing to a greengrocer’s stall with Christmas trees propped along the wall.
Cat smiled.“All right, but we’re getting something small.We have to carry it home.”
Famous last words.
Half an hour later, Cat found herself staring at a tree that could have comfortably graced the Langley Park ballroom.It was tall, fragrant, full—and entirely unreasonable.
“This one,” Olivia said with conviction.“It’s the right shape, the right space between the branches, the right everything.”
“But it’s enormous,” Cat said faintly.“It won’t even fit through the cottage door.”
“Maybe… but only if you tilt it and jam the branches,” Jillian said, smirking.
“Absolutely not.”
But Olivia was already giving the vendor pleading eyes, and Jillian looked oh so smug, and because Olivia was the one who wanted the tree, Cat sighed and handed over a few crumpled notes.
The shopkeeper cheerfully wrapped the tree in netting and helped drag it to the curb.“You’ll manage, love,” he said with an encouraging wink.
Cat looked at the tree, then at the road home, then back at the tree again.“Manage,” she repeated under her breath.“Right.”
Just as she was trying to figure outhow, a familiar black Range Rover pulled into the square and slowed beside them.The window rolled down.
Rhys.
He looked both exasperated and faintly amused.“I thought you might need a hand.”
Cat could have laughed with relief.“How did you know?”
“Mrs.Johnson just left the butcher’s and saw you three struggling with the tree.She called me and said you girls are in need of rescuing.”
“You have impeccable timing,” Cat said, setting the tree down, and detangling a strand of hair that had become embedded in a fir branch already.
“I pictured something a little smaller,” he said dryly, parking at the curb, and getting out of the car.
A car honked as it was forced to drive around Rhys, but Rhys paid the driver no attention.
Olivia ran to him, delighted.“Daddy, look!Isn’t it perfect?”
Rhys took one long look at the tree—then at Cat—and raised an eyebrow.“Perfect,” he said gravely.“It’s a very nice Nordmann fir.Though I’m not sure it will fit through the cottage door.”
Jillian grinned.“I told her she’d be jamming the branches.”
“Traitor,” Cat muttered, earning a giggle from both girls.
Together, they wrestled the tree into the back of the Range Rover, branches brushing against the windows.Cat was laughing by the time the hatch finally latched.
Rhys shook his head.“I leave you three alone for one morning, and you buy half a forest.”
“It was a democratic decision,” Cat said primly, sliding into the passenger seat.“I was overruled.”
