At six sharp, Jake sat at a dining table that could’ve seated twelve but hosted only three. Barb and Cassie—who was younger than Barb by maybe twenty years, with dark hair pulled into a ponytail—served pot roast with vegetables and gravy that tasted better than anything Jake had eaten in months. Maybe years.
“So,” Cassie said, settling into her chair. “Barb says you’re here to help Wes.”
Jake glanced at Barb, who shrugged unapologetically.
“I can’t make promises,” Jake said carefully. “But I’m going to try.”
“Good.” Cassie passed him the rolls. “He needs it. That farm’s been in his family forever. It’d kill him to lose it.”
“Does he have support? I mean, aside from his father?”
“No,” Barb said. “But the town—we care about Wes. We look out for our own.”
“And he’s stubborn,” Cassie added.
Jake nodded. Nothing new there.
“How bad do things usually get here, I mean, for tree farms in winter?” Jake asked.
Cassie and Barb exchanged a look.
“Depends on the weather,” Barb said. “The ice storm in 2019 nearly destroyed Holiday Pines. They lost more than half of their stock overnight. Trees snapped like matchsticks under the weight of the ice.”
“Henry had his first small stroke two weeks later,” Cassie added quietly. “The doctor said it was stress-related. They barely scraped through that season.”
“Ice storms are a big fear around here,” Barb continued. “Worse than drought, worse than recession. At least those youcan see coming. An ice storm hits overnight, and by morning, everything’s destroyed.”
Jake filed that information away, understanding more what pressure Wes must be under.
“What he really needs,” Barb said, setting down her fork, “is a sustainable model. Christmas trees are great, but they’re seasonal. If he could generate income year-round instead of just November and December?—”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Jake said. “He’s got land.”
“Plenty. His grandfather used to run cattle before they switched fully to trees.”
Cassie leaned forward. “Barb’s brother-in-law Pedro runs a landscaping company. He had the same problem with seasonal slumps. So, he added tree removal and mulch production. Now, he even does event landscaping for weddings. It keeps his cash flow steady year-round.”
“Different model, but the principle’s the same. Wes would need to figure out what fits not only his land, but his skills.”
Barb nodded. “Pedro would probably talk to him. He’s good people. So’s his husband, Titus.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “Titus already tried to help Wes once. He offered to invest in the farm and become a partner. Wes turned him down flat.”
“Why?” Jake asked, even though he knew the answer.
“Pride,” Cassie said. “Wes doesn’t want a handout. He doesn’t want to owe anyone, especially not the town mayor. He’d rather lose the farm than feel like he couldn’t do it himself.”
Of course he would.
“So approaching this the wrong way could backfire,” Jake said.
“Exactly.” Barb met his eyes. “Whatever you propose, it has to feel like his choice. His plan. Not charity.”
Jake nodded slowly. That complicated things. But it also gave him insight into how to handle Wes—whenever they actually sat down to talk.
“Understood,” he said. “And I appreciate the heads-up.”
“Pedro would be willing to talk shop, I’m certain,” Barb said. “Compare notes on what has worked for him. What hasn’t. No pressure, just peer-to-peer. I could set up a meeting if you think it’d help.”
“It might,” Jake said. “Let me feel out where Wes is first. I don’t want to overwhelm him.”
