“No way. I’m reading between your lines loud and clear, buddy. She’s all yours.”
But she wasn’t. Not even remotely.
They climbed the rest of the way up the hill, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and “Jingle Bells” spurring their movements along with the Christmassy beat. When the log cabin came into view behind a crest of evergreens, Holden signaled for Lance to follow him. They took cover behind an old shed.
“This is the place,” Holden whispered.
“Wow. That’s one good looking tree,” Lance said, his hushed words floating on a frosty breath that hung in the air between them. “I can totally see that on Main Street. Look at how dense those branches are. And what a solid trunk!”
Holden cut his friend an ‘are-you-kidding-me?’ glare.
“Sorry.” Lance coughed. “I mean, it’s nowhere near as nice as yours.”
“The tree isn’t mine. It’s my family’s.”
“Same difference, but whatever.” Lance swiped his hands together. “What’s the next step?”
With his knees pressed in the snow, Holden inclined forward and squinted. “We’re going to army crawl over to the tree. Stay on the back side of it so if anyone is home, they won’t spot us out the window. I’ll assemble the measuring stick when we get to the tree and we’ll get a quick read on the height. Then we’ll make our way back here and regroup.”
“Aye-aye, captain.” Lance snickered with a flick of his fingers to his forehead in salute. “Hey, how about Captain? Now that’s a good name.”
“So is Holden.”
“Aw, but that’s no fun.” Jamming his hand into his pocket, Lance pulled out a fistful of red licorice. He snapped off a bite between his front teeth. “Want one?”
“I’m good.”
Truth was, Holden wasn’t sure he could keep anything in his stomach. It churned with regret over the sneaky act he hadn’t even committed yet. Some might call that a conscience, and if Holden had half a brain, he would listen to it. But they were in too deep already. He just needed to get it over with.
“On my count.” He lowered himself to the ground, belly pressed to the snow, and tucked the long pipes under his arm. “Three, two, one.”
It was an anticlimactic countdown. They didn’t set off racing, rather, they wriggled at a snail’s pace over the fresh snow. Their flattened bodies left a trail of ugly snow angels, all linked in a line that led from the shed toward the lofty noble fir.
Lance took the lead without the cumbersome poles to hinder him. Holden spat the slush that kicked up from his friend’s boots and landed in his mouth. He should’ve worn goggles. Or a ski mask. He didn’t anticipate the many inches of recent snowfall to cause such a flurry around him.
It couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes, but by the time the two men reached the tree, exhaustion racked Holden’s entire body. He was used to physical exertion in the snow, but usually the rush of adrenaline accompanied it. Apparently, dread had a different effect. It was as though even his own muscles fought him, protesting their involvement.
“That was a workout.” Lance sat up and rolled back onto his haunches. “I need another snack.” He pulled a bag of trail mix from his jacket slash snack storage and ripped into the packaging. “Want some?”
Holden took him up on it. “Sure. I’ll have a handful.”
The two sat beneath the canopy of branches, chomping on their mix of raisins and nuts like a pair of wild squirrels.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Holden fit the poles together. “Right? I mean, sneaking around their property? It’s wrong.”
“Santa does it.” Lance lifted a shoulder. “And he even goes into people’s houses. We’re not doing that. In a way, that makes us better than Santa Claus, and everyonelovesSanta Claus.”
The logic was convoluted, but gave Holden the flimsy encouragement he needed.
The last notes of “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” blended into the beginning sounds of “Silent Night” around them. It had always been one of Holden’s favorite songs, the words sung in his mother’s beautiful voice at Christmas Eve church services year after year.
But right now, nothing was calm, and Holden didn’t feel all that bright.
This was royally stupid.
“Let’s get this over and done with.” He erected the pole and hoisted himself up. Like a reed swaying in the wind, it teetered until he plunged it into the snow, meeting solid ground several feet below. He craned his neck skyward. “Can you read it? What does it say?”
Lance narrowed his eyes. “I can’t really get a good read from here. We’re too close.”
