The Lumberjack's Yuletide Bride: Country Brides & Cowboy Boots (A Cobble Creek Romance)

by Kimberly Krey

  Maddie had the habit of replaying some of her favorite moments with Bear. He might be big and manly and have the strength of an actual bear like his name suggested, but he knew how to hold her softly, kiss her gently, and make her feel more desired than an unmarried woman had right to feel.

  A dose of heat flushed her cheeks at the thought. He hadn’t tried to take things further, which meant he was a gentleman. She loved that.

  Sure, they’d been dating less than a month, but Maddie had finally found a man she liked to be with. Loved to be with. And she was certain he felt the same way; Bear wasn’t the lying, cheating type. Not that she needed the extra affirmation, since she’d already concluded as much earlier. Right?

  Still, as the other teachers trickled in and out of the faculty room, talking about what they had planned for the weekend, Maddie couldn’t help but question things. Her dad’s business trips hadn’t been all that innocent over the years. What if there was something going on here as well? What if the “business trip” Bear had planned had something to do with Kristen?

  Chapter 14

  “I don’t think you’re hearing me, Bear …” Kristen’s voice continued to pour from the receiver, but she was the one who refused to listen. How many times had he told her he was done traveling? Bear was half-owner of the company, for crying out loud. He wouldn’t be pushed around any longer, no matter the potential cost.

  Yet the mere idea that there could be a cost tampered with the fear he’d snuffed out weeks ago. A fear that—like any dangerous explosive—could do a whole lot of damage if he let it.

  He wouldn’t let it. Bear brought the receiver back to his ear and sighed. “Kristen …”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you read my proposal at all? The campaign I mapped out will cover more ground in a fraction of the time.”

  The recliner caught his eye; perhaps sitting in it would force him to calm down. He stopped pacing, made his way to the chair, and moved to sink into the comfortable seat. He was about there when Max leapt from the floor, and settled into the spot.

  “Max,” he hissed.

  The lab shifted from paw to paw, eyes fixed on his master. If this was Max’s way of reminding him they were about to go for a walk, the dog needed a lesson on manners.

  Bear broke into a pace again. “Listen, which one makes more sense? Your idea where I’d have to be at every forest awareness appearance across the nation, or mine, where we’d arrange a convention, further educate our managers and investors, and let them appear at local venues on the company’s behalf.”

  “At a pretty price tag,” Kristen said.

  “We can afford it,” he assured. “The convention will boost morale, give our managers a brief getaway, and save me from having to be everywhere at once.”

  “You’re the face of the company, Bear.”

  He tipped his head back and groaned. “Yes, and I will still attend the occasional event. But I refuse to fly all over the country trying to do it myself.”

  “It’s not all by yourself,” Kristen said. “I’ll be at them too. And I was thinking that maybe we could share a room. Or even a bed …” She let seduction trace the last few words of her invitation. One he wasn’t interested in.

  “Kristen, I’m not …” Bear glanced at the overnight bag by the door before checking the clock. “How about we discuss this when I come in?”

  There was a long pause, and Max let out a whimper.

  “I’m, um, actually not going to be able to meet tonight,” Kristen said. “I’m out of town. So don’t bother flying in.”

  Angry heat pounded in Bear’s chest. He shook his head, the weight of disgust and discouragement combined. “We’ve had this scheduled for weeks. I already booked the flight.”

  “Who cares?” she snapped. “We can afford it, remember? It’s a write-off.”

  That was Kristen’s favorite go-to. “A write-off, huh? Just like your nights in the club. Are those write-offs too?” That’s right, Kristen. I saw your posts. Everyone did.

  Not that he cared much. Bear was more interested in making a statement: Kristen couldn’t pretend she’d been pining after Bear this whole time.

  Another quiet moment passed.

  “I schmooze, Bear. That’s my job. Get used to it. Besides, it sounds like someone is jealous,” she accused.

  “I’m not. We just have vastly different ideas of what qualifies for a business meeting.”

  “So you’re saying you’re not at all jealous?” Kristen’s voice had gone pouty.

  She was fishing. Looking for something that Bear wasn’t willing to give. A declaration of his devotion for her. An undying love, perhaps. That wasn’t going to happen.

  The anger inside him grew hot and reckless. Forget about having the conversation in person. If Kristen wanted to lash out, who cared? Grace was right; there was nothing she could take away from him. No damage she could do that couldn’t be rectified.

  “That’s one of the things I was hoping to talk to you about,” he said. “I wanted to let you know that I’m dating someone here.”

  There. He’d done it.

  Bear let the statement linger in the quiet buzz of dead air.

  “Hmm. You wanted to let me know, why? So that I knew you weren’t interested in me?”

  He nodded. “If that’s how you want to put it, yes.”

  “Well, that’s rich.” Kristen let out a shrill laugh. “Big Daddy’s lumberjack is too good for me.”

  “That’s not what I said.” With a few long strides, he moved to sit on the love seat.

  “This is probably why you’re all up in knots about rescheduling. Did you actually think we needed to have this conversation in person?”

  “Yes.”

  The laugh came again.

  He cleared his throat. “My mistake. Listen, I figured this wouldn’t bother you, but I still wanted to have it out in the open.”

  “Yeah,” she cooed. “Move right on, Bear the lumberjack. Do you see her as often as you saw me?”

  “I see her every day. Except today, thanks to you.”

  “Hmm …” Kristen seemed to like that. “I just hope whoever she is doesn’t want to step outside of your dinky little hometown. I’ve been trying to get you out of there for years now. Turns out you’re a hopeless cause.”

  “Goodbye, Kristen.” And with that, Bear hung up the phone. His heart felt like it was beating on the outside of his chest, but the feeling was invigorating.

  The dreaded call would come now. James Grandy up in arms about something his daughter had said. Bear hadn’t feared Kristen for no reason; the woman was sneaky, and she wasn’t above concocting stories to throw someone under the bus. The beautiful thing was, Bear no longer cared.

  “Do your worst, Kristen. I can dish it right back.” The difference was, what Bear had to offer was true. A thought came to mind then. Maybe Bear didn’t need to wait around and see what kind of damage she’d cause. Perhaps he should fill James in on things right now.

  That was it. He’d reply to Kristen’s ridiculous proposal, with his original proposal attached, and copy James in on it. Who cared if he didn’t want to be bothered with this end of things? The man needed to know what his daughter was trying to pull.

  He made his way down the hall and into his office while Max bounced and panted at his heels. “Where’s your bone, boy?” The anxious dog would have to wait a little longer for his walk. For now, Bear had work to do. And for the first time in a long time, his ideas might actually be heard.

  Chapter 15

  Maddie couldn’t imagine a more perfect winter day for being out in the woods. Wyoming’s winters often had a real bite to them, but today the sun was high, the sky was blue, and the view was endless.

  She’d never been on a snowmobile before; she’d been missing out. Already Maddie had seen a vast spread of the forest floor today. Bear had explained the process a bit more, showing which part happened in each area. What she hadn’t expected was that he’d let her help ope
rate one of his favorite pieces of equipment, a machine he called a forest harvester.

  The cab was spacious enough for one, seeing that it had room for tools, lunchboxes, and that type of thing. But as for the seating, she had nowhere to sit but on his lap. She did so by sitting sideways, with one arm hooked around his neck.

  “Okay,” Bear mumbled, “see how we’ve got a good hold on the tree now?”

  “Yes,” she said, eyes on the sight beyond the cab. The mechanical claw held a freshly cut tree off the ground.

  “Okay, now we’ll turn it sideways like this. You can help me. Just put your hand over mine.”

  Maddie rested her gloved hand over his, but she couldn’t take her gaze off the sight. With a tight grip on the freshly cut trunk, the contraption rotated until the tree went from vertical to horizontal. It reminded her of the way her first-graders held their pencils by the eraser while twiddling it with no effort at all.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “How is it holding it like that when all the weight’s on one side?

  Bear shook his head. “Awesome, huh?”

  “Very.”

  “Now watch this.”

  Maddie released his hand as he reached for some other lever, her gaze on the suspended tree. Suddenly there was a cracking sound. Actually, a bunch of cracking sounds as part of the trunk appeared on the other side of the claw. And what was this? The expelled portion was now branch free.

  “What just happened?”

  He chuckled. “It’s clearing off all the branches. See that pile right there?”

  “Yeah,” she said, glancing at the ground.

  “It does about four or five feet at a time. Watch again.”

  The crackling sound came once more. A pile of twigs hit the ground, and the log on the other end doubled in length. Maddie shifted her eyes from the debris and back to the action, amazed that one machine could do so much.

  “When we want it to, this will even cut the log into sizes fitting the flatbed we use for transporting.”

  “Wow, so is this all you guys use now?” she asked.

  “No, it’s just one of the methods we use. Depends on the situation. I still get out there and do things the old-fashioned way too.”

  Maddie leaned into him and sighed. “I love seeing all this. Thanks for bringing me out here.”

  Bear lifted his chin, those brown eyes set on her. “I’m glad you came with me.” He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Let’s get going. I’ve got a lot more to show you.”

  Soon they were back on the snowmobile, where she snuggled against him, enjoying the way the sun danced like crystals on the snow.

  He steered them toward a steep hillside, the area covered in a deep layer of white. Bear Schaefer had always been larger than life. But out here in his element, he was something else. Watching him in his second home, meeting the guys that worked for him, all of it added new dimensions to the already deeply fascinating man Maddie was falling in love with.

  At the top of the sunny hillside, a stretch of flatland appeared. They sped past rows and rows of small, neatly planted pines. As they continued, each grew in size.

  “What is this?” she hollered, wondering if her guess was correct.

  “A Christmas tree lot,” Bear said as he slowed. It became more evident as the trees grew even larger. He came to a stop and shut off the engine. “Ethan’s brother married into the business. His wife’s family has run it for years.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” Bear tore off his gloves and tossed them onto the seat before walking toward an area marked off with red rope. “And for these fellas right here, it’s harvest time. I brought you here so that you could have your pick.”

  “Oh my gosh. I would love that! Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “They said you could have any one you’d like.”

  Maddie tilted her head, fighting back the pang of guilt that surfaced over the idea of cutting a live tree for Christmas.

  “These trees have been planted specifically for this reason,” Bear said. “For each tree that’s harvested, another tree is planted. And on it goes.” He motioned to the near-endless rows behind him. “If you’re going to have a live Christmas tree in your home, this is the way to do it.”

  She grinned, realizing that Bear had probably heard every timber-type objection there was. “Well, then, let’s go find the right one.”

  Christmas music always brought happiness to Maddie’s heart. There was nothing like decorating the tree while her favorites, new and old alike, blasted throughout the house. But decorating with Bear Schaefer—why, that just felt like a dream.

  “There,” Bear said, grunting as he came to a stand. “Now the base is solid, keep it watered, and you should be good through Christmas.”

  Centered before her wide front room window, the tree they’d picked looked gorgeous already. “I love it. So now we can decorate?”

  He nodded. “Now we can decorate.”

  “Perfect.” Maddie scurried down the hall, singing along to a version of “Jingle Bells.” She dug into her closet, grabbed out her Christmas bin, and shoved the door closed with her foot. A few steps further and she heard Bear speak up.

  “Want me to carry that for you?”

  “No thanks,” she said, making her way to the couch. “I’ve got it.” She cracked the lid off the large tote and smiled at the sight. She’d built an impressive collection over the last few years. Many of her favorites she’d purchased at the fall festival, and each bore witness to the talent of Cobble Creek artisans. Frank and Signs had designed the most charming little snowmen ornaments made of antique-looking pillows with old buttons and copper wire. Another set she’d purchased at the Country Quilt Inn’s gift shop. Small frames held a stretch of fabric, each displaying a hand-stitched scripture declaring the Christ child’s birth.

  She handed a small box to Bear, feeling like she was sharing an extra layer of herself, and grinned. “I love that you’re doing this with me,” she admitted.

  “Me too,” he said, holding her gaze.

  This meant something. Maddie knew it. She’d never experienced feelings so deep. Emotions so open. And love so … rapid in growth.

  “So you were going to tell me about your Thanksgiving situation,” he said. “What happened with your sister hosting and you coming to my place?”

  Her shoulders dropped. “Ugh, it’s been a mess. I liked that plan a lot better, but it’ll be at my place this year. My mom says that April doesn’t want to host because she’s getting her kitchen redone. And while I think that could be true, I also think my mom could have something to do with the switch because she didn’t want me to feel left out and I hadn’t exactly gotten an invite yet. She told my mom she was getting around to it, but who knows?”

  Bear shook his head. “That’s odd. Your sister and you just don’t get along or what?”

  “We don’t not get along. I mean, I guess you could say it’s like this: Since April’s younger than me, all of her teenage years were influenced by my mom’s new, bitter outlook on life. My mom turned into a real man-hater, and April did too. Which is why she never plans to marry.”

  “Hmm. Guess it’s lucky for me that you’re not a man-hater.”

  “Lucky for me too.” She gave him a playful wink, but found herself musing on the situation further. “We’ve never argued a whole lot, but we don’t mesh very well either. She and my mom, on the other hand, are two peas in a man-less pod. And that’s how they like it.”

  Bear seemed to consider that. “Brenda and I have always gotten along pretty well. And having her here again, being able to hang out with my nephew, it’s nice. Makes me realize how much I was missing out while they were gone.”

  Maddie grinned. “You have a great family.” She pulled out a stream of lights and nodded toward the box she’d handed Bear. “I forgot we have to put the lights on first,” she said.

  Bear reached into the box and pulled out an extension cord, and soon they were
working together like they’d done it a hundred times. Once they were down to their last box of ornaments, the two sharing Christmas memories from their past, Bear lifted a handcrafted piece Maddie had made when she was young.

  “Whoa,” he said. “We made these in Ms. Crowther’s class.”

  She nodded. “Yep.”

  “Look how cute you are.”

  Maddie laughed. The ornament displayed her first-grade yearbook photo. A row of green spiral noodles created a wreath around the central picture, while red-hot candies acted as holly berries. Of course, a few of the noodles had fallen off, and only one of the red-hots remained.

  “My mom still has mine,” Bear said. “She puts it up every year.”

  “Of course,” she said. “When I have a kid who makes one of these, I’ll do the same thing.” The comment shone an inadvertent spotlight on a sore area in Maddie’s life. Was Bear wondering why her mother didn’t keep hers?

  “My mom doesn’t put homemade ornaments on her tree. She’s really picky about it.” She shrugged, her face warming as she felt Bear’s gaze on her. Deep down Maddie knew the woman loved her, but more often than not, her mother’s affections were lukewarm at best.

  He looked down at the other ornaments filling the box. “Are these from your class?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Sometimes I’ll have a student make an extra one for me.”

  He pulled one out of the bunch. “Looks like someone drew a picture of themselves in the center.”

  Maddie chuckled. “Yes. He wanted me to have a picture of him, but we only print out one for them to make the craft. See, the other kids usually just fill in the center with noodles or red-hots.”

  “That’s sweet,” he said with a laugh.

  “It’s funny, but for all the love I’ve lost from my parents over the years, I’ve gained it back from my students.”

  Bear’s eyes narrowed, the look of concentration on his face. She hadn’t told him a lot of details regarding her mom, only that they weren’t close. She’d revealed more than that with her last comment. Mainly, that she didn’t feel a whole lot of love from either of her parents.