Christmas at Yuletide Farm: A Small-Town Christmas Romance Novel

by Megan Squires

  “Can’t say he didn’t try with Jenny.”

  Like a fire alarm had been pulled, Deacon shot up from the table, his sandwich half-eaten on a plate he white-knuckled in his grip. “We gotta get going so we can finish up with the rest of today’s deliveries.”

  “Ah, your customers are fine waiting—” Joshua began to protest.

  Deacon yanked his buddy’s plate out from under his nose. It wouldn’t’ve surprised Kate at all if he hauled the man by his shirt collar into the kitchen, just to put a quick end to the conversation. In reality, all it took was one telling look and Joshua promptly retracted the foot he’d stuck in his mouth. “Yup. Gotta get on those deliveries. Thanks for lunch, Mrs. W. Nice seeing you again, Kate.” He rose from the table and took a small, gentlemanly bow before following Deacon into the adjacent room.

  Kate and Marla finished eating their sandwiches in a silence that felt stilted, but it was clear too much had already been said for one lunchtime. It wasn’t for lack of questions on Kate’s part, though. She had plenty of them when it came to Jenny. She recalled a similar reaction from Deacon when she’d commented on a rental tree bearing the same name, and again when she made a fleeting remark about the borrowed boots. It all seemed too coincidental not to be intertwined.

  One thing was clear: whoever Jenny was and whatever she meant to Deacon, it was not up for any sort of discussion.

  Something about that set off all of Kate’s investigative bells. It was like an itch she couldn’t scratch and despite her knack for digging around to discover the truth, Kate knew this was a story that would never be hers to expose.

  Deacon

  Deacon one-upped Santa by not only making a list, but checking it three times. Even with every item marked off, he still worried they had missed something. It was unlikely. Opening up the farm was an integral part of Deacon’s Christmastime routine. Like the memorized lines of a holiday carol, he ran through his tasks without giving any purposeful thought to the parts that came next. It all flowed as naturally as a song.

  Growing up, he’d heard stories of his mother cradling him in a swaddling blanket while she aided customers in the search for their perfect tree. His father and grandpa would work as a team to cut and bundle the winning selection before sending it off to its new home. Each year, Deacon would add to these memories. He was a toddler riding double atop his Dad’s saddle while they made the rounds on their evergreen acreage. A young boy learning the mechanics of a handsaw and the strength required to cut through a sturdy trunk. A teenager trying to catch the eye of a beautiful girl, showing off his strength as he lifted cut trees onto car rooftops.

  And now he was a man, trying to do right by all of the Winters men that came before him.

  Deacon hadn’t experienced a Christmas without the tree farm, and yet unjustified anxiety had a vise grip on his confidence. He still wasn’t sure if he was doing the whole endeavor justice.

  “Looks like we got ourselves a good little line forming in the parking lot.” Cody stood next to his brother, eyeing the entrance from a distance. When he spoke, his breath left him in small clouds that hung in the chilly morning air. “You all set to open the gate?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Cody breathed into cupped hands for warmth and then rubbed his palms together vigorously. “You say that every year, and yet I’m still not convinced. This farm has been in your name for five years now, Deacon. When are you going to start acting like it actually belongs to you?”

  “It’s not mine. Maybe on paper, but that soil and those trees and this legacy—it doesn’t belong to me.”

  “Of course it does because you’re a part of it, Deacon. Just like your living rental trees, there’s a living legacy here and you’re smack dab in the very center of it.”

  Deacon gave his brother a sidelong glance. “Don’t go getting nostalgic on me now. We’ve got trees to sell. I don’t have time to get all mushy.”

  “I’ll save the mushiness for a later date, then. Or I could just let Kate take care of that part.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I see the way you look at her, bro,” Cody noted with an approving nudge of his chin. “I haven’t seen you look at anyone that way since—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Fine, I won’t. But I know when some girl’s got your eye and Kate has more than that. Pretty sure she’s got your heart, too.” He jabbed a finger right into Deacon’s chest.

  “That’s crazy. I hardly even know her.”

  “Sure. But you and I both know that doesn’t really mean much. When you know, you know.”

  Taking a firm grasp on his brother’s shoulders and twisting him in an about-face, Deacon gave Cody a little forward shove. “All I know is that our farm is about to open in less than five minutes and I don’t think discussing my non-existent love life is the best use of our time right now.”

  “Roger that.” Cody saluted and jogged toward the entrance, leaving Deacon to absorb their strange conversation. He didn’t like that his growing attraction toward Kate had suddenly become public knowledge. Sure, his brother probably knew him better than anyone, but even Joshua had made a similar comment in the truck the day before. Something about a lovesick expression on Deacon’s face when Kate came into the room. He wondered how his feelings could be so transparent. Maybe it was expected for a brother and a best friend to pick up on these things. He only hoped Kate wasn’t as perceptive.

  Who was he kidding? She was paid to be perceptive.

  “What’s the countdown?”

  Deacon snapped from his thoughts only to see the very woman who had occupied them. She had on the same navy wool coat as the day before with a chunky knit scarf stuffed into the collar and bundled clear up to her chin like a turtleneck made of yarn. Her hands wore matching colorful gloves, making the set complete. Deacon figured she’d knitted them herself. He pictured her sitting cross-legged on a couch, bundles of yarn spread around her while she worked dexterously with the needles, hooking row by row together until she had enough to fashion into something wearable. Even though he’d conjured it up in his mind, it was such a heartwarming sight. But what surprised him the most was that when he envisioned her like this, she was in his living room and seated on his sofa.

  How had his imagination transported her there?

  “Deacon?”

  He blinked, snapping the vision right out of his head. “Kate.”

  “Is it opening time yet?”

  “Just about,” he replied.

  “You nervous?”

  Deacon blew out a quick breath. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Not at all.” Her mouth bent into a reassuring smile. “Plus, what would you have to be nervous about? The farm is picture perfect.”

  “There’s a lot of responsibility involved when creating a space for families to make memories. I don’t take that lightly.”

  “You know”—Kate gave him a grin that teetered on the edge of a smirk—“You’re a much more sentimental guy than I originally gave you credit.”

  “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment?”

  “I hope you do, because I meant it to be one.” She reached down and squeezed his hand, and even though hers was gloved, the skin on the back of Deacon’s neck tightened at the gesture. “I’m only planning to do a couple interviews right after we open, so once that’s finished up, I’m all yours.”

  “Oh really?” He couldn’t help but perk up at her statement which was wrought with ambiguity.

  “You know what I mean,” she said but her tone held the flirtatious timbre he’d hoped to detect in it. More often than not, their recent conversations seemed to bear that same quality. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it. “See you in a few?”

  “See you in a few.”

  In keeping with years past, the morning went off without a hitch. Like the opening of an amusement park, families squeezed through the entrance gates and then scurried off to their desired destinations
. Some set straight out for the trees in hopes of getting first dibs on this year’s selection. Others made their way to the farmstand where Deacon’s mother welcomed each guest passing through the doors with a hot cup of cocoa and a welcoming smile. Small children stopped at the holiday displays, squishing their chubby faces into the wooden cutouts while parents seized the photo-op, their phones lifted high as they called out posing instructions.

  There was an expected air of cheer that warmed even the coldest of days and Deacon made a purposeful effort to soak it all in.

  Even though he didn’t intentionally mean to, throughout the morning his gaze repeatedly landed on Kate, seeking her out in every crowd, picking up her voice in every conversation. His attention fastened to her like a magnet. And he wasn’t the only one to do that. People gravitated to her. Some recognized her from the show. When they did, they would begin by telling her which assignment had been their favorite. She would then share some little token of information that hadn’t made it into the final cut; how she’d accidentally sheared the wrong dog as a pet groomer or had a fender bender as a taxi driver.

  She knew how to make people feel special, like they were in on some little industry secret, but more importantly, she knew how to be real. She readily and openly admitted to her mistakes. There was humility there and Deacon realized this as the driving factor in her interactions. People felt comfortable around Kate because Kate was comfortable in her own skin—flaws, failures, and all.

  It was the most refreshing, beautiful revelation.

  As promised, Kate made quick work of her interviews and joined up with Deacon a little after noon. Things at Yuletide Tree Farm were in full swing with a steady stream of family-packed cars rotating in and out of the parking lot. Cody and a crew of high school boys worked tirelessly. Even though the farm allowed customers to cut their own trees, often a little assistance was necessary in that endeavor. They helped where needed and hauled trees up the hill before pushing them through the funnels that would bind the branches in a tube of red netting.

  Watching his trees leave the property strapped on vehicle rooftops was always a joyful sight. Deacon knew before the day was over that these trees would be decorated with keepsake ornaments and serve as the Christmas centerpiece of the home. It was an honor to grow and provide something so meaningful to the season.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Kate cocked her head as though she could search out Deacon’s reflective expression. They were monitoring things by the entrance, making sure there were still plenty of empty spots in the parking lot and redirecting traffic as needed.

  “Just feeling grateful,” Deacon said. “Grateful to have so many customers on our first day open. Grateful for such beautiful trees to sell.” He gave her a thoughtful look. “Grateful for the nice company.”

  “I’m grateful, too. Grateful you don’t have me out there hauling trees.” She indicated in the direction of Cody with her gaze. “That has to be the twentieth trip I’ve seen him make with a massive tree balanced on his shoulders. How’s he even going to be able to move tomorrow?”

  “Oh, don’t think you’re getting out of tree hauling,” Deacon challenged. “That’s on tomorrow’s agenda.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You wanted the full experience, didn’t you?”

  “Absolutely. Nothing short of it.”

  “Then we can’t leave out tree hauling,” Deacon explained. “Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to lug a sixty-pound tree all by yourself. I’ll be there to help. Plus, we’ve got lots of wagons and wheelbarrows on the property that we can use if we need to. It doesn’t all have to be muscle and brawn.”

  “How come Cody’s not taking advantage of those very helpful resources?”

  “Because Cody will always do things the hard way if there’s even a slight possibility it’ll make him look good. He absolutely despises running, but joined the cross country team in high school all because some cute girl told him his mile time in P.E. was really impressive. Me, I’m less about making an impression and more about making things efficient.”

  “I, for one, think it’s quite impressive how efficient your farm is, Deacon. Turns out you can have both.”

  “I appreciate that. I’d love to take the credit and say I’m the one who made it this way, but the truth of the matter is, I’m just the one keeping it this way.”

  “And you’re doing a great job.”

  Deacon valued Kate’s encouragement. She was a natural cheerleader and he hadn’t realized how much he’d needed one in his corner, especially in recent years. “Did you get what you needed for your show?”

  “I did. Lots of good footage that I plan to send to the station soon.”

  “Does that mean you’re done for the rest of the day?” His voice lifted in hope.

  “Only with one of my jobs,” she said. “You know, I am working two these days.”

  “I’m pretty sure your boss will give you the rest of the afternoon off.”

  “You think so?” she asked, a brow bent up. “But it’s opening day.”

  He gave the farm a quick once-over before his gaze circled back and landed on her. “Looks like things are under control here. They won’t miss us for a couple of hours.”

  “Just what do you have in mind, Deacon Winters?”

  “You’re about to find out.”

  Kate

  Leaving his tree operation on opening day seemed so out of character for the man sitting beside Kate. And yet there they were, loaded up in Deacon’s truck, ambling down the back roads of his sprawling Sierra acreage. Majestic evergreens as tall as skyscrapers hemmed them in at every angle. Kate knew the Winters had a sizable amount of land, but so far she’d only explored just the small section of it near the barns and the main house. This portion lacked the symmetry and planning of the planted rows which, although undeniably beautiful, were almost commercial in feeling. Here, everything was natural, untouched, and uncharted. It was a winter wonderland.

  “Almost there.” Deacon glanced across the cab before he instructed, “Hold on.”

  Kate was about to reach up to grab onto the roof handle just as the vehicle dipped forward. The truck’s shocks absorbed most of the impact as it jostled about on the slushy, uneven terrain. Kate had less luck countering her balance. She wobbled in her seat like a bowl of Jell-o.

  “You good?” Deacon’s hands gripped the steering wheel for control.

  “I didn’t know you offered rollercoaster rides on the farm.” Kate braced herself with two palms on the dash when the truck suddenly lunged into a shallow embankment. The huge snow tires partnered with four-wheel drive to help the truck climb out of the snowy dip in the earth.

  They rocked to a stop and there was a hiss from the truck when Deacon killed the engine. “We’re here.” He sat back in his seat. “You’re not motion sick, are you?”

  “I’m fine,” Kate said, unwilling to admit that her stomach contents had been protesting the entire way. She was grateful their off-roading journey had come to an end because she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t become ill if the drive continued any longer.

  “Normally I would take the horses or the snowmobiles, but with all the crowds up by the barns where they’re stowed, I figured it would be easier just to take the truck.”

  Kate smiled, already feeling the wooziness dissipate.

  “Ready?”

  “Sure am,” she replied, even though she didn’t know what she needed to be ready for.

  Deacon left the driver’s seat and in keeping with his chivalry the night he took her to dinner, he came up to Kate’s side of the vehicle to open her door and extended a hand. “I’ve got you.”

  She thought she had her footing, but as she stepped onto the running boards, her boot slipped from the slick surface and she fell straight into Deacon’s arms. Her cheek slammed against his solid chest, making him stumble back from the impact.

  “Whoa there.” His hands moved to her arms to right her. “You okay?”


  “I’m so sorry.” Kate’s mouth went dry when she looked up and saw the expression of concern cloaked on Deacon’s handsome face. Their eyes locked.

  “It’s okay,” he said, his voice quiet. Soft. “The boards tend to get icy.”

  Kate nodded so slowly she hardly felt her head moving. She hadn’t released her gaze from Deacon’s and each second their eyes remained locked caused her heart to beat faster, louder, almost to the point she could hear it thrumming like a drum line in her ears.

  Deacon snapped from their trance first. “It’s just a short walk from here.” He all but jumped back, releasing her, but then something flashed across his eyes and he asked, “Mind if I hold your hand? Only because the land out here is a little challenging to navigate.”

  “Of course,” Kate said. “I’ve proven to be kinda clumsy anyway, haven’t I?”

  “Not at all.” Deacon was quick with his answer. “I just don’t want you to fall in the snow and get all wet. It would make the ride back even more miserable.”

  Despite the nausea, Kate wouldn’t categorize their drive as miserable at all. The opposite, in fact. “Thank you, Deacon. I appreciate that.”

  Walking through the snow, hand in hand with Deacon, felt surprisingly natural. He guided her carefully, turning his head every once in a while to make sure she was following along without struggle. Luckily, the layer of snow on the ground was thin and didn’t swallow their boots whole like Kate feared it might. Instead, it turned out to be an indisputably beautiful little hike, unlike any she’d ever taken and she had a small hunch the company had a bit to do with that.

  After a brief trek, she could feel Deacon slow up his movements as his hand loosened its grip. “This is it.”

  Before them stood a tree, much like the others surrounding it. Kate had to crane her neck to take in its entirety, and even then, it required her to bend back a little to view the very peak branches. The evergreen loomed with grandeur, but Kate still wasn’t quite certain what made this tree any different than the hundreds surrounding it.