Page 89 of The Forever Christmas Tree

“Can I help you?” he asked, giving her the once-over in her jeans and hoodie.

The arrogant snot! “I’m looking for Ethan Rutledge?”

“He’s out back by the grinder. Do you want me to get him?” He gave her one of those half-lidded looks of conceit, as if wondering if she wouldn’t prefer him.

Puh-leeze! “Please.”

In the meantime, something was niggling at the back of Wendy’s mind, something that Matt Holter had said at the Christmas dance. He’d suggested that she go look at the tree. He couldn’t have meant the tree that she and Ethan had planted together when they were only fifteen years old. It must have died the death of most Outer Banks Christmas trees by now.

Without thinking, she marched out the side door of the shop and to the far end of the lot. Amidst the straggly Rutledge Trees, there it stood. The Forever Christmas Tree. The one that had been destined to be the first Christmas tree that Ethan and Wendy had in their home after they were married.

Chills ran up and down Wendy’s spine as she gazed upward. It was magnificent. A testament to something important, but she wasn’t sure what. How had it managed to survive when all the others failed?

Through love, she realized. Faithful, long-lasting, forever love.

Ethan must have babied this thing, coddled it, protected it through harsh winds and storms. He must have been ridiculed, frustrated, angry at times. But he hadn’t given up.

Why had she?

She hadn’t realized that the loud grinding noise had stopped, only that Ethan was standing beside her. She couldn’t look at him, not yet.

“You’re leaving,” he guessed.

She nodded. “Emergency callback.”

“Dangerous?”

She shrugged.

“Thanks for coming to tell me that you’re leaving.” Unspoken was the word “again.”

She refused to rise to that bait. He was the one who’d betrayed her all those years ago. All she’d done was leave. Yes, without giving him a chance to fix things, if he could have. But he hadn’t the right to expect that of her. Had he?

Maybe in the final analysis, they had both been at fault.

She was still staring at the tree. “Why?” she asked. “Why did you go to the trouble of preserving the tree?”

“Ethan’s Folly, that’s what some folks called it. A fool thing to do. Maybe it’s time I cut the damn thing down.”

She turned now to look at him. “Don’t you dare!” she said with such ferocity that he blinked with surprise. “If you cut down my tree, I will come back and haunt you.”

He smiled then, a sad smile, probably because she’d referred to it as her tree. “You already haunt me, Wendy.”

Just then, her phone rang. Checking the screen, she saw that it was a text message from JAM:

Hey, Flip! Where R U? Car packed. Ready to leave.

“I have to go,” she said with a sigh. Then, on impulse, she grabbed his face with both hands, tugging him downward, and kissed him, hard. Over her shoulder as she walked away, then ran off, she said, “This isn’t over.”

“What does that mean?” he yelled after her.

“I have no idea. Just . . . just take care of my damn tree.”

Chapter 21

The first step is the hardest . . .

The last time Wendy left, Ethan had gone around like a zombie. Now, he was more like a robot. For the past two months, ever since Christmas, so much had happened. Zap, zap, zap. There had been nothing he could do, except hang on and do what had to be done.