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“Charming as always,” she murmured, feeling a lump of emotion as she stared back at Colin’s writing. “Okay, here goes Day One.” She peeled back the sticky tape on the window and read the note behind it. Buy a tree. Next to it was a scrawled picture of a tree with a star on top. “I guess he wants us to buy a Christmas tree.”
Luke sighed. She noticed he did that a lot in her presence. “Why the hell would he want us to buy a tree?”
“Oh, I don’t know, let me guess.” She made an exaggerated thinking gesture, tapping her chin. “I’ve got it. Maybe because most people have a Christmas tree in their house at this time of year?”
“Very funny.” He shifted on his huge feet. It had been a shock to see his giant shoes placed neatly by the door when she’d first come to live with Colin. Apparently she’d not been the only one to receive her brother’s call saying he had terminal, aggressive colon cancer. Not the only one to drop everything to come and live with him in his fancy ass condo in the upmarket New Jersey commuter town Colin had decided to call home.
A month after they had both moved in, her brother was dead.
“I meant, why would we put up a tree.” Luke’s brow scrunched in a frown. Short dark hair, sharp cheekbones, square no-nonsense jaw, a scar that bisected his left eyebrow, he had a face that nobody would say was handsome. But every woman would give a double take. “We’re hardly in the mood to celebrate.”
“Maybe that’s the point. He doesn’t want us to spend this run up to Christmas wallowing in misery, mourning his death. He wants us to celebrate his life. To try to enjoy ourselves.”
The brow with the scar, which permanently looked like it had a quirk, rose even higher. “And buying a Christmas tree will do all that, will it?”
God, she’d had enough of his dour cynicism. “I guess we’re going to find out.” She turned and gave him an overly bright smile. “Come on, grumpy pants. Let’s go and buy a tree. I know the perfect place.”
* * *
Luke had no idea what he was doing crammed into the passenger seat of Anna’s ten-year-old Toyota hatchback and heading away from civilization.
Truth was, he had no idea what he was doing with Colin’s kid sister, full stop. He didn’t really know her—there were four years between her and her brother—yet somehow he was left sharing a condo with her. With no Colin to act as a much needed buffer.
“Explain to me again why we’re driving away from all the shops?”
She flicked him one of her exasperated looks. “I told you, I know where to get a tree.”
“We could walk to a store that sells Christmas trees. Many stores.” He tried to keep the frustration from his voice, but didn’t think he was doing a very good job.
“We need a real Christmas tree, obviously.”
“Obviously.” He had no clue why it was obvious, but if he asked, she’d say something like Colin preferred them. And God, he knew she loved her brother, that her brother loved her, but it pissed him off the way she thought her knowledge of Colin was greater than his. Her love was greater. Her grief was greater. “Equally obviously, you can buy a real tree from the many retail establishments a short walk from the condo.”
“You can’t cut your own.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel and when she spoke again, her voice cracked. “Colin and I used to go to this Christmas-tree farm when he first bought his place. We’d choose his tree together. It’s kind of on a hill, and the views are amazing. Plus there’s free hot chocolate and a bonfire you can drink it round. He used to say the place was like a Christmas card. Magical.” She sniffed. “Maybe I should talk to Mom and Dad about sprinkling his ashes there.”
Luke was left with no come back. Fact was, though Colin felt like his brother, he hadn’t been. He’d never shared Christmas with him. Only all his school days from the age of ten, when he’d moved with his mum from the UK to the States. Countless days/weeks during the holidays, more nights out as adults than either of them could ever remember. And many, many adventures where they’d climb, go white water rafting, then share their fears, their dreams over a campfire.
“You’re picking up the pine needles,” he muttered.
He watched her head jerk momentarily upwards, like she was raising her eyes to the sky. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean you seem like one of those guys who enjoys saying I told you so.”
Was he? He liked to think he was pretty tolerant, yet there was something about Anna that tested his patience.
You’re a grumpy ass, she’s a sweetheart. He could picture Colin saying it, a twinkle in his calm blue eyes, a smile on his boyishly handsome face. You rub each other the wrong way.
His chest twisted. He missed the man with a pain that was almost unbearable at times. Missed the banter, missed talking to him. The only person he had left that he could talk to. And now he was gone.
As if she’d read his thoughts, Anna, who usually didn’t stop talking, remained silent for the rest of the journey.
After about an hour, she turned down a bumpy gravel track, vast fields on either side filled with rows and rows of fir trees at various stages of development. The lack of decent suspension on the Toyota caused him to bump his head on the roof as they trundled across the muddy car park. He breathed a sigh of relief when she finally turned off the engine.
“What size tree should we get?” She asked as they made their way towards the log cabin. Her arms swung in an almost childlike eagerness. That was the thing with Anna, she could be crying one minute, smiling the next. He didn’t know how to handle either emotion.
“A small one.”