A christmas story

~ Chapter 1~

Ivy Prescott had been in the car for the last twenty minutes, staring at the familiar sign that welcomed her back to Harper’s Christmas Tree Farm. The large, wooden board, painted with pine-green letters and decorated with twinkling fairy lights, looked exactly the same as it had five years ago. Her heart twisted as she pulled up the gravel drive, memories surfacing of high school winters spent here. But Ivy forced herself to take a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. She was here on business, not a trip down memory lane.

Her sleek black sedan seemed out of place next to the rustic, snow-dusted barns and the rows of evergreens that stretched out like waves over the rolling hills. As she stepped out, the cold, crisp winter air hit her face. She pulled her coat tighter, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach. It had been five years since she had left Evergreen Falls, five years since she had walked away from Luke Harper and the simple life she’d known.

Now, standing there with a leather folder in hand, she was determined to close this deal and prove to her boss that she could handle more than just the city accounts. There was no turning back. Ivy made her way toward the main barn, where a plume of chimney smoke drifted lazily into the blue sky, disappearing in the early winter light.

Luke was there, unloading a truck bed full of freshly cut trees. He didn’t notice her at first, his back turned, a flannel-lined jacket and wool cap hiding the lean muscles that had once been so familiar to her. Ivy stopped a few feet away, her polished black boots sinking slightly into the snow. She hesitated, then cleared her throat.

"Luke," she called, the name heavy on her tongue. He turned sharply, surprise flashing across his face before it hardened into a wary, guarded expression. For a moment, neither of them spoke, both of them frozen into a cold silence.

“What are you doing here, Ivy?” His voice was flat, colder than the December air, his eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his hat. He wiped his gloved hands on his jeans and crossed his arms, the motion almost defensive.

"I'm here on business," Ivy said, struggling to keep her tone professional. She opened the folder and pulled out a crisp sheet of paper. "I have a proposal from Northwood Enterprises."

His jaw tightened, and Ivy could see the storm gathering behind his dark eyes, the same eyes she had once loved for their warmth and kindness.

"I’m not interested," he said abruptly, turning away from her as if that was the end of the conversation.

"Wait," Ivy said quickly, stepping forward. "Just hear me out, okay? They want to buy the farm, and they’re offering a good deal, Luke. A *really* good deal."

"Did you think I’d just sell off my family's legacy because you showed up with a piece of paper and a fancy title?" His words were clipped, each one like a cold slap. He continued unloading the trees, not even sparing her a glance.

"It’s not like that," she protested, frustration rising. She moved closer, placing herself between him and the truck, forcing him to stop. "You’re struggling, Luke. Everyone in town knows it. They’ve seen how hard it’s been for you to keep this place running since your parents died. This offer could change everything for you."

His eyes snapped to hers, a flash of raw anger there. "You don’t get to come here and tell me what I need," he said, his voice low. "You don’t know what it’s been like. You left, Ivy. You left without a word, and now you’re back, expecting me to just hand over my life’s work because it suits your career?"

"I didn’t have a choice!" Ivy snapped, her own anger flaring. "I had to leave. I—"

"You always have a choice," Luke cut her off. "And you made yours."

For a moment, they stood there, chest to chest, inches apart. Ivy’s breath caught as she looked up at him, seeing the hurt buried beneath his fury, the hurt she had caused. A part of her wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them, to tell him she was sorry. But she pushed that part of herself aside, locking it away.

"This isn’t about the past, Luke," she said, forcing her voice to steady. "This is about the future of this farm, your future. They want to preserve it, to make it something bigger, better. You’d still be part of it, you’d still run it, but with resources you can’t even dream of right now."

"And who says I want that?" he challenged. "Maybe I like it just the way it is."

"Do you?" Ivy shot back. "Because it doesn’t look like it’s working out all that well, does it?"

That was the breaking point. Luke’s face went pale, and for a split second, she saw the pain she’d only guessed at—the grief and the frustration that had accumulated over years of trying to keep his parents’ dream alive, of battling debt and expectations. But just as quickly, his expression shuttered, and he stepped back, his eyes hard as stone.

"Get off my property," he said, his voice quiet but unwavering.

Ivy’s mouth went dry. "Luke, just give me a chance to—"

"I said, get off my property," he repeated, his tone final. "There’s nothing you can say that would make me sell this farm. Not to you. Not to anyone. So go back to the city, Ivy. Go back to where you belong."

She stood there, stunned, for a moment too long. He turned his back on her, walked away without another word, leaving her standing in the snow. The sound of the barn door slamming shut behind him echoed through the quiet, the final punctuation to their confrontation.

Ivy’s hands were shaking as she clutched the folder to her chest, the crisp offer now crumpled in her grip. She had known this wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t expected the anger, that still lingered like a wound that had never healed. She took a deep breath, feeling the chill seep into her bones.

She wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t. This was her chance to prove herself, to show that she had moved on, that she was strong enough to handle any challenge—even if that challenge was Luke Harper.

Turning, Ivy walked back to her car, her footsteps crunching over the snow. She glanced back at the barn one last time, the weight of their past hanging heavy on her shoulders. She would come back tomorrow, and the next day if she had to. Luke wasn’t going to push her away that easily.

The battle lines had been drawn, and Ivy was ready for a fight—even if it meant confronting the past she’d tried so hard to leave behind.