A christmas story

~ Chapter 2 ~

The next morning, Ivy was back at Christmas Tree Farm. She had barely slept, tossing and turning in the bed of Evergreen Falls only inn, replaying yesterday's argument with Luke over and over in her head. She had pushed too hard-she knew that. But she wasn't about to let one explosive confrontation stop her. If there was one thing Ivy knew, it was how to handle tough negotiations. She just needed a new strategy.

She parked her car by the barn again. Everything was still, the early morning quiet only interrupted by the occasional chirp of a bird or the soft rustling of the trees. She hesitated for a moment, then set her jaw and stepped out of the car. This time, she wasn't just here for a business meeting; she was here to stay.

Luke was already working, of course. Ivy found him in the main field, dragging a tarp piled with cut branches toward a bonfire at the edge of the property. His breath clouded in the frigid air, his face flushed with exertion. He glanced up, and the surprise on his face was clear when he saw her again, standing at the edge of the field, bundled in a long wool coat and bright red scarf.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone wary, as if half-expecting another argument. He straightened, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand.

"I realized that if I'm going to convince you to sell, I need to understand what I'm asking you to give up. So, I'm staying. And I'm helping."

A flicker of confusion, disbelief-crossed Luke's face. He crossed his arms, skeptical. "You? Helping? In those boots?" He gestured pointedly at her sleek, heeled ankle boots, which were entirely impractical for trudging through snow and mud.

"Fine," Ivy said, flushing. She marched back to her car, returning a few minutes later in a pair of sturdy, scuffed hiking boots she'd bought in town that morning. "Better?"

"That depends," Luke said slowly, still watching her like she might disappear at any moment. "What exactly are you planning to do?"

"Whatever you need," she said, holding his gaze. "I'll help around the farm, get to know the business, and see what makes this place so important to you. And in the meantime, we can keep talking about the deal."

"I don't remember inviting you to stay," he said, frowning.

"Well, you didn't," Ivy said with a small, challenging smile. "But I'm here anyway. If you want me gone, you'll have to drag me off this farm yourself."

For a long, tense moment, they stared each other down, and Ivy's heart pounded in her chest. She half-expected him to order her off the property again. Instead, Luke shook his head, a low, incredulous laugh escaping his lips.

"Fine," he said at last. "You want to play farmer, be my guest. But don't think for a second that this changes anything."

Ivy nodded, a small thrill of triumph running through her. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

The days that followed were a blur of cold mornings and hard work. Ivy woke at dawn, trading her office attire for flannel shirts and worn jeans she found at a local thrift shop. She learned how to tie Christmas trees onto car roofs, fed the chickens that scratched around in the snow-dusted yard, and even got roped into manning the small farm stand that sold hot cocoa and homemade ornaments to visiting families.

It was exhausting, and her muscles ached in ways they never had before. But there was something oddly satisfying about the simplicity of it all-about falling into bed each night with the sweet scent of pine still clinging to her clothes, about laughing with the customers who came from all over to pick the perfect tree for their homes.

And then there was Luke. He was still wary, still guarded, but as the days went on, he softened slightly. They barely talked about the deal-Luke shut down every time she brought it up-but they found other things to talk about, other moments that slipped in between the work.

One afternoon, they were in the barn, repairing a broken display of wooden reindeer Luke's father had made years ago. The light streamed in through the windows, and Ivy's breath misted in the chilly air. She watched as Luke worked, his hands steady and sure, his focus intent on the pieces of wood in front of him. He caught her staring and paused, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Nothing," she said quickly, looking away. "I was just...thinking about how different this all is from the city."

"Good different or bad different?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

"Good," Ivy admitted after a moment. "I'd forgotten how...real it all feels. Out here, everything is slower, and the air just smells like-" she gestured vaguely, "Christmas."

Luke laughed then, a real, warm laugh that startled her. "Yeah," he said. "It's been like this every winter, for as long as I can remember. This farm's been in my family for generations. My parents used to say that these trees were magic, that they had a way of bringing people together."

"Did they?" Ivy asked softly.

Luke's smile faded, and he went back to fixing the reindeer. "Yeah," he said quietly. "They did."

The silence settled between them again, but it was softer now, more comfortable. Ivy took a deep breath, deciding to take a small risk.

"Luke," she said, carefully. "I get it. I understand why this place means so much to you. But if you let Evergreen Enterprises help-if you let me help-we could make this farm into something that lasts for another hundred years. Your parents' legacy would be secure. You'd have the resources to make this place everything you've ever dreamed it could be."

He didn't look at her. Instead, he finished hammering the nail into place, the sound echoing in the barn. "I don't need someone coming in and telling me how to run my family's farm," he said, his voice low but firm. "I don't need saving, Ivy. Especially not from you."

Ivy's heart sank, but she refused to give up. "I'm not trying to save you," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I'm trying to help you save this place. There's a difference."

He glanced at her then, his eyes shadowed with the weight of too many sleepless nights and too many broken dreams. For a moment, Ivy thought he might say something, might open up the smallest crack to let her in. But then he looked away, picking up another broken piece of wood.

"We'll see," he said, and Ivy knew that was the best she was going to get for now.

She nodded, turning back to her own work. They would see, indeed. Because Ivy wasn't going anywhere. She had left once, and she wouldn't leave again. This time, she would stay. Even if it meant proving herself to Luke Harper, one tree at a time.