Page 145 of Corpse Roads
“It’s beautiful.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “You ready?”
“Hell yeah.”
He walks around the car and opens my door for me, offering two large hands to help me down. I’m enveloped in the scent of his spicy aftershave as he reaches for my beanie and tugs it over my hair.
“Perfect.”
“I don’t think so,” I say shakily.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Come on, let’s do this.”
We queue with the other locals, holding hands in the swirling snow. This place is in the middle of nowhere. We set off after scarfing down breakfast, leaving before the others woke up for work.
With our entry fee paid, Hunter guides me into the first field. I stare open-mouthed at the rolling hills, scattered with different sizes of Christmas trees. Every inch of it is crammed with luscious green pine.
“Oh my God! Look at them all!”
I take off as fast as my stiff leg will allow. The bullet wound is bandaged up and healing well, but it still hurts when I walk. The doctor dropped by for another check-up yesterday.
“Harlow,” he yells after me.
I dive into the tightly packed rows of trees. I’ve never seen anything like this. Fishing out my phone, I snap a picture and send it to Leighton. This will cheer him up.
My phone buzzes with his response.
Leigh: You went without me? :(
Harlow: I’ll bring you a Christmas tree back <3
Leigh: You better. Enzo is making me go to the office. If I’m arrested for murder, please bail me out.
I’m still laughing when a red-faced Hunter manages to catch up to me, yelling his head off.
“What have I told you about running off?”
I show him my phone. “Leighton isn’t loving office life.”
Hunter rolls his eyes. “Enzo’s going to enjoy punishing him with stacks of paperwork. I caught him sneaking a red sock into Leighton’s washing the other morning.”
“What? Why?”
“He’s still pissed at him, but I’ve told him to back off. This is quiet revenge. Half of Leighton’s wardrobe is now pink.”
“No wonder he’s been in a foul mood.”
I turn to face the various sized trees. They’re all gorgeous. We walk slowly around the whole field, taking it all in as the snow continues to fall. All of the trees are taller than me.
Hunter intervenes when I can’t make up my mind and picks the most monstrous tree possible. It’s easily twice my size. I doubt it’ll fit in his car, let alone the house.
With our tree chopped, wrapped and transported by a friendly man in thermals, Hunter links his hand with mine and takes me to the onsite coffee shop.
We slip into a smaller barn that’s been converted, blasted by warmth from the roaring fire in the back corner. Panelled in dark wood and decorated with wreaths of holly, several trees are dotted about.
Their twinkling lights add to the cosy, comforting atmosphere. The scents of baked cookies, fresh coffee and pine needles wash over me in a mouth-watering cloud.
“This is awesome.”