are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Beau nodded. “I do. You don’t grow up where I grew up and not learn how to safely cut down trees. Let me do one to show you, and if you’re not satisfied I know what I’m doing, we’ll leave it at that.”
Annie could see Mr. Johnstone was tempted – and finally, he nodded his head. “All right, it’s a deal. Let’s go.”
Mr. Johnstone fetched the ax and a small rolling trolley, and they followed him outside to where the rows and rows of green Christmas trees stood, sprinkled with flakes of snow. Annie shivered even in her winter coat, but Beau, in his short sleeves, didn’t seem fazed by the cold – in fact, it was as if he didn’t feel it at all, she thought, marveling as he walked beside her.
“We got an order of ten medium-sized trees for some mall that wants to do a caroling concert the day after tomorrow, and decided at the last minute their stage didn’t look spectacular enough,” Mr. Johnstone explained as he led them to some older, larger trees. “You reckon you can cut down ten trees? That’d be a tall order even for my Jimmy, and he’s been working here all his life.”
“It’ll be no problem,” Beau said, but he didn’t sound like he was boasting – it was just a quiet confidence that he knew what he was doing.
“Well, let’s see how you go then,” Mr. Johnstone said, handing him the ax.
Annie didn’t know the first thing about felling trees, but she could admire the flex of Beau’s muscles as he swung the ax, firmly and competently, the razor-sharp head burying itself in the wood of the tree trunk.
Beau cut a wedge out of one side of the trunk, before moving around the tree to hack at it from the other side.
Annie glanced at Mr. Johnstone, and though he said nothing, she could see from the look in his eyes that he was impressed. Beau’s swings were neat and precise, and by the looks of things he wasn’t using his whole strength – he was focusing on accuracy and safety, not showing off his burly muscles.
Though the muscles are a nice bonus, Annie thought dizzily as she stared at Beau’s back as the material of his t-shirt tightened across it, outlining said muscles to perfection. She swallowed, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop staring. But who, really, could blame me? Not me!
In no time at all the tree was on its side, safe and sound.
“Nicely done,” Mr. Johnstone said appreciatively. “I think I can safely say you know what you’re doing.”
Beau nodded, smiling. “Thanks. Want me to load it onto the trolley?”
“Well, that would be helpful,” Mr. Johnstone said, laughing. “But only if you won’t strain yourself doing it.”
Mr. Johnstone laughed again, evidently pleased with his joke, as Beau grinned and lifted up the tree as if it weighed nothing, hauling it over to the trolley.
Mr. Johnstone grabbed the trolley handles and lifted them, preparing to take the tree back to the shopfront.
“You sure you don’t need me to do that?” Beau asked, but Mr. Johnstone just shook his head.
“I may not be able to swing an ax anymore, but I can still manage this,” he said mildly. He began wheeling the tree away – but as he passed Annie, he paused and said, “You got a good one there, Miss Shaw – you should hold onto him, wherever he came from.”
Annie immediately felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair. “Oh, no – we’re not – I mean, he’s not – I –”
Mr. Johnstone raised an eyebrow, giving her a knowing look. “Well then, if you’re not, you should at least consider it. Good men don’t grow on trees, you know.”
Before Annie could even begin to think of what to say to that, Mr. Johnstone had set off with the tree and the trolley, leaving her standing there staring after him.
Before she could stop herself, Annie had glanced back at Beau, who was sizing up the next tree in the row. There was no way to tell if he’d overheard what Mr. Johnstone had said, but if he had, he wasn’t giving anything away.
Annie couldn’t tear her eyes away from his profile. She couldn’t recall being so attracted to a man ever before in her life. She couldn’t recall ever… wanting anyone, the way she wanted Beau.
Three days, she reminded herself harshly. You’ve got three days to live in