Travis's Gift (Riley's Pride #3)- Sandra R Neeley Page 0,7

back roads onto the highway to head into town to drop Scotty off at school.

“Can’t you see the appeal to the families and the younger kids? They’d have so much fun, and they’d go home with a Christmas tree they picked out and usually helped chop down,” Scotty said.

“I can,” Travis agreed hesitantly.

“Travis, I know you still think of me as a kid, but I’m not a kid. This is my senior year. In May I’ll be done with all the school I plan to have to sit through. I’d like to help build our place into a Christmas tradition for families anywhere close enough to make the drive. We could make a lot of extra money and help build the name of the farm up again, too.”

“I know you’re not a kid anymore, Scotty. I’m just aware that Christmas isn't enough to sustain us all year long and that’s a lot of effort to put in that we haven’t had to before. The trees are looking healthy again, and honestly, I was planning to ship them to the Christmas tree lots to be distributed and move on from there. Maybe ask Riley if I could help him out on some of the construction jobs he’s got. They’re starting to take off and we could use the additional income to get us through the rest of the year.”

“I planned on asking if I could help him out, too and keep the job at the feed store as a part time gig to be able to keep the health insurance,” Scotty said. “But, we could also dedicate an acre or so of the property and plant pumpkins for Halloween and Thanksgiving. We could put a few swing sets out there and some cornhole games for the kids and the adults, too. We could come up with a lot of other options for the kids to play with while they’re here,” Scotty said.

“So, basically, you’re thinking we could be a holiday destination for the families in the area,” Travis said.

“Well, not every holiday, but from October through December we could make a nice little income that we usually only have the opportunity to make in December. It’s an untapped market,” Scotty said.

“You really want to do this?” Travis asked as they approached the high school, and Travis put on his blinker to turn onto the school grounds.

“I do. I think we could make more than you think we could. And it would be fun to do. And we’d get to interact with the families and all the kids.”

“And it would make you happy,” Travis said.

“Yes,” Scotty answered.

Travis came to a stop to allow Scotty to get out of the truck. Just before Scotty closed the door, Travis looked through the passenger side open door at him. “Alright, we’ll try it this year and see what the response is.”

“Really?!” Scotty asked excitedly.

“Really,” Travis answered. “Now go on to class, I gotta go shopping for tables and crap.”

“No, I know you need to get the fertilizing done and the last minute pruning. Just do what you need to. I’ll go the next few days and get all the odds and ends. And I’ll make some signs in computer class today. We could put them all over town in the store windows.”

“Maybe we’ll go do that together,” Travis said, offering Scotty a smile.

Scotty smiled back. It had been a long time since he’d felt like Travis was actually beginning to not mind being around him. “I’d like that.”

“Have a good day, Scotty,” Travis said.

“I will, and don’t forget they’re having meatloaf at the diner today,” Scotty said, winking at Travis.

~~~

Lucas straightened up and glanced over to the opposite side of the roof he was standing on. “I know she’s not mine. I’ve always known she’s not mine. There is no reason to remind me of it!” he snapped at Lazarus.

Lazarus looked across the roof at him. “I didn’t remind you of it. All I said was you are always pissier on the mornings Libby didn’t stay at your place, than the ones when she did stay there. You act like she’s your mate or something.”

“I’m not pissy. I’m just not a morning person,” Lucas said, mumbling under his breath about pain-in-the-ass males getting their own shit in order before they go trying to meddle in everyone else’s.

“I’ll vouch for that!” Riley said.

“Vouch for what?” Lucas asked.

“That you are most certainly not a morning person,” Riley said, tossing a pack of shingles up on the plywood