Recognition in her world didn’t necessarily come from schooling though. Maisie was still deciding whether or not she wanted to throw her name into the ring at a small Seattle gallery that had put out an open call to artists.One thing at a time.Pushing herself to be brave by applying to the university had unleashed her desire to prove to her parents that education wasn’t the only path to success. But she didn’t want to do something just for that reason. She loved her work. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the kind of vulnerability that showcased her work to a large, opinionated audience.
Her thoughts scattered like brilliant fireworks when she saw the sign for Tickle Tree Farms. Giddiness invaded her body and she couldn’t stop herself from doing a little bounce in her driver’s seat. The long gravel driveway was lined on both sides with a wooden fence wrapped in strands of the big-bulbed lights Maisie loved. The rainbow of colors danced softly in the late afternoon light. Tall, thick trees dotted the fence lines and were also decorated with lights, but these ones were smaller and white. It was magical and she couldn’t wait to see it in the dark.
At the end of the lane, there was the cutest Alice in Wonderland–type sign pointing to the different areas of the massive grounds. She stopped the Jeep and snapped a photo with her phone to send to Lexi. In cute, curly lettering, an arrow pointing up read: NORTHPOLE. An arrow to the right, printed in a different cutesy font, said U-CHOPand below that, another arrow to the right said PRE-CUT. Two arrows pointed to the left; one read BARNand the other read MAINHOUSE.
Maisie put her phone down and took a left. A gorgeous two-story, pale-green farmhouse with a wraparound porch and dormer windows came into view. As if that wasn’t picture-perfect enough, there was a little boy dressed in winter gear, running back and forth over a short stretch of the front yard. She was already smiling when she put the Jeep in park and got out with just her shoulder bag, but when she saw what the little guy was doing, she laughed.
He bent, made a snowball, threw it, then ran forward to where it landed, made another snowball, and threw it back. He saw her and gave her a big grin and a wave.
“I’m having a snowball fight with myself,” he said, huffing with his exertion, his boots dragging more than lifting.
“Who’s winning?” Maisie asked as the bright-yellow front door to the house opened.
A tall woman with long, flowing blond waves spilling out of her knit cap, holding a travel mug and wearing a long plaid jacket and an enviable pair of black boots, waved at Maisie.
“You’re Maisie! Colton’s been texting me pictures of everyone,” she said, coming down the few steps off the porch. “I’m Ellie.”
“I am. I’m so happy to meet you and to be spending the holidays here. I love it already.”
Excitement bubbled up with the other woman’s happy greeting. Even more when she leaned in for a hug. “Sorry, I feel like I already know you.” Ellie stepped back from the hug, looked over at her son. “Asher, come meet Uncle Colt’s sister-in-law.”
The little boy, who looked about four or five, came over with one snowball in hand. Tipping his head back, Maisie saw that he had eyes the same color as his mom’s, which, for some reason, felt familiar. Maybe the warmth in them. His hair was light brown and sticking to his forehead. Ellie swiped a hand across it with a laugh.
“Are you a police officer?” Asher asked.
Maisie laughed. “No, why?”
“You’re in law.” Asher shrugged as if that explained it all.
Both Ellie and Maisie laughed but Ellie crouched down. “No, sweet pea. ‘In law’ means that Uncle Colt is married to Maisie’s brother, Jacob. We’ve talked to him on FaceTime.”
Asher nodded, looked back at Maisie. “My mom’s not married to my dad anymore.”
Ellie groaned and stood up, giving Maisie a sheepish grin. “Don’t tell him any secrets if you don’t want everyone to know.”
Maisie bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“Want to have a snowball fight?” Asher asked both women.
“I think our guest might like to get settled, mister. Which means we should help her with her bags, don’t you think?”
It tugged at Maisie’s heartstrings when his little smile slipped. She gestured to her Jeep. “I can handle my bags but maybe you could carry the Christmas cookies I brought?”
Just like that, his eyes widened, the grin returned, and he went running to the Jeep.
Ellie nodded, brows raised. “Well done. Excellent diversion. Do you work with kids?”
They walked toward her vehicle. “I’m a photographer. So sometimes. Speaking of, this place is breathtakingly gorgeous. I’m definitely going to have to take some shots.”
While Asher took the cookies inside, promising not to have one until they were all inside and settled, Maisie unloaded the back of her Jeep, taking her small suitcase and camera bag. Ellie carried the closed box of presents Maisie still needed to wrap.
“I bought this place in the spring. This is my first official season of tree selling. I’d love to get some updated photos for the website,” Ellie said as they made their way up the steps. She stopped at the open door. “I’d pay you, of course.”
Those tingles worked their way along her skin. “No way. The chance to photograph this place? You, your adorable kid, and all the Christmas goodness? Consider it a gift and a thank-you for letting us stay.”
Maisie heard Ellie’s protests but her attention immediately shifted as they stepped into the high-ceilinged entryway. The scent of fresh pine welcomed them into the house. A tree not much taller than Maisie was decorated with what looked like homemade ornaments.
The mat she wiped her feet on read:Santa stop here. Maisie shook her head, met her host’s gaze. “Stop saying you’ll pay. You’re letting me and my whole family stay. I’m taking photos. I can’t wait.”
