“That wasn’t to be. Like I said, I look forward to getting to know my sons-in-law well enough to feel related to them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But I don’t have to wait to feel like that with you.”
Emerson swallowed. Hell, was the General saying—
“Maybe I’m out of line, but I feel like a father to you. That’s why I call you son. I realize I don’t deserve to call you that—”
“Yes, you do.” The General had been there for him in a way no one else had—until Wyoming came along.
“I want to say how proud I am of you. The job I’ve asked you to do all these years isn’t glamorous. Hell, dealing day in, day out with a grumpy old fart like me—”
“I’ve been proud to serve with you, sir.”
“There must have been times you wanted something more exciting.”
Emerson did swerve off the road this time and parked the truck. He turned to the General. “I haven’t regretted a single day of my service with you. It’s been all I could ask for, and if I was given my choice of assignments, I’d choose the same thing—even knowing the outcome.” He pointed to his ankle. “My father was a man of integrity, and I wish he was still alive, but with him gone, there’s only one man I know who could hope to take his place in my estimation. And that’s you.”
The General kept looking out the windshield. His eyes were dry, but his jaw worked a moment before he said, “That’s a lot to live up to, son.”
“I know you’ll manage it, sir.” Emerson started the truck again and veered back onto the road, glad they’d gotten to the heart of it.
“You’ve got a lot to teach those men at the reserve center. I hope they figure that out.”
“Doubt it, sir.”
The General guffawed. “Then I guess we’ll have to shove the lesson down their throats. You keep showing up. You keep showing them the same dedication you’ve shown me, and soon enough they’ll all give you your due.”
Emerson hoped he was right.
“Did you have a good weekend?” Wye asked when Emerson and the General arrived at Two Willows. She, Cass, Lena, Jo, Sadie and Alice were all gathered by the back door, pulling on their outerwear.
Emerson nodded, kissed her on the cheek and said, “Let me get the General settled. He needs rest.” He eyed the gathering of women curiously.
“We both do,” the General said.
“We’re heading out, anyway,” Cass said. “Be back in a few hours.”
“At this time of night on a Sunday? Where are you going?”
“You’ll see,” Cass told him. “Come on, Wye.”
Wye looked back over her shoulder at Emerson and shrugged as she exited the house with the others. She didn’t know what this was all about, either. Cass had packed thermoses of hot chocolate for them and told Wye to dress up warm for a long walk.
“What are we doing?” she asked again when she, Cass, Lena, Alice, Sadie and Jo spilled out into the freezing, moonlit night.
“Hunting our Christmas tree, of course,” Lena said, picking up an ax that was propped up against the back porch.
“Hunting?”
“That’s right,” Sadie said. She tilted back her head and howled at the moon. Jo and Lena joined in.
Wye laughed. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t do this the normal way?”
“Because you know us too well,” Cass said comfortably. “Okay, newbie—which way should we go?”
“What do you mean?”
“The Reed Christmas tree hunt is done entirely on instinct,” Sadie said in a mock-professorial voice. “Shut your eyes and let your intuition guide you. Where is the tree of our dreams?”
“Go on, shut your eyes,” Cass said.
When Wye did, Cass spun her around until she was dizzy.
“Point,” Sadie directed her.
Wye pointed. The other women’s laughter had her opening her eyes.
“You’re not cutting down any part of the hedge maze, so get that right out of your mind,” Sadie said, shaking a finger at her.
“There’s forest behind it if you go far enough,” Cass pointed out. “Let’s go!”
They trooped off, singing a Christmas carol, Wye carried along by their good cheer. When they reached the woods, it was Cass’s turn to be spun and point. She did, and her finger led the way deeper into the pines. Soon they were tromping through a heavily scented grove until it was Lena’s turn. With every twist and turn, their singing grew more ragged, until Lena began to create new lyrics for the old songs. Lyrics that would have turned her husband’s ears bright red if he could have heard them, Wye suspected.
“That way,” Jo said when she’d been spun around some time later. Wye’s fingers and toes were beginning to lose feeling, but the hot chocolate in her insulated mug was still delicious and her voice was raw from singing and howling along with the other women.
“How do we know when to stop?” she asked. Jo was the last of them; they must be near the quarry, she figured.
“When the tree presents itself,” Jo said.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Cass giggled. “You’ll see.” She linked arms with Wye, which made it difficult to make much progress in the woods. Luckily they didn’t have far to go.
“Oh,” Wye said, stopping in her tracks a few hundred yards later.
“There it is,” Alice said softly.
It was perfect. Far too perfect to be a wild tree, Wye thought. “You all knew exactly where you were going!” she accused them. Someone had tended this tree through the years. Nothing in nature grew so symmetrically.
Lena shook her head. “We had no idea where we were going. We got spun just like you did.”
“But these are your woods; you know them.”
“That’s true, but we don’t go marking where the Christmas trees are. It wouldn’t be any fun that way,” Sadie said.
“It’s been trimmed.”
The other women laughed. “You got us there,” Cass said. “But we’re not the ones who do it. Jed Henderson does. He has since we were children. He has a
