The Lumberjack's Yuletide Bride Read online

  The Lumberjack’s Yuletide Bride

  Kimberly Krey

  Copyright © 2017 by Kimberly Krey

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Untitled

  Also by Kimberly Krey

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Welcome to Country Brides & Cowboy Boots, a series full of everything country, from horses and rodeo to small towns and business owners. There a little something for every reader in this series and we can’t wait for you to jump right in and get reading.

  One thing you’ll notice, is that the books stand alone. You can read them in any order (except for the Fair Catch Ranch Family Saga—but those books are labeled so you can easily find your way.) You’ll also find that they are all in the same universe—meaning what happens in one book, can be found in another. You’re going to love finding all the eggs we’ve stashed and once the whole series is out, you’ll want to read them again and again to connect the dots.

  Without further delay, please enjoy The Lumberjack’s Yuletide Bride.

  Happy reading,

  Gelato

  Chapter 1

  Bear Schaefer held his breath as bright camera bulbs flashed around him. He could hardly believe this was his last obligated photo shoot. The thought alone gave him permission to exhale.

  After an exhausting six-month stint away from home, Bear could trim his duties back down to size. While owning and operating nearly half of Big Daddy Mills was top priority, what Bear looked forward to most was the hands-on grit and grind of logging on one of Big Daddy’s prize properties in Cobble Creek, Wyoming.

  “Hike the axe up over the other shoulder,” Martin instructed, tipping his head away from the lens. “And Kristen, you come up behind and wrap your hands around his bicep.”

  “I wish you would reconsider our marketing proposal for next year,” Kristen said through smile-clenched teeth. “It’s not as much traveling as you think.”

  “Kristen, I still have to run half of the company, you know? Now that the forest bill passed, things need to get back to normal.” Being the poster boy for Big Daddy’s was a privilege, one Bear hadn’t taken for granted. But since his father’s death, he couldn’t afford to be away from home so often.

  “My dad has already signed the proposal,” Kristen hissed. “He’s going to be furious if you try to change everything now.” Her dad, AKA James Grandy, owned the other half of the company—fifty-one percent, to be exact.

  “No more talking,” Martin ordered from behind the lens. “Kristen, seriously. Give me a pouty lip, and tip your head back. More. More.”

  “We’ll discuss it at dinner tonight,” she mumbled before the blinding bulbs shot off another round.

  The photographer crouched lower to the floor and tilted the camera, allowing Bear to catch a glimpse of their reflection in the lens. Kristen looked like a pinup model donning a tiny, checkered shirt knotted just above her navel and a pair of short shorts that barely covered the essentials. The suspenders matched the pair Bear wore, displaying several miniature versions of Big Daddy’s logo, the company name in log letters, with a massive axe beneath. Kristen had been trying to work herself into the ad campaign for years now; obviously she’d worn down her father as much as she’d worn down Bear.

  He thought back on her final sentence: We’ll discuss it at dinner tonight. That was code for I’m not going to stop until I get what I want. Over the last two years, the woman had exhausted Bear into signing contracts that came with a cost: He’d get to educate people about the once-pending forest bill, and Kristen would get to book publicity events and photo shoots to her heart’s content.

  “Now let’s get a few of just Bear by himself,” Martin said.

  Kristen let out an annoyed sounding tsk. “And then some of me by myself?”

  Martin eyed the clock. “We’ll see.”

  “But my dad said—”

  “I talked to your father too, Kristen. Bear’s been the face of Big Daddy since he was sixteen. He’s the real-life lumberjack, which makes him our focus.”

  “I think you’re forgetting something,” she snapped. “There used to be two faces for Big Daddy’s. And I was one of them.”

  A day rarely went by that Kristen didn’t bring that up.

  Martin’s face scrunched. “Are you talking about the picture they used of the two of you … as babies?”

  “Yes.” She sneered. “Hence the reason we’re even doing this photo shoot. The two of us, together again.” When Martin only stared at her, Kristen pointed a finger toward him from across the studio. “I’ve owned half of this company since before I was born. So what I say matters.” It was a given—to probably all within earshot—that Kristen wouldn’t technically own that half until her father’s passing, which wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Still, if Bear had it his way, he’d step out of that studio and let Kristen pose to her heart’s content.

  Martin yawned. “You’re holding up the shoot …”

  “Fine, then.” Kristen huffed before weaving through standing tripods and winding cords.

  “Grab the log, will you?” Martin asked his assistants. “We need the chainsaw too.”

  A small crew rushed toward Bear. Some bulky teen took the axe from him, while hoisting the chainsaw up and into his grip. Meanwhile, the gal who powdered his face stepped in with the brush and began whisking it over his forehead, nose, and chin. Without warning, she went for the eyes.

  Bear barely pinched them shut in time for the bristles to brush over his lids. He couldn’t get back to Cobble Creek soon enough. Max probably wouldn’t even recognize him after being away for so long. Heck, he’d never been so homesick in his life. Hopefully Mom would make him some of her famous (in Cobble Creek, anyway) zucchini bread when he got back. Or had he missed the zucchini harvest altogether?

  He most likely had. Dang, he was homesick. Bear had plenty of office work to catch up on, but soon enough he’d spend a full, glorious day logging in his beloved forest. A smile crossed his lips as he thought back on all the years he’d spent among the trees at his father’s heels, training to be just like him. It was no wonder he felt his presence there most.

  Last year, Bear had been featured in GQ. The article, titled “Two-Collared Man,” spoke of the mystery behind the white-collar business owner who refused to give up the blue-collar labor. A shirt had been handcrafted specifically for the shoot. Sixty percent, including one collar, was a crisp, button-up white, while the other collar, along with the remaining forty percent, boasted a contrasting, oil-smudged blue. That article, his mother said with a smile, had gotten it right.

  The sound of Kristen’s voice caught Bear’s attention. �
��Halloween is right around the corner, but that’s not why I’m dressed up like this.” A quick glance in her direction told Bear that she was making one of her live videos again. Her camera phone was aimed at her face, but Bear knew she had a different target in mind.

  “See that guy with the camera behind me?” Kristen continued, loud enough for Martin (and everyone else) to hear. “Well, his name is Martin LaShea, and he just kicked me off the set of a photo shoot I arranged.”

  Typical Kristen. In her eyes, life wasn’t worth living without two specific things: drama, and people to watch her during the drama.

  Tonight at dinner, Bear would draw some relationship lines with Kristen. Lines that, until now, had been blurry at best. Over the last six months, there had been extensive flirting, occasional kissing, and no discussion of what was happening between them. Probably because neither was sure. But as the months passed, her spoiled nature becoming more and more clear, Bear realized Kristen was not the kind of woman he wanted to spend his life with.

  He’d waited until now to discuss it, mainly to avoid the kind of public lash-out she was doling out to Martin right then. But now that the bill had passed and their extended business trip was through, Bear would put things in their rightful place.

  “Earth to Bear,” Martin chimed with the snap of his bony fingers. “Take some direction, will you?”

  Bear sighed, gladly taking his gaze—and his thoughts—someplace else. “Sorry, Martin. Tell me what you want me to do. I’m listening.” Anything to get this over with.

  Chapter 2

  Maddie stapled the last colorful leaf onto her Tumble into Fall wall in her classroom and took a step back. And then another. The autumn colors went well with the red background. Better than she’d hoped. Her eyes drifted over the colorful display as she took in each piece of art, made with care by her first-graders.

  Zach always had a tough time with the scissors. This project hadn’t been easy for him, but he never gave up. His mom would be proud.

  And Callie—adorable little Callie Cat! Bless her heart. It was hard not to get caught up in the fact that the little girl had lost her mother before moving to Cobble Creek. Maddie could picture her now, flicking her long, dark curls over one shoulder, her tongue running along her bottom lip while she cut out each piece with precision. She’d been so excited about taking her crepe paper Halloween mummy home that afternoon. Said she planned to tape it right to the front door so all the trick-or-treaters could see it.

  “Knock-edy knock knock.” The odd greeting came from the equally odd guy who stood at the entrance of Maddie’s classroom.

  “Come on in, Will …iam. William.” Maddie had gone to this very school with Willy Walker. Over the years he’d gone from Willy to Will, and then settled on William once he came back with his degree and started teaching second grade. But to Maddie, he’d always be critter-loving, sweater-wearing Willy Walker.

  “Do you realize we’re the only ones left in the building?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “Besides Blitz, that is.”

  Maddie wasn’t surprised. Windows took up nearly half of the west-facing wall, and as usual this time of year, the sun had set hours ago. “Poor Blitz,” she sighed, closing the stapler and setting it back on her desk. “He’s the only one who stays later than I do.”

  William scrunched his nose—his way of hiking his glasses up his face without using his finger. “Yeah,” he said, “but Blitz doesn’t get here until lunch. You are usually the first faculty member to come and the last to leave.”

  She shrugged and stepped around her desk. “It’s no biggie. I live alone.”

  Will pulled a hand from his pocket, ran a finger over the corner of her desk. “Yeah,” he said in a wry tone. “Me too.”

  A dreaded sort of energy filled the room. That I-think-Willy’s-going-to-ask-me-out energy. It always seemed like he was leading up to it. Asking if she’d ever been fishing one day. Talking about a certain movie trailer the next. Yet instead of asking her out, he’d just nod, make an awkward joke, then walk out.

  “I heard of this, uh, new place out in Duckdale Hollow. What’s it called … Pepper Pot?”

  She smiled. “Copper Pots?”

  He did a finger gun at her. “That’s it.”

  “Yeah, Cam and Kate were talking about it in the faculty room the other day. They said it’s good.”

  “That’s good.” He nodded and tucked his hands back in his pockets. “Hey, um, there’s an assembly next week. Remember that?”

  “Yep. Tuesday.”

  Will shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “It’s my turn to monitor our classes in the auditorium. You can come back and catch up on grading.” He waved a hand toward her leaf wall. “Or decorating for the season. I should do more decorating in my room,” he mumbled.

  “Thanks for reminding me about the assembly. What’s it about this time? I haven’t checked out the newsletter yet.”

  “Oh, it’s that lumberjack everyone’s always making a big deal about.”

  “Bear Schaefer?” Maddie’s heart sped up like her first-graders on a sugar rush. “He’s coming back?”

  William surveyed her in a long blink, then looked down at his shoes. “Guess he’s been traveling all over the western United States talking about his quote unquote forest skills and how he’s helping to save trees even though he makes a living off of cutting them down. Go figure.”

  Maddie nodded, but the truth was, she’d lost track of what William said somewhere between Guess he’s and go figure. Bear Schaefer was coming back to Cobble Creek next week? Her skin came alive with the very idea. And her insides too. Her heart actually hurt. It was like when her stubborn stapler got jammed and Maddie had to pound on the thing until it expelled the culprit. That’s what was happening inside her chest, some sort of crazed hammering.

  Maddie thought that seeing Bear Schaefer in person might not be an option again, figuring that he was too big to settle down in his hometown. She’d grown up with Bear right here in Cobble Creek. And heaven help her and every other poor girl who swooned over him day after day, he was more than the full package. With his size alone, he was more like a truckload of perfect packages.

  “Maddie?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I was just thinking of how it … it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.” A year and a half, to be exact. It was at the library. He’d actually spotted her first, and asked for an opinion on a stack of books he planned to check out for his mom. They were all on the same topic—grieving. Maddie hadn’t worked there or anything; it was merely a conversation about how his father had passed away, and how his widow mother—a year later—was still aching every day.

  She sighed. Bear Schaefer was good to his mother too.

  “Would you like to go there with me?”

  “Huh?” Oh no, did that sound too frantic? “I mean, what?” It was frantic, all right. Her voice was shaking. And the color of red she’d been admiring on her wall moments ago—definitely the color of her cheeks now too.

  “Dinner. At Copper Pots.” Will cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels. “In Duckdale.”

  She forced herself to switch gears from Bear to the guy who was actually standing in her classroom. “Sure. That sounds nice.”

  “Okay.” His smile went wide. “What time?”

  Wait, hadn’t he been the one to ask her out? “When would you like to go?”

  There was a clock directly behind her, Maddie knew that, but William looked down at his wrist, pulling his sleeve up to check his watch instead. He squinted, tapped it twice, then looked back up at her. “Saturday’s Halloween, so I think it’d be best to go on Friday.”

  “Friday’s good.”

  “The kids get out early Friday,” he mumbled, “and so do we, which would be good, since it’s a bit of a drive …”

  “Okay.” She grinned. William really was sweet. Quirky, but sweet. “Friday. Three or four maybe?”

  “Perfect.
” He gave her a curt nod and walked out of the room without another word.

  Maddie didn’t see if he’d headed back to his classroom or out of the building. She leaned against her desk. Holy cannoli! Bear Schaefer was coming back to Cobble Creek. Maddie pressed her cold fingers to her warm cheek. And he’d be there at the school on Tuesday. She couldn’t let William take her place in the auditorium; Maddie would offer to take his class instead. There was no way she was going to miss out on watching Bear present to the kids at his home school of Cobble Creek Elementary.

  It wasn’t until she’d cleaned up the piles of paper on her desk, straightened her chair, and pulled on her coat that another thought occurred to her—something she’d almost forgotten amidst the memories of Bear. She had a date tomorrow with Willy Walker.

  Chapter 3

  The airplane window didn’t give Bear much of a view. With a black night on the other side of the glass, all he could see were reflections of the small family behind him. A mother reading with her son while the father caught a few Z’s.

  Bear ran a thumb along the plastic cup in his hand. His mom hadn’t sounded too good when they’d spoken before he boarded. But who could blame her? This time of year was always hard. The holidays were approaching, and she’d be adding another year without Dad to her life’s story. All of them would.

  Charles Schaefer had died at the far-too-young age of fifty-three. Somehow life had moved on, whether their family had wanted it to or not. Raising awareness about the recently passed forest bill was a significant accomplishment. One that helped ease his pain after the loss of his father. After all, Dad was the one who’d taught him the importance of protecting the forests for future generations, and how to educate those generations so the industry would hold its ground.