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Thank goodness it’s Friday! Thanks for having me as
a guest, JC. I’m here to share Heart of
the Pines, which was released on December 1 as part of Dreamspinner’s
Advent Calendar.
I thought I’d tell a little story from my childhood
to set the mood for the holidays. I was pretty young, and at a friends riding
horses. We were young, 5th or 6th grade and several kids
had ponies. By the way, are Shetlands always mean, or is it just my luck?
Anyway, I digress. One of my buddies had a beautiful Paint, not a pony either,
a small horse. So he was king of cool. What can I say I was ten or so. I was
helping put on the saddle while he was putting on the bridle and a few
strategic errors happened.
First off, I didn’t pay enough attention to what I
was doing. Second, my friend should have watched me closer. Oh, and it would
have helped if he’d told me his horse held her breath to keep you from getting
the cinch tight…
Yes, you’ve figured it out. The two of us climbed
into the saddle, me behind, and off we go. Now, I’m holding on, to my friend
and the horse. But some odd things started happening. Gradually, oh so slowly,
the saddle started leaning to the right. The horse moved to a trot, and a trot
with no stirrups is not fun anyway. But we were leaning to the side, further with
each step because the mare had managed to keep me from getting the cinch tight.
Well I didn’t last much longer. There was a nice
soft looking gopher mound coming up, and I dove for it. I think I managed to
hit it dead center, probably head first. So here was this cotton-top kid
sitting in the pasture while the others rode past grinning at me. Actually, I
think I was laughing too. Probably just happy to have not broken my fool neck.
My buddy?
He was still in the saddle.
Sideways.
There’s one in every crowd.
Okay, so maybe it was more a Jon story than a
holiday story. But hopefully you got a little smile and enjoyed it. Just like I
hope you enjoy Heart of the Pines.
See, I did bring it back together.
~ Jon ~
blurb
Christmas is the worst time of the year to find
yourself alone. Chris Moss, owner of a tree farm, knows this down to his bones
as he makes his way through his first holiday season after losing his wife to
cancer. When Wade Hart, an annual customer at the farm, visits, they find
common ground: Wade lost his own longtime lover to a parting of ways and is
lonely too. The constant, gentle companionship provides fertile soil for an
attraction neither expects, but nurturing a new relationship is a tough
proposition. With the encouragement of family and friends, Chris and Wade may
yet find that a second love later in life can be just as fulfilling as the
first.
Excerpt
from Heart
of the Pines.
Jets
of steamy breath shot from Wade’s nostrils as he struggled to drag the enormous
Christmas tree across the loose Michigan snow. The bells on Chris’s Santa hat
jingled merrily as he hurried out to help his friend pull the tree up the final
hillock to the barn.
“Here,
let me give you a hand.” Stepping along the slowing tree, Chris wrapped a
glove-covered hand around a branch and lent his strength to the effort.
Wade
nodded and smiled. “Thanks, it’s a little much by myself.”
“No
problem, happy to help. Looks like you got a beaut,” said Chris.
Wade
pulled off his knit hat and wiped the perspiration from his head. “It’s a good
one. I think I’ve covered your whole farm, several times, to find the perfect
tree.”
They
pulled the tree into the work area and hoisted it onto the sawbuck. “Want me to
trim it up for you?”
“Sure.
One less thing I’ll have to do.” Wade laid the handsaw he’d used on the table
behind them, then tugged his thick cap on while Chris made a few quick cuts
with the chainsaw to ready the tree for his stand. The roar of the saw faded,
and Chris struggled for a few minutes as he tried to push the tree into the
netting. As he began his second attempt, Wade woke from his stupor and grabbed
the other side of the tree.
“Sorry,
I’m a little spacey today,” said Wade.
With
his help, Chris slid the tree into the tube of netting, getting it ready for
Wade’s SUV. “No problem. It’s a huge tree. I hope Jeff will be around to help
you unload.”
Wade
folded his arms over his chest, a pained look on his face. “Jeff moved out.
Last week. I thought makin’ our annual trip to your farm for a tree would keep
me from thinkin’ about it.” Wade turned his head and let out a shuddering sigh.
“I guess it’s not ‘our’ trip anymore.”
Chris
gave Wade’s shoulder a squeeze. “Sorry to hear that. You guys always seemed happy
together. Jeff was always cutting up and flirting with Mary.” I haven’t forgotten you attended her
funeral.
“It
happens. I guess we lasted longer than a lot of couples. Ten years isn’t bad.”
Wade’s fingers ran over one of the fir boughs edging the barn windows. “It was
good in the beginning, like newlyweds. Jeff loved our loft in Chicago. But ever
since we moved to Traverse City, the relationship had slowly gone downhill. Our
business downtown was an attempt to find something to keep Jeff happy.”
The
pain in Wade’s eyes sparked a wave of bitter nostalgia for Chris. He missed
Mary so desperately some days. She always was the caretaker of the family, even
when they got the diagnosis of stage-four cancer; she still took care of
everyone else until it was impossible for her to keep doing it. He turned to
the barn behind them, pulled off the Santa hat, and held it tight in his hands
as the frigid air gusted through his short white hair.
The
farm was always beautiful this time of year, the ground covered with
crystalline flakes in a white carpet that extended to the steps of the house,
which he kept carefully swept. He hadn’t changed anything since Mary died. It
had been more difficult in the summer when the beds that hugged the foundation
of their house were ablaze with flowers Mary had planted and nursed through the
years. The winter covering had been a blessed relief, but his heart still ached
at the lack of holiday decorations. Mary had loved the season, and given half a
chance, she covered everything within striking distance with lights. Without
her, the trimmings just hadn’t mattered.
He
shook himself and focused on finishing with Wade’s tree. He tied the bottom of
the netting and turned to Wade. “There you go. All bundled and ready to put in
that great foyer you have.”
“Not
so grand this year. It’s kind of tough to get into the spirit of the season.”
Chris
gave Wade a sympathetic smile. “It could be worse….”
Realization
hit Wade. “Oh my God! I can’t believe I’ve been such an ass. This is your first
Christmas alone. I’m so sorry, Chris. I feel awful.”
“It’s
not your fault. It’s been almost a year since her funeral. It’s ancient history
to most people.” Although it seems like
yesterday to me. I can still feel her soft hand in mine as we picnicked on one
of Lake Michigan’s sugar sand beaches on our first date, playing in the chilly
crystal clear water. Even then, she’d taken care of everything and had the
perfect lunch basket packed.
“Yeah,
but Mary always said Christmas was her favorite time of the year.”
“It
was, and I haven’t felt like doing much. It’s a lot more work to take care of
the farm alone too. But the income for the whole year happens in the next month
or so. Doesn’t leave me with many choices.” Chris smiled at Wade. “Bad thing
about a Christmas tree farm, firs just aren’t that tasty.”
Wade
gave a nod, and then his eyes lit up. “Hey, what if I do it? I’ve helped Mary
put up the decorations before. It’ll keep me busy, and Santa’s Tree Farm needs
to look more festive than either of us feels.”
Chris
couldn’t help but smile at the sudden enthusiasm. “If you’d like, that would be
great. I just can’t face the stuff. Too many memories.”
“Southern
boy to the rescue! I got this covered.” Wade clapped his hand on Chris’s bicep
and squeezed it. Chris found a comfort from the contact that surprised him.
Mary’s touch had always had that unique ability to soothe him. Some nights its
absence had left him curled around her pillow with tears streaming down his
face.
Chris
fished a ring of keys from his pocket, flipped through them, and held one out
for Wade. “This unlocks the storage padlock. Anything you want to do would be
great. I have a few customers wandering around looking for trees. I better go
check on them.”
Chris
raced through the light snowfall while Wade started for the storage building.
eBook
Link: http://tinyurl.com/poamkye
Jon Keys’ earliest memories revolve around books;
with the first ones he can recall reading himself being “The Warlord of Mars”
and anything with Tarzan. (The local library wasn’t particularly up to date.)
But as puberty set in he started sneaking his mother’s romance magazines and
added the world of romance and erotica to his mix of science fiction, fantasy,
and comic books.
A voracious reader for almost half a century, Jon
has only recently begun creating his own flights of fiction for the
entertainment of others. Born in the Southwest and now living in the Midwest,
Jon has worked as a ranch hand, teacher, computer tech, roughneck, designer,
retail clerk, welder, artist, and, yes, pool boy; with interests ranging from
kayaking and hunting to painting and cooking, he draws from a wide range of
life experiences to create written works that draw the reader in and wrap them
in a good story.
E-mail: jon.keys@ymail.com
Blog: http://jonkeys.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jon.keys.773Twitter: @Jon4Keys
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