Free Falling Like Snowflakes by Denise Hunter

cleaner somehow. Each time she’d messed up, she’d expected it to be her last day. But Beau took each mistake in stride.
    He had asked for her W-4 form, but she told him she’d left it at Paige’s. She couldn’t stall much longer. She’d have to use a fake social security number and hope she was long gone by the time the government informed him of the error.
    Eden lit the kindling in the fireplace and watched a log catch fire, then she turned on the radio, flipping stations until she found Christmas carols. She’d finally thought of a way to redeem herself. The turkey was thawing in the refrigerator, the potatoes were scrubbed and sitting on the counter, and Miss Trudy was napping. It was time to make this place festive.
    She hauled the decorations from the attic and started to work. By the time the sun set, the house was a Christmas wonderland. A twinkling garland lined the mantel and staircase, and faux candles glimmered here and there. Miss Trudy had awakened from her nap halfway through and supervised. Riley had nodded approvingly when he passed through the living room.
    She couldn’t wait for Beau to see her handiwork.

    Beau turned off his truck and stepped out into the cold wind. The barn was all set up with wreaths and garlands. The delivery truck had arrived from Bethel Farms, and he’d unloaded one hundred trees to supplement their own stock. He didn’t mind these quiet days of preparation. But day after tomorrow the madness would start.
    Customers pouring in. The smell of cut pine flooding the barn. Christmas carols following him everywhere. Children sipping hot chocolate, wrapped in scarves and layers of down. And the constant ringing of the sleigh bells as Marty Bennington guided the horses down the snow-covered trails would haunt him long after he turned the Closed sign at the end of each day.
    Between the approaching season and Riley’s news, Beau’s mood was on the sour side. Riley had been avoiding him, and Paige hadn’t come over for supper all week. Of course Kate’s lack of culinary skills might factor in. Beau had insisted they order pizza tonight since she had her hands full with Thanksgiving tomorrow. His hopes for that particular meal weren’t too high.
    He didn’t want to think about Christmas, but it was hard when he was pretty much surrounded by it all day. He just had to keep busy. It would soon be over and he could stuff the memories into the past where they belonged, just as his dad had.
    He trudged up the porch steps, stomping his boots as he went.
    Riley came out the door just as Beau reached the top step, and stopped short when he saw his brother.
    â€œShould’ve left a few minutes earlier,” Beau said. “You almost missed me.”
    â€œYeah, too bad.” Riley edged around him.
    Beau grabbed his arm. “When are you going to stop being such an idiot?”
    Riley jerked from his grasp and continued on his way. “Why don’t you go to Paige’s and leave me alone?”
    â€œMaybe I will. She’s upset about you leaving, too, or haven’t you bothered having that conversation with her?”
    â€œYeah, I’ll bet she’s crying buckets,” Riley said over his shoulder.
    â€œWhat is your problem?”
    The only answer was the slam of Riley’s truck door. The engine revved, and the truck started down the lane. Exhaust curled from the tailpipe, vaporizing in the cold air.
    Beau growled as he gave two hard stamps of his feet. Riley was so stubborn. He didn’t know what had gotten into him. Ever since their dad died, he’d been withdrawn and moody. Beau wanted to slug his brother for the pain he was causing.
    Beau opened the door and stopped in his tracks at the view. Ornate garlands ran up the staircase and along the mantel where familiar stockings hung—their names applied in Mom’s familiar script. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, filled with ornaments he