from the lot at the grocers,â he said as he stepped into the living room. If Sophie wouldnât accept his offer, then heâd go through Louise to get his way. âI owe Sophie big time for all her help.â
Sophie arched an eyebrow at his retreating back. He was serious about making restitution. That didnât sit well with her. But it also made her curious why heâd feel the need. Why couldnât he accept help without feeling an obligation to reciprocate?
âUncle David!â Troy protested. âMy mom said the good trees come from farms.â
Hearing Troy talk of his mother compelled Sophie to hurryforward. If the child cried again, she wanted to be there for him. But even as that thought formed, she reminded herself it wasnât her place to comfort Troy.
âAll Christmas trees come from tree farms, Troy,â Sophie said, joining them. She eyed Troy carefully. He didnât appear to be on the verge of tears. âThe ones at lots are usually sold as fund-raisers for various clubs or charities. So itâs not a bad thing to buy from the grocery store.â
âBut itâs much more enjoyable to go to a tree farm and cut down your own tree,â Grandma interjected. âYour grandfather and I went to school with the family who owns and operates Sleigh Bells tree farm. They have plenty of attractions that make the experience fun. Theyâve got a petting zoo, a Santa House, and sleigh rides.â
âAnd cinnamon-covered donuts!â Troy let out a whoop. âLast year we watched them make the donuts and then got to eat them while they were hot. Yummm.â
Sophieâs heart was warmed to see that Troy had such a fond memory to hold on to.
âLetâs do it!â Grandma clapped her hands in joy.
âGrams, itâs raining,â Sophie protested. Someone had to be the practical one. âNot to mention cold.â
âYou do remember youâre in the Pacific Northwest, right?â David asked. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. âRainy and cold is what winter is about here.â
She couldnât argue that point. âBut the tree will be too wet to put up.â Sophie imagined the mess that would be. Water droplets all over the place.
âThat will be true wherever the Christmas tree comes from,â David countered. âIt will have to dry in the garage until youâre ready to decorate, either way.â
âThat makes too much sense,â Sophie replied with a wry laugh. âBut Grandma shouldnât be out and about in the dark, rainy night.â
âHey, Iâm not an invalid,â Grandma said. âI can wheel myself through trees. And it doesnât require standing to munch on warm donuts.â
âWe havenât even had dinner yet,â Sophie said with a pointed look at her grandmother.
Grandma waved a hand. âAfter dinner, silly.â
âCan Riggs come, too?â Troy asked as he plopped down next to the puppy for some love.
âDoes the Christmas tree farm allow pets?â Sophie asked Grams.
âI believe so.â
Sophie glanced at the clock. âHow late is the farm open?â
âGood question,â David said and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. âIâll find out. Hopefully they have their hours posted on their website. What was the name of the place?â
âSleigh Bells.â
He grimaced as he looked at the screen. âTheyâre only open until eight. By the time we eat and drive there, we wouldnât have much time to look for a tree.â
Seeing the disappointment on Troyâs face and in Grandmaâs eyes, Sophie gave in. âLetâs make a day of it on Saturday, then. We could ride the sleigh, eat donuts, and pick a tree.â
âAnd pet the animals!â Troy cheered. âWhat about Riggs?â
âLetâs see.â David scrolled through the screen on the phone. âYes. They