Holly head Slopes

Chapter two

An overwhelming sense of warmth hit me. The cabin was less of a cabin and more of a mountain mansion. It was all wood, just like I remembered. The living room still had the softest white sofa, which Jordan and I were banned from when we coloured or ate our lunchtime soup. Godspeed to it now the Hughes twins have arrived. It looked out onto a big snowy garden and then other cabins. It would make a stunning Christmas card.

The beautiful spiral staircase that led upstairs was decorated with family photos. My Dad and Uncle Sam on the mountain and Grandma and Grandpa's Mountain honeymoon photos were my favourites. Jordan and I, with bright red cheeks, playing outside, made me giggle. I quickly snapped a photo and sent it to him, with hopes he'd get his ass on the road already.

Dad and Uncle Sam continued their trips back and forth to the car to retrieve the Christmas presents. You could tell my Dad was older; besides the faint smile and wrinkles, Uncle Sam still acted like the annoying little Brother and made everything a competition; who could unload the car the quickest was their current one. I shook my head at their childish behaviour and slipped my boots off.

I followed the noise of the rest of the family into the kitchen—my favourite place. The Hughes Mountain kitchen was the biggest and brightest one I have ever entered. The white marble countertops complimented the dark wood like a dream. My eyes found the newest addition to the room.

A cabinet to display all my Grandma's cookery books. It was a floor-to-ceiling cabinet. She smiled when she noticed my expression.

"I thought you'd be impressed. I figured since you will probably spend most of your days in here, I would dig out all my books." She rested her hands on my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my cheek. She knew me very well.

Both of my Grandparents did. They loved the mountains but never forced me to ski or snowboard. Unlike the rest of my family, I wasn't as naturally gifted in winter sports. Even my sixty-five-year-old Grandpa hits the slopes like a twenty-year-old! I prefer being in the mountain café reading and studying or getting dinner ready at home.

"Grandma, where's the tree?" Frankie asked with sad puppy dog eyes. This kid could melt the earth.

There was a big gap in the corner of the living room. The tall ceiling allowed enough room for a tree three times the size of our one at home.

"Well, I thought we'd send the men out to get us a tree, and we can all decorate it this evening." She smiled from the kitchen. Grandma was a sucker for Christmas. She shopped throughout the year and spent all of November trying to convince Grandpa it wasn't too early for festive activities.

"Can we go? I want to use a big saw." Johnny dramatically said as he pretended to cut a tree. The thought of my two little cousins holding something sharp enough to cut a tree down was harrowing.

"But then, who would decorate the gingerbread houses?" Grandpa countered. Clearly, they had a game plan. The boys high-fived each other and hurried into the kitchen. Food outranked their tree-cutting dreams. "We better get going, boys; without Jordan, the team is already down one."

"Grandpa, should you be cutting down a tree at your age?" The whole room fell silent.

Do you know those moments when you wish to take back your words and stay silent instead? Well, that was my wish.

"I may be old, Missy, but I still have a few tree-cutting years left in me."

"Well, I'm coming too."

***

Jordan missing the tree cutting is another thing to add to the list of things he owes me for. My first thought was the four of us landing in a random forest, so I was pleasantly surprised when we pulled into a tree market. We still had to cut them down, but this way seemed more ethical than hacking a forest.

We jumped out of Grandpa's truck that he took to the slopes, which made a perfect tree transporter.

Families past us, dragging their chosen trees with proud faces. I can't say I've cut down my own tree before, but I didn't fancy the idea of the men of the family being unsupervised with sharp axes.

A young, rosy-cheeked boy greeted us upon our arrival. His name tag read 'Myles.' He was tall and seemed muscular, but his multiple layers, like the rest of us, can be deceiving.

"Are you all together?" He asked as we waited patiently, somewhat. Dad and Uncle Sam were practically bouncing on the spot. I nodded, and he gave us a map. The boys joked that we didn't need a map to find trees, but it didn't stop them from using it when they were lost.

"This one should do," Dad said, standing before a giant tree. We surrounded the evergreen in question. According to the map, it was a Fraser Fir.

"Is it big enough?" Uncle Sam questioned.

"I was thinking it was too big," I said with a gaping mouth. "We really should have measured. Grandpa, any idea?"

"Abi, don't tell me you expect me to know the measurements of our living room?" He chuckled. We laughed with each other about our dilemma. The first hour we're here, and I'm about to cut down a Christmas tree that might be too big or too small in the freezing cold.

"I say we cut it, and if it's wrong, then it's Abi's fault." Uncle Sam said. They looked at each other and nodded. As I was about to object, my Father took the first chop.

It was too late to back out now, and if I was going to be blamed, I might as well join. It was finally my turn to have a go. I was laughing at the dramatic grunts that they had made, but I soon understood when I took my first swing. Decorating a gingerbread house would be a lot less tasking. It didn't help that people were leaving the place like Piccadilly Circus. We just had to pick the big one.

My Dad put some substantial swings in. His golf days are finally paying off because it was nearly ready to fall.

"Abi. I think you should do the honours." My Grandpa said, offering me the axe. There are perks of being the princess of the family. I took the warm red tool and returned to the strong stance we had all spent too long in.

I gave it a strong swing, and the satisfying noise of a tree snapping made me smile, but I didn't realise it was falling in my direction. My joy soon turned to panic as I froze.

Thankfully, I was suddenly pulled aside by my waist. My heart pounded as the tree hit the snow less than a second later. I looked up to see who was gripping me so tight.

"I forgot to mention to cut it the opposite way." The familiar boy said. I laughed through my heavy breathing. "Are you okay?" he asked with great concern. Understandably, considering a giant tree almost crushed me.

I nodded, forgetting my words. "Good save, Myles." Uncle Sam applauded from the other side. He quickly steadied me and stepped away. For some strange reason, I wish he hadn't. He smelt like fresh pine and a sweet natural musk.

I wanted to yell at my frustrating family and curse them for not saving me but instead leaving it to a stranger.

"Thank you, Sir. I'll be at the front to wrap it up for you." They nodded and looked to admire our handy work. "Think you can avoid more danger?" He whispered to me with narrowed eyes. I rolled my eyes at his parting comment and returned to the attempted murder tree. A smile played on my lips as I remembered Myles' tight grip; he lifted me like a feather, and his quick reactions were massively impressive.

"Mission accomplished," Grandpa shouted with his hands in the air. Despite my slight bitterness, I joined in. "But maybe we shouldn't talk about nearly killing Abi."