By Winter's Light: A Cynster Novel (Cynster Special Book 2) by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online Page B

holly sprigs just out of the girls’ reach, or to examine scratches and pulled threads.
    It took Daniel a little time before he realized what the girls’ plan was; he’d been right in thinking they had one, but they were really very good at hiding their purpose. He’d thought it strange when Louisa and Therese had brightly offered to cart the first pile of trimmed fir boughs back to the sled. He’d watched them go, their arms piled with greenery, and had wondered… He’d returned to his task but had glanced over at the sled in time to see a swift whispered exchange, which had ended with both girls stuffing something else green and leafy in among the fir they’d stacked.
    Intrigued, he continued to surreptitiously watch Louisa and Therese as they spread out beneath the trees. Eventually, Therese spotted something; she turned and caught Louisa’s eye and beckoned her over.
    Louisa reached Therese and, having seen what her cousin had, nodded. With Therese, Louisa moved forward—
    “Mr. Crosbie—can you help me split this branch?”
    Daniel turned to see Annabelle dragging a bifurcated branch of holly toward him.
    She hauled it around so that he could see and pointed. “Quite aside from it being too big, that part is less pretty. We don’t want that bit.” Annabelle fixed her dark blue eyes on his face.
    The urge to look around and check what Louisa and Therese were doing warred with the instinct to respond to Annabelle, to the clear expectation of his immediate attention shining in her eyes.
    Instinct—and Annabelle’s eyes—won out. Gripping the hatchet, he went to examine the branch.
    By the time he had dealt with that, had helped Annabelle to add the neatly trimmed “pretty branch” to the growing pile of holly, and finally looked up, it was to see Juliet and Claire in animated discussion over a particular fir tree that was slightly different from the rest. Annabelle was now trudging back toward them. Straightening and scanning the surrounding forest, Daniel eventually located Louisa and Therese. Instead of being where they’d been when he’d stopped to deal with Annabelle—been distracted by Annabelle? He had to wonder—the pair were now heading toward him with several boughs of fir in their arms.
    He knew he could simply ask what they were about, and if he insisted they would probably tell him, but…he remembered what it was like, as a youth, to have plans one kept secret from the adults. That was part of leaving childhood, of growing up. He eyed both girls as they neared, but as he’d yet to see the slightest sign that whatever they were up to posed any danger, either to themselves or to others, he decided he should wait and observe.
    Laying down the fresh boughs for trimming, Therese asked, “Are there any boughs ready to go back to the sled?”
    Daniel pointed at the mound to his right. “Those are ready for loading.” He glanced at the pair in time to see the brief exchange of an eager glance.
    Louisa brightly said, “We’ll take them down and stack them.”
    Daniel watched as the two girls divided the good-sized pile between them, then, balancing the unwieldy branches in their arms, headed back down the slight slope to the sled.
    He hesitated, then, after setting down the hatchet, he moved silently away from the fallen tree and set off after them.
    When the girls reached the sled and halted, Daniel halted, too. From ten yards away, he watched them dump the boughs they’d carried on the ground before the sled. Then they reached over the sled and drew up a pile of softer-leafed greenery…mistletoe.
    They were gathering mistletoe.
    Daniel stared. Had they guessed? Had he been that obvious?
    Were they intending the mistletoe for him and Claire—playing matchmaker? He certainly wouldn’t put it past them.
    Or were they simply doing this by way of making the most of the spirit of the season?
    As he watched, Louisa and Therese spread the mistletoe in a layer on the boughs already on the sled,