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

past the outer branches to get to the branches with the best berries, Daniel sighed. “You do realize,” he said, to no one in particular, “that that would have worked if you’d been boys?”
    Several rude sounds were swallowed by girlish laughter.
    Softly laughing herself, Claire returned to helping Juliet gather the holly they’d collected.
    Juliet considered the pile. “More,” she said. She surveyed the bush they’d been plundering, eyes narrowing. “We have plenty of smaller pieces to weave into the fir. Perhaps we should take a larger branch—a signature piece for the main fireplace, perhaps.” She walked about the bush, peering this way and that, then she stopped and pointed. “How about that branch?”
    Claire looked. It was certainly a larger branch than they’d thus far attempted. “We can try.”
    Between them, using their coated backs, they managed to press back the outer branches sufficiently to get access to the longer, arching branch Juliet had identified. It was, indeed, a handsome specimen of its kind and would do very well stretched along the mantelpiece over the hall’s main fireplace. Claire nodded at Juliet. “I’ll hold it—you saw.”
    Juliet’s face lit with eagerness. She set her handsaw in position and started sawing.
    The branch was several inches thick. Less than halfway through, Juliet’s saw blade stuck.
    Frowning in concentration, she tried to push it, then tried to pull it free, but it didn’t shift. Juliet released the saw handle along with a sound of frustration.
    Claire opened her mouth to suggest they trade places.
    Before she could speak, Juliet whirled around. “I’ll get Mr. Crosbie.”
    No! Claire stifled her instinctive response—and Juliet darted out and the branches held back by her body sprang forward.
    Trapping Claire where she stood.
    She couldn’t even move her arms from the branch she was supporting without risking tangling herself even more inextricably…she was trapped in the thicket of holly.
    She didn’t have time to even start to panic; Daniel, summoned by Juliet and followed by all the girls, arrived on the scene.
    He looked at her, assessing her situation—and she saw his lips firm as he struggled to hold in his laughter.
    His gaze collided with hers, and she narrowed her eyes in warning.
    Lips twisting, he looked down, then he handed his hatchet to Louisa. “Hold that—I’ll probably need it once I get in there.”
    Luckily, they were all wearing thick gloves. But Daniel had to pick aside each thorny branch barricading his way into the area in which she stood, insinuating his body into place as he did, so that the branches slid and snagged along his back.
    He was a great deal larger than Juliet; by the time he was standing where Juliet had been, Claire felt as if she daren’t take a breath. Not a deep one, anyway.
    After meeting her eyes, humor still very evident in his, he examined the jammed saw. He gripped the handle and tried to shift it, but it moved less than an inch before jamming again. He humphed, then glanced at Claire. “I’ll cut the branch using the hatchet, but first I’ll need to free the saw.” He looked at her gloved hands, still loosely gripping the branch. “When I say, can you bend the branch down?”
    When he glanced at her face, she nodded.
    He nodded back. “Use all your weight if you have to.”
    He turned back to the saw, examined it again, then twisted his head and called, “Hand me the hatchet.”
    Annabelle was the smallest; she wriggled as close as she could and threaded the hatchet, handle first, through the branches. Daniel reached back, grasped the handle, then, after glancing at Claire as if to reassure himself that she was all right, he focused on the jammed saw blade; he lined up the edge of the hatchet blade and eased it into the same groove. “All right. Pull down now.”
    Gripping more tightly, Claire dragged the branch down.
    Daniel forced the hatchet blade deeper and at the same time wrenched