by Amber Kelly
Copyright © 2020 by Amber Kelly
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at www.authoramberkelly.com
Cover Designer: Sommer Stein
Cover Image: Michaela Mangum, Michaela Mangum Photography
Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
Proofreader: Judy Zweifel, Judy’s Proofreading
Formatter: Champagne Book Design
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Acknowledgements
Other Books
About the Author
To Autumn Gantz, an amazing publicist and a kick-ass friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Sophie
I reach into the box, pull out another tangled string of lights, and huff.
“Were Braxton and Walker drunk when they took the tree down last year?” I yell.
“Probably,” Elle answers as she comes down the hall with Lily Claire in her arms.
Hawkeye trails behind them, right on Elle’s heels.
“Straightening out this mess is going to take forever,” I grumble as I work at removing the worst knot.
“I don’t know how you get anything done. All I’d want to do is hold her every second of the day,” she says as she cuddles her niece.
“Rocking her and feeding her are pretty much all I do get done nowadays. That’s why the house is a wreck, and I look like one of the characters on The Walking Dead,” I reply.
“You do not. Other than the dried spit-up in your hair and the pizza stain on your pajama pants, you look amazing.”
I laugh. “Thanks.”
She sits on the sofa, and Hawk jumps up beside them and lays his head on her leg. He is never far from the baby. Wherever she goes, he goes. He has even taken to sleeping on the floor beside her bed instead of with Braxton and me. Which shocked us both, but he’s been protective of her since she was in my tummy. He battled a rattlesnake to keep it from striking while I was pregnant and lost the sight in his right eye as well as the hearing in his right ear.
Once I get the lights untangled, I walk over to the closest receptacle and plug in the strand, seeing that it illuminates immediately. I set it in the Working pile before I return to sit in front of the boxes of holiday decor.
A hiccup escapes Lily Claire before a loud burp, and Elle starts to giggle.
“You sound like your daddy,” she coos at the baby.
Lily Claire smiles.
“Yeah, she looks and acts like him too. She has the same grin and the same hot temper. I carried her for nine and a half months and pushed for six straight hours, but she decides to be his spitting image. Rude.”
“I think she has the Lancaster nose, and her hair is probably going to be light, like yours,” Elle says.
“You can’t possibly tell that.”
“Both Braxton and I were born with a head full of dark hair.” She shrugs.
I stop to consider that for a moment as I turn to look at my daughter’s perfectly bald head. I smile to myself because I like the thought of her having at least one feature that comes from me. I, too, was bald until the age of two, and in every picture of me from two to five years old, my mother put a bow into my fine white-blonde hair, making the tiny bit stick straight up. I looked like my head had sprung a leak.
“Well, hopefully, her temper will calm down, and she’ll have my disposition too. I don’t think I can live with two stubborn Youngs,” I tease as I fish ornaments out and separate them by color.
“What was that?” Braxton’s voice comes booming in as the front door launches open, and he leads the top of the tree into the living room with Walker bringing up the rear.
“What?” I ask as I jump to my feet.
He guides the tree to the bay windows that look out over our backyard, and he and Walker stand it up to its full height. They did it. They found a gorgeous, full blue spruce that reaches almost to the top of our two-story living space.
Walker secures the tree to the base as Braxton holds it in place.
“Don’t play innocent with me. I heard you call me stubborn,” Braxton says before he lets go of the tree and pulls me into him.
I shrug before I kiss his jaw.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“I love it; it’s perfect for Lily Claire’s first Christmas tree,” I say as I look up at the branches.
“I think so too,” he says proudly.
Walker stands back and admires their work.
“Took all morning with this ass critiquing every damn tree on the side of the mountain. That one’s too short; that one’s too skinny; that one is shaped funny. You’d have thought he was picking a wife, not a tree.”
“You were just as bad as I was,” Braxton accuses.
Walker just shrugs. “Well, that’s one down and three to go. We’d better get back to it,” he states.
“Three?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am. We still have to get one to Doreen and Ria, my mom, and my place for Elle and me.”
“Sounds like you guys have a full day ahead of you.” I grimace.
Braxton works the family ranch, Rustic Peak, sun up to sun down all week, and Sunday is his only day to spend with Lily Claire and me.
He runs his fingers up my neck and lifts my chin. “I promise I’ll hurry, so I can get home, and we can decorate the tree tonight.”
Uh-oh, I guess it’s time to come clean. I’ve been dreading this, but here goes nothing.
“I told Mom we’d wait for her and Stanhope before we trimmed the tree,” I break to him gently.
He frowns.
I knew he wasn’t going to be happy with that news.
“I thought we settled this already?” he asks as he lets me go and takes a step back.
“I know it’s our first Christmas with the baby, and you wanted to start all of our traditions, but this is the first year in forever that they want to spend Christmas at home instead of on a tropical beach, and I want it to be a family Christmas. Mom pleaded with me to let them do the tree with us, and you know I have a hard time telling her no.”
“Well, I don’t. Get Viv on the phone,” he demands.
Crap. I walked right into that one.
“I can’t. She and Stanhope are already on a plane. They’ll be here in a few hours,” I whisper as I try to hold back tears. It doesn’t take much to cause the waterworks lately.
“They’re already on a plane?” he bites out.
“I think that’s my cue to go wait in the truck. You want to come and give me some good-bye sugar, woman?” Walker asks Elle as he walks around us to the front door.
“Yep, we’ll see you off,” Elle agrees as sh
e stands with the baby, and she and Hawk follow him.
I watch them exit and shut the door before I look back to Braxton’s fiery eyes.
“How are they already en route to Poplar Falls before you even bothered to tell me they were coming?” he asks.
“It’s my mother. She didn’t call to tell me they were on their way until they were on the runway, about to take off,” I start to explain.
“We settled this over a week ago, Sophie. Did you not tell her we wanted to spend our first Christmas alone?”
“I tried. But she pointed out that Daddy and Madeline and the rest of our family will get to spend it with us. Which is true, and to be fair, I think they should get to come if they are willing.”
“That’s different, and you know it. The rest of the family have their own homes and aren’t in our space. Where do they plan to stay?”
“Here, of course,” I answer.
“Here? Not a hotel?”
“I’m not asking them to stay at a hotel when we have three extra bedrooms, Braxton. That’s just ridiculous. They never make me get a hotel room when I’m in the city. They make me feel completely welcome at their home.”
“They can stay at the ranch, then. There is plenty of room over there,” he suggests.
“You can’t be serious. You want my mother to stay in Daddy and Madeline’s house?”
“They won’t care.”
“Oh my God, yes, they will. And even if they said it was okay, my mother would flip her shit. Stop being an ass, Mr. Grinch.”
“I’m not the one being unreasonable. It’s my daughter’s first Christmas. It’s our first holiday as a family. I want to start our traditions, just the three of us.”
“Braxton, it’s my mom. She’s Lily Claire’s grandmother, and she hasn’t even seen her granddaughter—who was named after her—in person yet. And you’re right. It’s her first Christmas. I want all the people who love her to be here for it while they are healthy and alive and can be,” I explain as my tears finally give up the fight and roll down my cheeks.
He sighs loudly. “Fine. We’ll wait for them,” he says as he stomps past me.
“Braxton!”
He turns, and I can see the anger rippling off of him like waves.
“Please don’t be mad,” I plead.
He doesn’t respond; he just grabs the handle and walks out, slamming the door behind him.
I flinch and stare after him until the door opens slowly, and Elle emerges.
“Looks like that went over well,” she says.
“As well as I thought it would.” I sniffle.
“I’m sorry my brother is such a jackass sometimes. You want me to have a stern sister-to-brother talk with him? Or better yet, I can tattle to Aunt Doreen and Aunt Ria and let them deal with him,” she asks.
That makes me laugh. “Thanks for the offer, but he’s my husband, and I can handle him myself. I think these postpartum hormones have thrown me off my game. I’ll pull myself together before he gets home tonight, and I’ll set him straight. Don’t worry,” I tell her.
“That’s my girl,” she says as she bounces Lily Claire. She whispers to her, “Us women have to stick together and show them boys who’s boss.”
The phone rings, and I walk to the kitchen to get it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, little momma.” Charlotte’s chipper voice comes over the line.
“Hey, Char,” I greet my business partner and one of my best friends.
“How’s my goddaughter today?”
“Perfect. She’s currently curled up in her aunt Elle’s arms, taking a power nap.”
“God, I wish I were there. I hate that it’s going to be another month before I get to meet her. Dallas is going to have her all convinced that she’s her favorite before I have a chance to spoil her rotten.”
“Dallas has her hands full with her own baby right now. I think you’re safe,” I assure her.
My best friend, Dallas Wilson, gave birth to her daughter, Faith, a couple of months before Lily Claire came along.
“It’s fine. I can totally compete. I’ll just pull out the big guns once she’s a little older.”
I don’t dare guess what Charlotte considers the big guns.
“Anyway, I was calling to tell you that I set up a meeting with the new marketing firm on Wednesday before we close up shop for the holidays. I’ll video conference you in, so be sure to brush your hair and put on some real clothes.”
“Ugh, I guess I can do that, but call me an hour before and make sure I’m not napping. Lily Claire has her days and nights mixed up, and she wants to party like a rock star all night long and sleep her milk hangovers off all day.”
She laughs. “She is totally going to love me best. She’s already my spirit animal.”
“I’ll FaceTime you tonight, so you can see her when we light the tree for the first time,” I offer.
“Yes, please do. I miss you guys. I wish you weren’t a three-hour plane ride away,” she whines.
“Me too, but you’ll be here in February, and that’s not that far away.”
“Okay, I’m at spin class, so I’m going to let you go. Squeeze that baby for me, and I’ll call you on Wednesday.”
“Sounds good.”
I hang up the phone and smile to myself. I have a secret surprise for Charlotte that she isn’t expecting. It will be arriving Wednesday night, and I can’t wait for her to find out what it is. She’s going to freak out.
I join Elle back in the living room.
“I’m going to lay her in her crib and come help you. What do we need to conquer first?” she asks.
I look around. “I have to get these decorations sorted, this house semi-clean, and myself bathed before Mom and Stanhope arrive.”
“How long do we have?”
“They land in Denver in three hours,” I tell her.
“Great! Then, there’s the drive out to Poplar Falls, so that gives us about five hours. Plenty of time to get everything ready.”
“Thank you, Elle. I appreciate you spending your Sunday with us.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Braxton
Walker and I ride in silence to the ranch. He pulls up in front of the main house and parks just as Doreen, Ria, and Pop step out on the porch.
“Oh, we were hoping you guys would make it here soon,” Ria says as she descends the steps to the driveway.
Walker and I exit the truck cab and walk around and meet her at the back, where three trees remain.
“These are gorgeous. You two did so well,” she squees.
“Which one do you want?” Walker asks.
“Hmm, let me see. This one looks nice and full. Oh, but that one is taller. Goodness, Doreen, you come and decide,” Ria calls as she fusses over the choices.
Doreen joins us and assesses them. “The other two are for …” she asks as she looks at us.
“My mom, and the other is for my place,” Walker answers.
“Well, your mother’s ceiling isn’t as high as ours, so I think we’ll take the taller one. You and Edith can fight over who gets the fuller one,” she says with a smile as she eyeballs me.
“The tall one it is,” I say as I pull my gloves on and undo the bungee cord holding the trees in place.
The women back up as Walker and I load their pick onto our shoulders and guide it toward the steps.
Pop holds the door open wide, and we carry the tree to the usual spot at the bay windows that look out to the front of the house.
We secure the tree, and I pull my gloves off before I walk back outside.
Doreen is standing there with her hands on her hips, watching me. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, please, Braxton Young. I know when something has you agitated. Is it having to deliver trees? I could have sent Jefferson and Emmett to fetch it.”
“No, ma’am. It’s not that.”
“Then, what is it?” she
asks as she and Ria and Pop all stare at me, waiting.
The screen door opens, and Walker comes in behind me, popping the top off a cold beer.
“He’s got his panties all in a wad because Sophie’s mom and stepdad are coming for Christmas,” he spills.
“Is that all?” Ria asks, confused.
“Yep, he is being a big ole baby about the whole thing. He even made Sophie cry.”
“Braxton,” Doreen scolds.
I cut my eyes to Walker and give him a seething glare, and the asshole just grins at me.
“I’m not in the mood to put up with Vivian. Sophie is exhausted and doesn’t need to be playing hostess, and I barely get time with my girls as it is. I wanted our first Christmas together to be special, relaxed, just the three of us enjoying each other,” I defend myself.
“Oh, Braxton, don’t you think you’re being a little selfish?” Ria asks.
“Selfish? No,” I retort.
“You can’t expect Sophie to turn her parents away. Especially now. Son, when a woman has a baby of her own, she wants and needs her mother,” Doreen adds.
“Why? She has you guys and Madeline and Elle. Dallas is an expert.”
“That’s not the same. She wants her mother. Just like a child wants its mother when it’s sick or overwhelmed. Vivian might be a bit overbearing, but she loves Sophie, and Sophie loves her and wants to share this precious time with her. It’s a bonding experience. Plus, it’s Lily Claire’s first Christmas, and Sophie wants her grandmother to be a part of it, just like Gram was a part of all her Christmas memories,” Doreen explains.
I hang my head. “Shit, I am an asshole.”
Doreen lays her hand on my shoulder. “You’re just new to this husband and father thing. You’ll get the hang of it. Just talk to her and apologize for overreacting and any other knuckleheaded thing you might have said. Then, offer a compromise. Like, after everything settles on Christmas Day, you and your girls go home together to spend the evening alone. Vivian and Stan can hang out with us or in town. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind just one night at the inn.”
I look at her and then back up on the porch to Ria and Pop.
“I’m not winning any Happily Married awards, am I?” I ask.
