The Mechanics of Mistletoe

by Liz Isaacson

  “She’s upset with me,” he said. “Because I treated her like she couldn’t handle things herself.” He went on to explain it all, ending with the text he’d sent that morning. The text she hadn’t answered yet.

  “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s get the tree out.” He moved into the foyer, where the twelve-foot tree waited for them in a box. Together, he and Cactus unboxed it and started plugging all the lights in to make sure they worked.

  With the three sections together and lit up, Bear started pulling branches out to make a fuller-looking pine tree.

  “I’ll go get the others,” Cactus said. “And start the coffee.” He did that first, and then went out onto the deck to tell the rest of the family they were ready to decorate. The homestead filled with people, with laughter, with holiday cheer.

  Bear didn’t care that it was only November—and the very beginning of the month too. He loved their longer Christmas traditions, and he’d feel a part of a much bigger family unit every time he walked into the homestead.

  “Okay,” Zona said. “This box is from the seventies. Should we do decades like we’ve done before?”

  “Let’s just put them wherever,” someone said. “It’s too complicated to go piece by piece.”

  “I agree,” someone else called. “Two or three people end up decorating if we have something too organized, and the rest of us just sit here.”

  Bear let them talk it out, and Arizona was definitely out-voted. “Okay, okay,” she said grumpily. “I’ll just open the boxes, and you guys can start putting them wherever, like savages.”

  Bear chuckled, because she tried to get them to decorate by decade every blasted year, and every year she got shot down. He stepped out of the way as a surge of people came toward the tree with the crocheted ornaments Grandmother had made over the years.

  He usually put on two or three ornaments, and he retreated to the boxes to find the ones he wanted. He pulled a horse, delicately done in white thread, with tiny black tips on the ears, from the box. This one would be for his father.

  Bear missed his dad powerfully in that moment, his grief there as he inhaled, the breath tight. Then gone as he pushed the air out. “Love you, Dad,” he whispered as he found a hook and laced it through the top of the horse’s mane.

  He placed the ornament on the tree and returned to the boxes. Grandmother had made him a bear ornament when he was five years old, and he found the ornament, laced a hook through the ear, and hung it on the tree. “Thanks for loving me,” he whispered.

  Grandmother loved the moon, the night sky, and the stars. Someone had already placed the big star on top of the tree, but she’d done several others.

  He didn’t want one of those, though. She’d often told him that she loved him to the moon and back, and he searched for the crescent moon she’d made one year when he was only twenty. He found it near the bottom of the nineties box, hooked it, and found an empty spot on the tree for it.

  “Love you, Grandmother.” He smiled at Ward, who glanced at him.

  “Did Ranger say anything about lunch today?” he asked, his voice so low Bear almost missed it.

  “No,” Bear said. “He’s bein’ real tight-lipped about it.”

  “Oakley called me and asked me about him,” Ward said. “I didn’t tell him, because she asked me not to, and he won’t say two words to me.”

  “You think she said you told her?”

  Ward nodded, shot a glance to Ranger, who stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee and Bishop, the two of them talking about something. Bear watched them for a moment too. “One way to find out.”

  “No,” Ward hissed, but Bear had already started moving.

  He went into the kitchen to fix his own cup of coffee, intending to sidle up to Ranger and find out what he could. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noticed when all the chatter stopped. Only the Christmas music someone had turned on filled the air, and Bear hummed along to it until he heard someone say, “Uh, Bear. There’s someone here for you.”

  He turned toward Ranger, who nodded with an exaggerated head movement toward the front door.

  “For me?” Bear asked. “Who is it?” He picked up his creamed and sugared coffee and walked through the kitchen.

  It wasn’t hard to find their visitor, because Samantha Benton had always been a strong magnet for Bear’s soul. That, and literally all thirteen of them were staring at her. Then him. Then back to her.

  Bear stirred his coffee, trying to figure out what to do.

  “You two should talk on the porch,” Mother said, stepping forward and taking Bear’s coffee mug from him. “Go on, now, Bear. Don’t be a polar or a grizzly.”

  “Think panda,” someone called.

  “No, teddy,” Zona said.

  Bear didn’t know what to think, but Mother practically pushed him out the front door and onto the front porch, where Sammy had already retreated.

  Bear looked at her, and she looked right back at him.

  “I got this for you.” She shoved a loaf of bread into his hands, and Bear looked at the Amish friendship bread that had his mouth watering.

  He looked up at her again, somewhat surprised she’d brought him a gift.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “Looked like a fun family party.”

  “We’re decorating our angel tree tonight,” he said, really wishing he still had that coffee. It would give his hands something to do and his eyes somewhere else to look. He couldn’t rip into the bread, and he gestured to the pair of chairs with a round table between them. “Do you want to sit for a minute?”

  “Yes,” she said, and she led the way to the end of the porch. She fiddled with the wallet in her hands, her gaze trained on it. “I guess I just—I got your text, and I miss you too.” She looked up and met his eyes for a moment before her gaze scampered away again.

  Bear didn’t know what to do with that information. He could miss her, and she could miss him, and it still wouldn’t change anything.

  He put the friendship bread on the table. “I don’t—”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, cutting him off. “I intentionally put distance between us, because I was stressed, and worried, and I just didn’t need one more thing to stress over or worry about.”

  Bear gazed evenly at her, wishing he could root out her anxiety and blow it away with the wind.

  “I apologize if I made you feel weak,” he said.

  Sammy sighed in a frustrated way and shook her head. “You didn’t. I mean, you did, but it wasn’t intentional. I know that. I just…Bear.” She met his eye, and he found fire and determination in hers now. “I already feel inferior to you. You’re so good, and so handsome, and so…just amazing.” She pulled in a breath. “I hate that I’m not, and it’s so obvious to me when I’m with you.”

  “That’s just not true,” he said.

  “You know exactly what to do in every situation.” She cocked her head as if daring him to contradict her.

  “I do not,” he said. “Just because I know a guy to fix a roof doesn’t mean I know exactly what to do in every situation.” He gestured between the two of them. “If that were true, Sammy, we’d have had this conversation three weeks ago, and I wouldn’t have had to endure the past twenty days without you.”

  He sucked in a breath, having revealed so much of how he felt about her in only a few words. His heart raced, but as he breathed, it calmed. “I don’t know everything—”

  “Yes, you do,” she said.

  “—or who to call for everything—”

  “Again, you do.”

  “Fine,” he bit out. “Then I’ll stop. It’s fine, Sammy. We stopped, and it’s fine.” He didn’t want to have this conversation tonight. Or ever. “You’re determined to prove to me and everyone in Three Rivers that you can do every single thing by yourself. That’s fine if that’s what you want. You should stay single forever, because that’s what you’ll have to do to show everyone.”

  He stoo
d up, fearing he’d let the wrong kind of bear out of its cage tonight. “Why did you come here?”

  “To apologize,” she said. “I can’t even do that right.” She looked away, and Bear’s annoyance started to fade. He looked out in front of the homestead, where four trucks were parked besides his. Two horses had been tethered nearby too. She’d surely known there was a big party at the homestead, and she’d come and rung the doorbell anyway.

  “Sammy,” he said to the trucks and the lawn and the horses. “I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t know how to do things differently. With you, and Lincoln, and anyone you love and care about, I would literally do whatever I could to protect you from harm, from having to feel disappointment or pain of any kind.” He wasn’t sure if that made him pathetic or not.

  “I know that,” Sammy said, rising and coming to stand next to him.

  “It doesn’t make you weak,” he said. “It might make me stupid, but it doesn’t make you weak.”

  She inched closer and linked her arm through his. “I know that intellectually. I’m still working on it emotionally.”

  He looked at her, barely ducking his head to see her out of the bottom corner of his eye. She was touching him, and sparks flowed through his bloodstream now the way they always had.

  “And you’re not stupid,” Sammy said. “I love your big heart, Bear, and both Lincoln and I miss you desperately. You’ve left this giant hole in our lives.”

  Bear lifted his arm and put it around her, tucking her right against his side. His throat closed up with emotion, but he really wanted to tell her he loved her.

  “Can you forgive me?” she asked.

  “You forgive that woman,” Mother yelled through the window, and Bear turned back toward it, shock and horror moving through him simultaneously. The blinds rattled and Mother added, “And tell her you love her, you big lump. Everyone knows you do.”

  “Close the window,” he said, striding toward the table as if he could do it. “Ranger, get this window closed.”

  “That was really sweet, Bear,” Arizona said as Ranger started jostling to get to the window. “Maybe you’re like a gummy bear. Sweet and soft. Who knew?”

  Several others said something about how he should forgive Sammy and get back together with her before Ranger managed to get the window closed with a, “Sorry, Bear.”

  Bear pressed his eyes closed and drew in a breath through his nose. Then he turned back to Sammy.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sammy watched the delicious blush crawl up Bear’s neck.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “They’re a right big handful, and you’d be wise to get in your truck and never come back.”

  “I would?” She couldn’t help smiling at him. He was everything she wanted in her life. Tall, dark, hard-working. Those blue eyes, and those big hands. And oh, his heart. She loved his heart.

  “Did you hear what just happened?” he asked. “There’s only more of that to come. They’re loud, and obnoxious, and no one minds their own business.” He wore a storm in those eyes, and Sammy laughed.

  “I think I can handle them.”

  “Do you?” he challenged. “Because Sammy, I want you. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. I want to marry you and bring you to this house to live with me, and have kids with you, and those people are not going anywhere. If you choose me, you’ll be dealing with them forever.”

  Sammy’s own love for him swelled with every word he said. He hadn’t said, “I love you,” but “I want you,” was so much better.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Bear opened his mouth to say something but stalled. “Okay?” came out.

  She grinned and closed the distance between them. She put her hands on his chest and moved them up to his shoulders. “Okay, Bear. I want you too. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. I want to marry you, and bring Lincoln to come live with us in this house, and have kids with you.” Feeling wild and reckless and like her words weren’t her own, she added, “I choose you.”

  Bear blinked, his shock palpable. Then he leaned down and kissed her. Sammy loved the feel of him next to her, and the taste of him. She wanted to kiss him for a lot longer, but a cheer filled the air and surged to the forefront of her mind.

  He broke the kiss and kept her tucked safely against his chest as he faced the swelling crowd that was spilling from the homestead. Every single Glover was clapping and cheering. A few of the cowboys whistled through their teeth, and every man and woman was grinning from ear to ear.

  “All right,” Bear said gruffly, but he wore a smile that stretched across his whole face too. He looked down at her. “You might want to reconsider.”

  She giggled and shook her head. “Nope.” She’d already overthought everything, and she wasn’t going to fall into that trap again. She faced the Glover family. “If they’re willing to have me as part of their family, I’d be the luckiest woman in the world.”

  That set off a new round of explosive cheering, and she got swept away from Bear by Bishop and Judge, who both hugged her and said how happy they were that she’d come back.

  Bear’s family was congratulating him too, and Sammy saw him hugging his mother and talking to her quietly. She fell in love all over again with the big, tough cowboy with a heart of gold and a section of that heart reserved specifically for his mother.

  He eventually made his way back to her side, and the family went back into the foyer. He held her hand as they stood back and looked at the tree.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “I hung an ornament for my father and my grandmother,” he said. “You could put a couple on for Heather and Patrick.”

  Hope swelled within her. “Could I?”

  “Sure.” He indicated the boxes lining the wall by the door. “Pick two and put them on. We’ll honor them along with our family members who’ve passed on.”

  “Thank you, Bear.” She stepped over to the boxes and started looking through the remaining ornaments. She found a rocking horse, and her breath caught. Patrick had made a rocking horse for Lincoln before he was born. He’d loved riding it as a toddler, and Sammy still had it in her attic.

  A minute later, she found a bird that was probably a cardinal. Heather had loved birds and birdwatching, and together, the two ornaments felt like God Himself had put them there for her. She thought of Bear’s grandmother crocheting them and wondered if she’d perhaps been prompted to make these exact two ornaments at some point in the past, because the Lord knew of His future plans for Bear—and for Sammy.

  He’d known she’d be here this year, decorating this tree, and that she’d need these specific ornaments to honor her family members. She hung them on the tree and returned to Bear’s side, whispering again, “Thank you, Bear.”

  Her gratitude for him was about more than the tree and the ornaments. It was for forgiving her, though he’d been resistant to it at first. It was for loving her and Lincoln. It was for being Bear Glover.

  “I love you, Sammy,” he whispered back, and she’d been wrong. I love you was definitely better than I want you.

  “I love you too,” she said, now knowing the power of those words. He kissed her again, right there in front of everyone, and she didn’t even mind.

  Okay, but you’re not going to do a big thing, right? Sammy sent the text without censoring herself. She was getting better at that, and she had had one conversation with Bear where she’d prefaced it the way Jeff had taught her.

  It’s just me, Link, and my parents. That’s all we do. It’s not a huge thing like what you Glovers do.

  Bear called, which Sammy knew he would. She grinned at his picture and name—Teddy Panda Grizzly—on her phone. “Hey,” she said.

  “Did you or did you not plan a massive birthday party for me at the bowling alley?” he asked instead of saying hello. “With literally every person I knew?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But you like that. You’re used to it.”

  “D
o I?” he asked. “Am I?”

  “Yes,” she said, giggling. “Remember how I’ve been an only-child for five years? I really just want a quiet celebration, Bear.”

  “I understand,” he said. “Remember how I’m trying to listen and do what you ask me to do?”

  “Yes,” Sammy said. “I just don’t want to stifle you.”

  “Stifle me?”

  “Bear, you have a larger-than-life personality. Your heart is huge. I know you have a ton of money, and I know you’re willing to do anything to make me happy.”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “And what will make you happy is a quiet celebration with your family. So why would you be worried I’d do anything but that?”

  “Because your last text asked if I owned anything nice enough to wear to Richardson’s, and Bear, that’s not somewhere you go for a quiet celebration.”

  “Of course it is,” he said. “They even play that really classical music.”

  Sammy tried to stifle her laugher, but she couldn’t. “Really classical music?” she repeated. “Is that more classical than regular classical music?”

  “You know what I mean,” he said with a chuckle. “And by the way, okay is not the right answer for if you have anything to wear to Richardson’s. That’s a yes or no question.”

  “I have dresses I wear to church,” she said.

  “Okay, then,” he said. “Tomorrow night. Me and you at Richardson’s.”

  Sammy instantly began to worry about her parents, and her hesitation spoke volumes, because Bear said, “Sammy, please don’t worry. I have this all taken care of.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, you can worry if you want. I’m not perfect, but I do have a plan I hope will work.”

  Sammy smiled and shook her head. It had been a good three weeks with Bear now that they were back together. He’d resumed his kind gestures that showed her he loved her. He’d taken Lincoln to the ranch several times after school and on the weekends, and Lincoln absolutely adored Bear. He’d come to dinner at her parents’ house, and her mother had wept on his shoulder as she thanked him for helping them the day Daddy had fallen.