by Vivian Arend
Hanna’s daughter stood beside her at the breakfast table, all but quivering with excitement. “Please say yes,” Crissy begged.
It wasn’t only her daughter who turned puppy-dog eyes in her direction. Patrick had upped the ante to his most charming level of enticement as he sat kitty-corner to Hanna at the breakfast table. “Might be the only day this week nice enough to get outside, with that storm rolling in and all.”
The only one who wasn’t working his charm to convince her was Brad.
She smiled without thinking about it. He truly wasn’t a morning person. In an attempt to not be outright cranky, he sat and silently sipped his coffee, refusing to participate in any conversation he could avoid until after nine a.m.
“Why am I the one who has to make the final decision?” Hanna asked, keeping her amusement out of her voice with difficulty. “If this were a democracy, since it appears Brad is abstaining, you’d already have more than fifty percent of the votes.”
Patrick caved, looking slightly sheepish. “Everyone knows that a mother’s vote counts double compared to the rest of us.”
Brad snorted.
Nothing else, just a single snort, but that was more than his usual morning contribution, and suddenly Hanna had a deep desire to get up, storm around the table and throw herself into his arms. Maybe even tickle him until he laughed.
Although knowing him, tickles would probably change to kisses soon enough—and that was a line of thinking she needed to avoid.
Ever since she’d lost her mind in the kitchen a couple of days earlier, Brad had been careful to not push her, but he’d been watching closely. He was waiting, checking her for clues, and while she was really tempted to keep moving forward, the momentary pause had been good.
It gave her a chance to consider what was best, not only for now but for the future. For both her and Crissy.
It was too easy to fall into hopeful dreaming and wishful thoughts. Following through with what her body craved would be wonderful for the short-term, but considering what Crissy hoped to get for a Christmas present, Hanna knew she needed to take a few more deep breaths before committing any further.
Maybe this was right. Maybe Brad was the one for them, but she knew moving faster than they should might cause a world of hurt. She cared too much for Brad, and Patrick as well, to want that for any of them.
But this? The request before her right now was a kind of pleasure very much in line with good memories of the best kind.
She examined the two mischievous elves before her, one old, one young, and offered them an enormous, dramatic sigh. “Very well, if we must have a tobogganing party, I suppose—”
Patrick might’ve squealed louder than Crissy.
“Only you have to help make the calls to invite people,” Hanna warned her daughter. “And you have to help set up everything and clean up any messes with me.”
Crissy was already running off to grab the phone as Patrick pulled out a sheet of paper and began jotting down names.
Hanna met Brad’s amused gazed. “You realize if you wanted to say no, now is too late.”
“It’s fine.”
A whole two words. Wow, that was a record. “I’m going to remember this for the future,” she warned him. “Anytime I want something from you, I’ll just ask for it first thing in the morning.”
The flash of fire in his eyes warned he was going to take her offer exactly the way he wanted to. “Please do.”
He finished his drink and got up from the table, slapping a hand down on his father’s shoulder before leaving the room.
Organizing the party took less than an hour. Shortly after noon, an assortment of cars and trucks were pulling up outside Lone Pine ranch. Once he’d woken up enough, Brad joined them and did more than his share to help get things ready.
No one came with empty hands, either. Little girls scattered with Crissy out to the barn to play with the kittens until it was time to load up the sleigh and head up the hill. Patrick watched with a contented grin as friends poured through his front door, pausing to say hello and wish him holiday greetings.
Tamara had made the trip and settled beside him as the action continued to flow into the kitchen.
Hanna paused to speak to her. “Glad you’re feeling well enough to join in,” she offered.
Her friend offered a weak grin. “If I disappear, don’t take it personally. Just can’t stand the thought of missing the girls’ holiday excitement. I don’t want all their memories of the coming baby to be about how sick I was.”
Hanna planted her fists on her hips. “They’re going to remember their mama took good care of the baby even before it came out of her belly. Kids are resilient,” Hanna reminded her.
“Good point.” Tamara offered a sincere hug. “Thanks.”
By the time everyone had been loaded onto the sleigh, there was enough of a crowd that Walker and Caleb mounted up on a couple of extra horses. Patrick sat with the children on the hay bales. Hanna got squeezed between Tamara and Brad, her legs tight against his. When he put both reins in one hand and slipped the other behind her back, it took her at least three minutes to start breathing normally again.
She was in his arms, exactly where she wanted to be—no more lying to herself. The idea still scared her to death, but she ached for his touch, for more of his kisses and his caring.
He pulled the sled to a stop beside the old mountain cabin and everyone unloaded, setting up sleds and taking picnic baskets into the wooden structure. They got the stove going and hot cider warming on the surface, and for the next hour or so children flew up and down the hill with the adults helping pull the sleds to the top again.
It was pleasure of a most innocent sort, filled with happiness and a sweet joy. Hanna took the time to examine her friends’ faces, thrilled to see they were enjoying themselves thoroughly.
Even Tamara, who’d retreated to a bale tucked into the shelter of the cabin. Her daughters were alternating sitting with her and sliding, and when Caleb strode over and knelt by her feet, stroking her cheek with visible love in his touch, Hanna had to look away.
Spotting Brad staring at her did nothing to calm the pounding in her heart. She wanted—
“Mommy. Come play,” Crissy demanded, catching her hand and pulling her into the delighted bevy of little girls. Hanna snuck a final peek at Brad. He winked at her, and then she was caught up in Crissy’s laughter.
Snow began to fall. Big fluffy flakes at first, festively covering everything like the best of homemade holiday decorations, before coming down thicker and thicker. Hanna whirled on the spot, the happiness inside her spinning free. She caught snowflakes on her tongue with her daughter as Sasha and Emma and Crissy’s other friends made snow angels.
It was a situation far removed from fear and decisions and momentous events—and Hanna wanted it to go on forever.
He’d been watching her. No, he’d been staring, unable to look away as she danced with her friends and the children, sheer joy in every step.
Someone cleared their throat.
Brad shook himself, glancing to the side to see Walker eyeing him, amusement on his face.
“Don’t bother saying it,” Brad warned.
“You don’t want to hear that the hot chocolate is ready? When did we outlaw talking about holiday drinks?”
Brad took a step closer and let their shoulders bump, hitting Walker hard enough the other man spun. The snow under his feet shifted and his feet flailed. He landed on his ass in the snow.
Even as he laughed Walker rolled, taking Brad’s feet out from under him, the two of them wrestling like they were children again, out in the schoolyard in those early elementary years.
Of course, the instant they started roughhousing, the kids found it far too entertaining to stay away, piling on top until there was snow down the back of Brad’s collar and Walker had piles of the white stuff on both shoulders.
“Inside to warm up,” Hanna sang out. “Come on, girls. And boys,” she said, smil
ing directly at Brad.
Crissy and the rest of them took off with squeals, pigtails and scarves flying as they slid back into the warmth of the cabin.
Walker held out a hand and Brad grasped it, the two of them leveraging each other to vertical. “Looks as if someone’s made herself at home.”
Brad batted at Walker’s arm, pretending to knock the snow from him. “Don’t you have someone special you’re supposed to be off bothering?”
“I do,” Walker said with a satisfied grin, glancing at Ivy who was bundled up head to toe, her puffy blue coat shining like a bit of sky against the pristine white. “I’m happy for you,” he offered.
“Don’t get too excited,” Brad warned. “Things are going well, but I’m not getting ahead of myself.”
Walker leaned in close, sliding an arm around Brad and patting him firmly on the shoulder. “I hear you, but I think you’re pretty much in a good place. Of course that’s why, since Hanna doesn’t have anyone here to do this on her behalf, I’m just going to warn you now. If you do anything to hurt either one of those girls, Ivy has given me specific instructions to drag you into the arena and tie you under a bull.”
“Women are so bloodthirsty,” Brad complained. “They look innocent, but they’re prone to violence far quicker than we are. Hanna gave my brother a bloody nose. Walloped him with her brush.”
His friend laughed, guiding him toward the cabin. “Good. I like to hear that she can take care of herself.”
Brad did too, but what he really wanted was to be the one caring for her. Not because Hanna was incapable but because something deep inside him longed to care for them both.
They’d set up a fire pit outside the cabin, logs placed around for seating. Walker offered Ivy a sly wink before leading the group in singing Christmas carols. As Hanna settled at his side, Brad wondered how much longer he was going to have to be patient.
When Crissy wandered over, slid into his lap, and rested her head on his chest, Brad found it hard to breathe.
Especially when Hanna glanced upward, her gaze drifting over her daughter and up to his face. She was thinking hard, sort of smiling and sort of not, but when she tucked her mitts under his elbow and leaned her head against his arm, something went pop inside him, as if one of the old-fashioned holiday dinner crackers had gone off. Tightness relaxed as hope swept in.
Across the fire, Walker and Ivy were both smirking, other friends as well looking at them—he, Hanna and Crissy—with approval.
Honest truth, Brad wanted something special for Christmas, but he knew damn well he didn’t always get what he wanted. Wanting something didn’t make it so.
He knew that from a couple years earlier when his mom had gotten sick. It didn’t matter how many Christmas wishes they’d made, she’d still faded from them, leaving his dad alone after so many years together.
It didn’t seem to matter how often he’d wished for his brother to stop fighting and come back home. And it hadn’t changed things at all to wish that his father hadn’t been hurt. Brad was old enough to know that sometimes life didn’t work out the way he wanted.
He glanced down at the woman at his side and at the little girl in his arms, and in spite of knowing the truth, it didn’t change a thing. Sometimes the world was cruel and bad things happened. Sometimes he didn’t get what he wanted. But the things that really mattered—the ones that absolutely had to come true—he’d fight for them, no matter what.
Which was why he was going to do everything he could to make this moment a reality forever.
13
The whole group made it back to Lone Pine before the snow really started coming down. Everyone headed to their vehicles, no excuses needed as they hurried to get off the roads before they became impassable.
“Light fluffy flakes, and they’re still treacherous,” Tansy complained to Hanna, slipping her feet into her boots and getting ready to leave with her sister.
Brad’s phone had gone off a moment earlier, and he was talking in the background, probably being summoned on a call. He joined them, pulling on his jacket and frowning outside at the vehicle the girls had arrived in. “I have to head into town. I’ll give you a ride,” he suggested. “You can pick up your car tomorrow once the plows have been out.”
They accepted his offer, giving Hanna and Patrick hugs before slipping out.
Brad dipped his chin at his father then leaned in and kissed Hanna quickly. “I gotta run.”
She didn’t even have time to be embarrassed that he’d kissed her like that in public. Everyone was scurrying around, and they went from a houseful of people to only her, Patrick and Crissy in less than fifteen minutes.
“I think that’s a new record,” Patrick said when she mentioned it. “But it makes sense. Arriving home before the roads are impassible is a good idea.” He moved slowly as if in pain.
“Can I get you something?” she asked.
Patrick hesitated before offering a reluctant nod. “I wouldn’t have traded being out there for anything, but I’d better take something or I won’t sleep, and I’ll be in worse pain tomorrow.”
She put on the kettle then ran to get the painkiller from his locked bathroom cupboard. Patrick took the medication then settled in front of the fire. He closed his eyes, and as he relaxed, the deep lines of pain on his face eased slightly. Hanna grabbed a knitted throw off the couch and tucked it over him, a sense of connection she hadn’t expected filling her.
Crissy thought Patrick was Santa Claus, and they would have to deal with that at some point. What was true was that the older man had become more than just a casual friend over the past week.
Crissy had vanished the instant her friends had left. Hanna assumed that she’d gone to play with her new toys, only after getting Patrick settled, she went to check and Crissy wasn’t in her room.
Hanna stood quietly, heart pounding as she tried to figure out where her little girl had gone. She checked in her bedroom, both bathrooms, the craft room, and on the off-chance, she even opened the door to Brad’s room.
Nothing there except a neatly made king-size bed.
It was only when Hanna thought to look for boots that she realized Crissy must’ve snuck out to the barn. The girls had been playing with the kittens before the trip up the hill, and Crissy had probably wanted to go say good night to them as well.
She pulled on her coat and made her way out to the cozy shelter, passing stalls for the horses who were happily munching on their late dinner. Even though their company had left in a rush, all the cowboys had paused, taking care of the horses thoroughly before leaving them warm and happy for the night.
She found Crissy sitting cross-legged with the kittens in her lap, her face streaked with tears.
“Sweetie, what’s the matter?” Hanna asked in a panic, checking to see that there were no obvious signs of hurt.
Crissy’s voice was a wobbling cry. “We forgot Blackie.”
Hanna didn’t understand. “You forgot Blackie where?”
Utter misery looked up at her. “We snuck Blackie with us, up to the cabin. He was in my pocket on the trip there. I thought Emma brought him back, but she couldn’t catch him and then she rode with her daddy and I was on the sled, and she couldn’t tell me until we got back and now he’s all alone.”
After the joy of the day, her daughter’s fear and sadness melted Hanna’s heart. “The cabin is warm. Blackie will be okay.”
“But not when it gets cold.” Tears slid down Crissy’s face. She was crying so hard she barely made any noise.
“It’s okay. We’ll find a way to make it okay,” Hanna promised, slipping the kittens from Crissy’s lap and back with their mama before picking up her little girl and heading into the house.
“I want to call Brad,” Crissy whispered. “He’ll make it better.”
But Brad was gone on a fire call. Still, Hanna knew he’d want to be told. “I’ll phone him right away.”
She stood in the mudroom as Crissy raced off, waiting with faint h
ope until the line went to Brad’s voice mail.
Something else had to be done.
Crissy had already informed Patrick what was wrong. The old man had made his way into the kitchen, resting uneasily at the table with concern in his eyes. “I’ll go get the little thing.”
Hanna placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from rising from his chair. “You’ll do no such thing.”
“But Mommy—”
“But Hanna, girl—”
She stilled them both with a stern glance. “This is just as important to me is it is to you, but I’m not about to let Mr. Patrick go do something dangerous. You took enough painkiller to put an elephant to sleep,” she told him sternly. “Exactly how do you think you’re going to get to the cabin and back without hurting yourself?”
He sat back heavily in his chair, one of his canes clattering to the floor, echoing like a gunshot. “Oh. That.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Yes, that.”
Crissy pressed her face against Hanna’s belly, utter misery in her voice as she spoke. “Is Blackie going to die?”
Hanna stroked a hand over her daughter’s head. “Of course not. Only we need to be smart and make an emergency plan. Sometimes we have to move fast, like when Mr. Brad got you out of the fire. But most of the time when something goes wrong, we slow down and think hard so we can make a smart plan. Let’s work on that, okay?”
She pulled out a chair and lifted Crissy into it before slipping to the counter and making cups of hot cocoa. Even though she didn’t want it, she knew the hot drink was a good idea for her as well.
Patrick patted Crissy on the shoulder gently. “Your mom is right. I know that rule, but I kind of forgot.”
Crissy looked up at him before assuring him sweetly, “Worrying about a kitten makes it hard to follow rules.”
“So it does, little missy, so it does.”
Hanna placed herself opposite them, waiting until Crissy took a few deep swallows. Then she laid her hands on the table and listed options. “Brad is gone to work, and while I know he can help us when he gets home, we should make plans in case that doesn’t happen for a while. Patrick, how long do you think the cabin will stay warm enough that Blackie will be fine?”
