Giant snowflakes floated to the ground outside the cabin’s kitchen window. The intricate patterns, as if designed by elves with magical scissors, that usually would capture Meg’s attention were lost on her this morning. “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” played on the iPod, but the lyrics to “Blue Christmas” seemed more fitting given her mood. December twenty-fifth had arrived with the fanfare of a ship arriving at the wrong port.
The joy of the season had disappeared, scooped up and disposed of like the ashes in the wood stove. If not for the presents under the tree from Santa, she would never think today was Christmas.
Bah-humbug? Not quite.
But Meg wouldn’t mind having a quiet celebration, watching movies and napping. She hadn’t slept well last night, tossing and turning and unable to get comfortable. Now she was too awake to try to sleep more.
With a sigh, she leaned against the counter. Soon Brooklyn would wake, come barreling out of her room and attack the presents under the tree like a puppy looking for a bone. Until then, Meg would enjoy the stillness in the cabin and rely on caffeine to give her energy.
She cradled a steaming mug of coffee with both hands, hoping the heat would take away the chill. Oh, the air temperature was warm enough, but she couldn’t shake the cold inside her body, as if ice water ran through her veins. She knew the reason. The same reason sleep had eluded her during the night.
Ty.
A vice tightened around her heart, squeezing the aching organ with no end in sight. The look on his face last night had been etched on her brain. She wished she could forget. She’d been expecting a kiss, not to have her dreams dashed in an instant.
I like you a lot. Brooklyn, too. But, we should stick to being friends. I’m not looking for an instant family. Sorry.
Sorry. Meg half-laughed. She was sorry Ty felt that way, too. She was hurt and disappointed, no sense lying about her feelings. She wanted it all—her job at the Bar V5, living here at the ranch, Ty. Her heart ached, a jagged pain that rivaled being left alone and pregnant because she’d fallen in love with Ty. The one thing she’d tried desperately not to do. As he’d said last night, best to cut their losses and move on as friends.
Friends.
The word tasted bitter in her mouth. Like biting on aluminum foil.
But she had to accept that and quick. Not unless she wanted to quit. Leaving the Bar V5 wouldn’t be good for Brooklyn.
She wasn’t going to fall apart. Ty had told her the truth before things got more serious. His not wanting a wife and kids had nothing to do with her or Brooklyn. He didn’t want any woman or kids in his life.
Nothing personal.
Rachel had warned Meg. She hadn’t listened. Rather, she hadn’t wanted to listen. She’d allowed herself to get caught up in the romance of planning a Christmas wedding thinking she might be next, and to lose herself in the fantasy of having a fairytale ending like the ones in the princess movies she watched with Brooklyn.
Her fault?
Yes. Meg knew better than to blindly go over the edge without someone holding the other end of the rope to catch her if she fell. She’d fallen for Ty. Fallen hard.
A mistake?
Perhaps. The connection between her and Ty had been unexpected. Unwelcome at times, too. But once she’d decided to take a chance, she hadn’t been disappointed until last night. Ty was still a good guy, and Brooklyn adored him. That wouldn’t change, even if Meg’s bruised heart would take time to heal. By falling for Ty, she’d learned she didn’t have to wait to have a relationship. She could date, not lose focus on Brooklyn, and keep her daughter’s heart safe.
The silver lining? Maybe. Knowing she and Ty would never be more than co-workers and friends sucked. But due to her job and her daughter, Meg had no other choice except to embrace that friendship and stop herself from wanting more. She had to be professional and unemotional, even if her heart wished things could be different.
So what if she could picture her and Ty’s future, their lives entwined, growing older together? He didn’t share that vision. No sense mourning what never was, or never could be. Meg straightened.
Christmas was a day for celebrating the greatest gift of love given to humankind. She wouldn’t let anything spoil the joy of today. Who knew? Maybe this still could turn into their best Christmas ever.
Speaking of which, why wasn’t Brooklyn awake? She’d wanted to stay up and see Santa, but had been asleep before ten last night.
Meg placed her coffee cup on the kitchen counter, then made her way to Brooklyn’s room. The door was ajar. Meg peeked inside. The bed was empty, the covers tossed aside.
Her heart dropped. Air rushed from her lungs. She forced a breath. “Brooklyn.”
No answer.
“Brooklyn,” Meg said louder.
No reply.
Adrenaline flowing, she checked the bathroom.
No sign of her daughter.
Meg checked every closet, under the bed, any place she could think a six-year-old could climb into and fall asleep. With each passing second, her panic rose.
She’s got to be here, if not . . .
The barn.
Brooklyn might be at the barn again.
Running to the front door, Meg’s sock-covered feet slipped on the hardwood floor. She slid, then crashed into the wall. Ouch. That was going to leave a bruise. At least she managed to stay upright. She surveyed the coat rack. Brooklyn’s pink parka and snow boots were missing.
Meg threw on a coat over her pajamas, put on a wool hat, shoved her feet into a pair of boots and tugged on gloves. She opened the door. The snow fell heavier, but she saw small footprints.
If she didn’t find Brooklyn in the barn, Meg would need to search elsewhere. The Bar V5 was so large. She couldn’t do that on her own. She needed help.
Meg needed Ty.
She grabbed the phone from the wall and called the bunkhouse’s landline.
He answered on the first ring. “Merry Christmas.”
“Brooklyn is missing.” The words rushed from Meg’s mouth. “Her coat and boots are gone.”
“The barn?”
“That’s what I’m thinking, but if she’s not there . . . ”
“I’ll have people look elsewhere. With this weather, we don’t want to waste any time.”
Meg tightened her grip on the phone. “Thanks so much.”
“That’s what family is for.”
The Bar 5 is a family. You and Brooklyn are part of that now. His words the night of the tree trimming gave her comfort. “I’m heading to the barn.”
“Be right there.”
“Okay.” An image of Brooklyn formed in Meg’s mind.
Oh, baby, where are you?
A lump burned in her throat. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t lose it. She took a deep breath and another. “We’ll find her, right?”
“Yes,” Ty said with no hesitation. “We will find her.”
He had to find Brooklyn.
In the bunkhouse, Ty tugged on his jacket. His pulse pounded through his veins. Thank goodness, he’d been out to the pasture this morning to move the herd to a sheltered area before the storm hit. Taking time to dress would have held him up longer.
The worry in Meg’s voice clawed at his heart. He hated hearing that frightened tone, because he remembered what being in her shoes felt like. Once had been enough. He didn’t want to go through that again.
Except he was.
With Brooklyn.
Where could she be?
Ty slipped on his boots.
So much for not wanting to be a parent—albeit a surrogate one—again. He was reliving that helplessness he’d felt with Rachel, standing in the eye of a hurricane, not sure when the winds would hit.
He tugged on his gloves.
Brooklyn had better be in the barn. A storm was moving in.
Eli put on his duster over his winter outerwear. “I’m heading to the pasture.”
“Zack’s checking the lodge and yard,” Dustin said. “I’m going to look around the outbuildings.”
“Is there some rule about kids not getting grounded on Christmas?” Eli asked.
“Grounding is an available option three-hundred-and-sixty-five days a year, including birthdays and major holidays. At least, it was for Rachel.” Ty had a feeling Meg would agree. He couldn’t believe Brooklyn had done this again. Sure, she was only six, but she’d been told more than once. And to disappear on Christmas morning . . . that was crazy. “Let’s find Brooklyn first, then we can worry about teaching her a lesson.”
Ty zipped up his coat, then ran out the door toward the barn. The cold stung his lungs. He didn’t slow down. He couldn’t stop until he held Brooklyn in his arms. He followed two sets of footprints, one small and one larger. Must be Brooklyn’s and Meg’s.
The door to the barn was ajar. None of the wranglers would have left the door open. He hurried inside to his office.
A pair of flannel pajama-covered legs wearing snow boots stuck out from the doggy door. He skidded to a stop. “Meg?”
She backed out, giving him a nice view of her butt, until he remembered the reason they were there—Brooklyn.
“Is she in there again?” he asked.
“No.” Meg stood. She brushed the dirt off her hands and knees. “The door was locked, and I didn’t want to wait. Brooklyn’s boot prints lead to the barn so she has to be around her somewhere.”
Ty wanted to kiss away the worry from Meg’s eyes. He fought the urge to hold her in his arms. He couldn’t cross that line, could he? He wanted to with Meg needing support and Brooklyn missing.
“It’s going to be okay. Everyone’s looking for her. At the lodge. In the yard and pastures. We’ll find her.”
Meg crossed her arms over her chest. She wore a jacket, but she had to be cold in those pajama bottoms. “We’d better start searching in here.”
Ty whistled, then called Dusty’s name. He tried again. “Wherever Brooklyn is, I don’t think she’s alone.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yes.” Again Ty was torn, between keeping his distance and wanting to comfort her. He’d tried to tell himself that everything he’d said last night had been for her own good. She didn’t want the same things. He didn’t want to hurt her. But he wished he could take every single word back. “You take the right side of the barn. I’ll look on the left.”
She threw herself into his arms. “Thanks, I needed a hug.”
Ty wanted to keep holding her and kiss her, too, but he knew that wouldn’t help them find Brooklyn. He let go of Meg, then stepped back. “There are lots of nooks and crannies where a kid and dog could hide. Nate and Rachel are checking inside the lodge. The boys are looking around the house and nearby pastures.”
Meg climbed a ladder to the second level. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”
He grabbed the ladder. The thought of anything happening to either Meg or Brooklyn tore his insides apart. “Be careful.”
“I’ve got this. Look somewhere else. I won’t fall.”
Ty knew she’d been a climber. He could see she had this under control, yet he didn’t let go. The thought of Meg falling ranked up there with Brooklyn disappearing. “See if she’s up there.”
Meg rummaged around on the loft area. “I don’t see a sign of her, but the cats look like they’ve been having fun up here.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”
Meg climbed down as if she were walking on a flat sidewalk. “It’s Christmas morning. I can’t believe she’d run off without opening her presents.”
His lips parted. “Her present. Come on.”
Meg followed him into the horse barn. Dusty trotted toward them, a pink mitten in his mouth. She gasped. “That’s Brooklyn’s.” She sounded breathless.
Ty didn’t blame her. His heart beat wildly. He patted the dog. “Good boy, Dusty, where is Brooklyn?”
The dog ran down the aisle, looking back to make sure they were following. Dusty stopped in front of the last stall, the one without a wreath.
“What would she being doing in here?” Meg asked.
“This is where her Christmas present is being kept.”
Ty opened the door. Dusty ran to Brooklyn, who slept against the corner of the stall. Relief flooded him. His eyes stung. Damn hay in the air. “She’s here.”
“Thank goodness.” Meg stood next to him, surprising him by not running to her daughter. She rubbed her face. “I don’t know whether to be happy or angry that she’s sound asleep, as if nothing was going on.”
The chestnut colt rested nearby. The young horse raised his head, as if to dare them to come closer. The two, well three if you counted Dusty, seemed to have bonded in their own way.
“I wonder how she figured out her present,” Ty said. “No one but Nate, Charlie and the wranglers knew about this.”
“What present?” Meg asked.
“The colt.”
Her mouth gaped. “You got Brooklyn a horse?”
“She asked Santa for a horse.”
“She also asked Santa for her dad.”
“Then, it’s a good thing I went with the horse. She got something off her list.”
“A horse,” Meg said. “That’s generous of you.”
Ty shrugged. “Charlie has been working with this little guy. She thought he’d be perfect for Brooklyn. She’ll learn to ride on one of the gentler mares and the basics of training. By the time she’s a competent rider and he’s old enough to be ridden, the two will be a perfect match. And this way, they grow up together.”
“You’ve given Brooklyn a special gift.” Emotion filled Meg’s voice. “Thank you.”
“It’s—”
Her gaze met his. Tears flowed down her face. He reached forward to wipe them away. “You’re crying.”
“Happy tears,” she said. “And maybe a couple sad ones.”
“Meg—”
She looked away. “Don’t mind me.”
“I do.” This woman and her daughter meant more to him than anything. Never say never. He might not want a family, but he had one. Right here. He’d been too caught up in what he thought he wanted, to see what he needed, and was right below his nose. “I’ve been blind.”
“How so?”
“I love you.”
Her startled gaze flew to his. “Excuse me.”
“I love you.” He laughed, as if those were the three easiest words to say in the world. With Meg, they were. “You are an amazing woman, raising your daughter on your own, making a career for yourself, moving back home to have a better life. You’re strong and brave and smart, oh so smart. Even after my dumbass move last night, saying I wanted to be friends, you didn’t lose it or call me out on my stupidity or try to get me to change my mind. You did what was best for Brooklyn. For you. And . . . I love you.”
She stood there speechless.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked.
Meg’s chin lifted. “I love you, too.”
Had she really said the words aloud? Meg’s heart pounded in her chest. No one, not Dusty who lay next to a sleeping Brooklyn, or the colt who looked like he wanted to be left alone, or Ty whose warm smile turned her insides to goo, seemed to have noticed.
“So what do you want to do about this?” he asked.
Okay, he’d heard her. She wished he hadn’t. Not really. But she was . . . scared, afraid things might go wrong as they had the first time she fell in love.
“Are you sure you want to do anything?” she asked him. “I mean, it’s Christmas. Finding Brooklyn. Lots of emotion. Easy to get carried away and forget reality for a moment.”
He took her hand, laced his fingers with hers. “I haven’t forgotten anything. You and Brooklyn are my new reality. I was too afraid—I’m not sure what of—to admit that to myself until now. It was easier to pretend there was nothing between us, than acknowledge I’d fallen for you. But I have. Hard. And that’s not going to change whether it’s Christmas, Fourth of July or Halloween.”
The sincerity in his voice matched the love she saw in his eyes. Her heart danced a jig. But she needed to proceed carefully. She wasn’t the only person she had to consider.
“I was so sad last night,” she admitted. “Trying to rationalize this was for the best when my heart was breaking. This morning seemed like any other day, not Christmas. I barely slept last night.”
He kissed the top of her hand. “I tossed and turned all night, too. I hated hurting you. I’d started wondering if I’d make a mistake. When you called me this morning, I thought I had a chance. As soon as I saw you this morning, I knew I had to try to make things right, but we needed to find Brooklyn first. Now that we have, I don’t want to let either one of you go.”
This felt right, but so had other things. “I don’t want you to, but we need to go slow.”
“Slow?” he asked.
“Take our time. No rush. I’m not going anywhere. Not many places I can go with a horse.”
“That wasn’t the reason—”
“I know. It’s just . . . ” She squeezed Ty’s hand as much to reassure him as herself. “The first time I fell in love I was so young. I jumped in without any thought and took off on a fun, forbidden wild adventure. The future didn’t enter my mind. But now . . . ”
“You have to think about more than just you.”
She nodded.
“I understand,” he said. “Slow is fine. Probably better given the baggage we both carry.”
Her heart swelled with affection for this man. “Thank you.”
“I’m in this for the long haul. For you and Brooklyn.”
Meg stared up at him. “I love you.”
He answered her with a kiss.
His lips pressed against hers, soft, but with a quiet strength. Like Ty. Meg soaked up his warmth, wanting more. Soon, she told herself. Mistletoe was no longer required for kisses, though since it was Christmas, she would take advantage of the tradition. He drew the kiss to a slow end, and as soon as he stepped back, she wished he was still kissing her.
“I didn’t think I could top last Christmas.” He grinned, “But we have.”
“Not bad, since it’s still early in the morning.”
“And presents await.”
She stared up at him. “This one isn’t wrapped, but here you go.”
Meg kissed him firmly on the lips.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
“Mommy?”
She smiled at her daughter, who stretched her arms over her head. “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”
Brooklyn hugged her colt. “Did you see my Christmas present?”
“I did. You must have been a very good girl to get such a special present.”
“I have been, haven’t I, Boss Man?” Brooklyn asked.
“Indeed, Boss Girl,” Ty answered. “But how did you know about your present?”
Brooklyn rubbed the horse’s neck. “Daddy.”
Meg’s mouth gaped. “Who?”
“My daddy told me that I was getting a special present from someone who loves me very much.”
Meg exchanged a glance with Ty. He looked as confused as her. “You shouldn’t have come out here alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. Daddy walked me out here. Made me put on my coat, gloves and boots, too.” She looked around. “He said he couldn’t stay long, but was very glad to finally see me, though he won’t be back again.”
“A dream,” Ty whispered. “She made what she wanted for Christmas come true. She won’t be expecting him back. The subconscious is an amazing thing.”
Meg nodded, but that didn’t take away the chills or goosebumps. She took a step toward Brooklyn. “Well, I’m glad you got to spend a little time with him.”
“Me, too.” Brooklyn tilted her chin. “I look like him.”
“Yes, you do,” Meg agreed.
Brooklyn’s nose crinkled. “He says I’m smart like you.”
Meg nodded. “That, too.”
The colt rubbed against Brooklyn. She giggled. “You are the best horse in the world, Tracer.”
Tracer.
No. This couldn’t be happening. Meg’s knees weakened. She reached for Ty.
“Meg.” He held onto her. “You’re so pale.”
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” Brooklyn asked.
“Tracer.” Meg’s voice cracked. “Where did you come up with the name for your horse?”
“Daddy. I thought his helmet said Tracker, but he told me it was Tracer. I said that would be a good name for my horse. He agreed.”
Brooklyn must have seen a picture of Trace in his climbing helmet somewhere or overheard a story . . . something.
“You okay?” Ty whispered.
“Her father used to write his nickname Tracer across the front of his climbing helmet.”
“She must have seen a picture.”
Yes, that would explain it. Meg hadn’t seen Trace in so long. Who knew if wore the same helmet, or wrote the nickname on a new one? “Brooklyn must have come across a photo album when we moved into the cabin.”
“She wanted to see her dad for Christmas and did in her dreams,” Ty said. “Doesn’t matter if it was real or not, she’s happy. That’s all that matters.”
Meg nodded, but a part of her wished the moment could have been real for both Trace and Brooklyn’s sake. Meg straightened. “What are we doing in the barn? It’s Christmas! Time to see what Santa brought.”
Brooklyn’s bottom lip quivered. “I can’t leave Tracer alone. He’ll be lonely.”
Meg opened her mouth, then promptly closed it. For all she knew, horses got lonely. She looked at Ty for assistance. He was the horse guy.
Ty walked into the stall. “Tracer will be fine on his own. He needs quiet time, and we can visit him later.”
“I love you, Tracer.” Brooklyn looked from the colt to Ty. “I love you, too, Boss Man.”
Meg’s breath caught. She’d never heard Brooklyn say those words to anyone except her.
Ty swooped Brooklyn up into his arms. “I love you, Boss Girl.”
“Thanks for Tracer.” She kissed Ty’s cheek, melting what remained of Meg’s heart. “Mommy said this would be the best Christmas ever.”
Ty took hold of Meg’s hand. “She was correct. Again.”
Meg smiled up at them. She didn’t need any presents or stocking stuffers, eggnog or gingerbread. Mistletoe wasn’t required. “It’s easy to be right when the two of you are all I need for a perfect Christmas.”
Brooklyn beamed. “We’re a family.”
Meg’s gaze met Ty’s. In his eyes, she saw so much, including their future. “Yes, we are.”
The End