26

The woman huddling on Levi’s back steps could only have been Evie. Her hair, a glorious chestnut brown, billowed in all directions. She ran straight at Reed, and the two of them went down in the snow, a tangle of limbs and wild hair. Levi slogged past them, his steps heavy and deliberate. He kicked a bit of snow at them as he passed. They leapt to their feet and back-tackled him, forcing him into the world’s most awkward hug. When he groaned, they helped him up the steps and into the house.

Loath to break the moment, I turned to go, inwardly quailing at the cold walk across the street, through the cemetery, and up the hill to Pat’s house. I thought I might die of exhaustion. One thing was for sure. I was ready for the longest, hottest shower of my life.

“Morgan.” Levi’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried through the winter hush.

I turned back. He had paused in the doorway, propped up by his sister and his nephew. He had an arm slung across each of their shoulders. Behind him, the lights glowed. It was hard to meet his gaze.

“Join us for breakfast,” Levi said.

“You have to.” Reed gestured for me to hurry.

Evie nodded. “We can’t let you spend Christmas alone.”

I stepped forward through a sudden blur of tears.

Then my phone rang.