Page 10 of Mistletoe and Holly

“What’s Uncle Shep doing here? The storm’s already started,” Harper wondered.

“That’s a really good question.” I turned off the truck and handed my keys to her. “Go on inside. I bet he’s out at the stable, and I need to get Mistletoe situated before this storm gets any worse anyway.”

“Can I come with you?” she asked. “I wanna see her too.”

“I know you do, but it’s super slippery already. I don’t want you slipping and falling. But if there’s enough snow on top of the ice tomorrow morning, you can come out and feed her breakfast with me. Sound good?”

She nodded, and I reached into the back to grab her backpack before opening my door and hopping down from the driver’s seat. I slid a little on the icy concrete and had to grab the side of the vehicle to avoid falling on my ass, which just confirmed that I’d made the right call telling Harper to go straight inside.

“Stay in the truck and let me come help you, pumpkin,” I told her. “I almost slipped and fell getting out.”

“Okay,” she murmured. “I hate ice.”

“You and me both, kiddo,” I chuckled as I very carefully walked around to her side of the truck.

“Hey. There’s my two favorite girls,” came the smooth baritone that made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years.

I turned to look at Shephard, who was walking toward us from the direction of the stable. “Hey. What the heck are you doing here in this weather?”

He flashed me a smile that made my insides turn to goo. And as strange as it seemed, just seeing that smile gave me the answers to all the soul-searching I’d been doing since my conversation with my father two nights ago.

I needed to let go of the past. I needed to move on and let myself be happy again. Because my dad was right. Owen wouldn’t have wanted me to stay frozen and holding onto the remnants of the life we’d shared. He would have wanted me to build a new life. To honor his memory by being the best version of myself I could be and raising our daughter to be the amazing woman I knew she’d become.

And I had a chance for all of that, with the man who had risked his safety in this treacherous weather to make sure Harper and I – and even the horse I liked more than most people – could make it through this storm unscathed.

“Found out the battery in the stable’s generator was dead when I was out here yesterday,” he told me. “The store was already closed by the time I got there, so I went back this morning, and as soon as Jules decided to close up shop so we could all get home before the storm hit, I came out here to change it. Can’t have Mistletoe freezing if you lose power, can we?”

I smiled. “Thank you. So much. And you do realize there’s no way I’m letting you drive back home in this mess, right?”

“I’ll be fine,” he tried, but a smile was playing on his lips.

“No, you won’t. I’ll get the spare bedroom set up for you after I go take care of my fur baby.”

“Did you really just call a thousand-pound animal that can run fifty-five miles an hour your fur baby?” he chuckled.

I snickered. “Yes. Yes, I did. She has a coat of fur, and she’s my baby. Therefore, she’s my fur baby.”

“Fair enough. Need any help with her?”

“Nah, I’ve got it. Can you just make sure my human baby gets started on her homework?”

“Mom!” Harper groaned, still sitting in the truck. “I’m not a baby.”

“You’llalwaysbe my baby, even when you’ve got kids of your own. Deal with it. Now, come on. Let’s get you inside.”

“Let me help you down, princess,” Shephard said as he walked over to the open door. “It’s really slippery out here.”

“That’s what Mom said,” she told him as she stepped onto the running board and let him get her down safely.

“Yeah, I almost fell flat on my ass when I got out just now,” I admitted.

“Mom,” she scolded. “Swear jar.”

I chuckled. “I’ll put a dollar in it as soon as I get inside.”

As Shephard and Harper walked toward the house, I headed back to the stable and walked down the empty row of stalls that used to be filled with the horses that Shephard and Owen’s family bred. At the far end, I’d broken down one of the dividers to make a bigger living area for the sweet-dispositioned mare I’d had since I was eighteen years old.

A white-and-gray-flecked head poked out, and if horses could smile, I could have sworn that was what Mistletoe was doing right now.

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