Page 56 of Yuletide Acres

“Marissa adores Poppy. I’ve never seen that child take to anyone in such a manner. It’s uncanny. Of course, it makes sense. Marissa told me that Merry has been visiting her dreams. She claims Merry sent Poppy here, to take care of the two of you.”

“Poppy told me that Merry visited her in a dream, but she didn’t know Merry was my wife until she arrived in Yuletide Acres.” I chew the inside of my lip. This story is becoming curiouser by the minute. “Maybe they got together and concocted this tale?”

“When would they have done that? Another possibility, Dylan, is that it’s fate.” My mother holds up her hand, halting any arguments. “I know, you don’t believe in destiny. That doesn’t mean destiny doesn’t believe in you. Poppy was your great love and now she’s here, upstairs, curled up with your daughter. That’s a mighty big coincidence.”

I let the whiskey sit in my mouth as my mother’s words swim around my brain. “You think my dead wife sent Poppy here for Marissa and me?”

My mother nods, finishing off her whiskey. “I do, although Poppy thinks Merry has a warped sense of humor, if that’s the case.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Because your reputation precedes you, even to our newest residents.”

“What reputation?”

“That you’re footloose and fancy-free, at least where relationships are concerned. You’ll never marry again, never have any more children. That reputation.”

“I was always on the up and up with every woman. I never led them on. They knew where I stood.”

“Is that also the case for Poppy?”

Damn her for knowing me so well. “Poppy doesn’t believe in marriage. Or children. She loves them, but she never wanted any. Trust me when I say that me being a single dad is a no go for her.”

My mother waves her hands, no doubt frustrated with my cut and dried take on the situation. “So, that’s it then? Your one true love reappears in your life, but you have rules and those rules are non-negotiable. Dylan, I adore you, but you are being so damn stubborn. Just allow the possibility that fate might have something in store for you. Something grand. You deserve grand, Dylan.”

“I agree with your Mom.”

I turn toward the kitchen door, where Poppy stands, looking like a perfect blend of adorable and lip-biting sexy in a short robe. The woman always had remarkable stems. Some things never change. “Were we too loud? We didn’t mean to wake you.”

She fiddles with the door handle, avoiding my gaze. “I didn’t mean to disturb your conversation. I wasn’t certain where I should sleep tonight.”

“I thought you were sleeping with Marissa.”

“I was, but two furry bodyguards have usurped my position.”

“Come in. Have a drink with us.” I motion her into the room, pouring a glass of whiskey and sliding it across the kitchen island. “I spoke with Troy. Your assailant is being transferred back to the state hospital. He has a history of mental illness.”

Poppy releases a slow exhalation, and I watch some of the trepidation slide from her visage. “So, I’m safe?”

I nod, grasping her slight fingers. “I’m going to make sure of it. As long as you’re here, you’re safe. I’ll protect you.”

My mother gives Poppy a hug round the shoulders, smoothing back a few stubborn strands of hair from her face. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Much, thank you.” Poppy sips the whiskey, her eyes lighting up. “Johnny Walker Blue? When did you start drinking this?”

I lean across the bar, letting my fingers trail along the soft skin of her forearm. “Ten years ago. It reminded me of you.”

“Tell me about the festival days. I’ll bet you two had a ton of fun together,” my mother requests, adding a bit more whiskey to her glass.

“It was fun. I don’t think I’d enjoy living out of a van anymore. I love my creature comforts,” Poppy giggles.

I nod in agreement. “Remember that freak storm when we were in the desert? Our tent literally floated away.”

Now her giggle is a full-blown laugh, complete with that beloved snort. “You were chasing after it, yelling at it, as if it would listen to you and obey your commands to cease and desist.”

“Meanwhile, you were atop this garbage can, yelling at the storm gods to cooperate.”

Poppy holds up her glass, sending me a smirk. “Hey, the storm stopped five minutes later. I’m just saying, I know a guy.” Her smile fades, replaced with a wistful longing. “I didn’t think that you’d remember.”

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