Page 77 of Yuletide Acres

“Well, I’m sweet on him, too. But I wanted to do this myself, as a gift to the town.”

“Poppy, I know you tend toward fierce independence, which I respect. But it takes a village. Come on, we can stop by town hall on the way to the cabin.”

* * *

Marissa tears from my grip as soon as she crosses the threshold of the town hall, making a beeline for Troy. The sheriff scoops her up, swinging her around and earning a giggle of approval.

“Good afternoon, ladies. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you’re looking for Dylan?”

I nod, giving Troy a peck on the cheek. “I’m here to ask about some reindeer.”

Troy’s eyes widen. “No telling what that man has hiding in his office.”

I chuckle and walk past him, toward Dylan’s office. The door is ajar, and I hear him conversing. I recognize Susan’s voice, but I hesitate, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. Then I catch a few words and my ears prick up.

“…maybe she hopes you might change your mind,” Susan states.

“I have rules, Susan. It doesn’t matter how much I like the woman. Rules are rules, and she knew them going in. I have no plan to change my mind.”

I freeze, my blood turning cold in my veins. It’s a coincidence. He isn’t talking about me.

“Will Poppy’s family be coming to Yuletide for the holiday?”

Oh, wonderful. They are talking about me.

“She doesn’t have any family.”

“That’s so sad. She’s such a lovely woman. So…spill it, Dylan. Any chance of you expanding the West clan?”

Dylan’s chuckle carries out to the hallway, but this time it fails to warm me. I hover like a sick voyeur, awaiting his response. But it never comes.

Susan, for her part, is all too happy to keep pressing matters. “I thought you didn’t want any more children. At least that’s what you always said.”

And then, finally, Dylan speaks. “I didn’t, but Poppy wants a child. She has no one, and she’s a wonderful woman. She deserves a child and a chance at a family. And I—”

But I never hear the rest of his sentence as Marissa comes barreling past me, flinging open the door to Dylan’s office. “Daddy!”

“Hey, Cupcake. What are you doing here?” Dylan is on his feet, scooping Marissa into his arms and offering me a surprised look. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

I swallow against the lump in my throat, wishing I had a moment to collect myself. My entire body trembles from the weight of Dylan’s words. He has rules. He won’t change them. He doesn’t want more children. He’s only considering them because he pities my situation.

Dylan’s eyes narrow in concern. “You okay?”

I nod, forcing a smile. “Absolutely. Just a million things running through my brain for the festival.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“I don’t suppose you know where I might find some reindeer round these parts?” I ask, mimicking a southern drawl.

Dylan chuckles, shaking his head. “Not off the top of my head.”

“It really will be easier finding Bigfoot.”

“Sasquatch.”

“What?”

“We call it Sasquatch here, and you’re right. There’s a high probability in these hills.”

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