Page 29 of Must Love Mistletoe

Certain parts of him had begun to soften.

“You could be a Clydesdale,” she murmured, warming to the notion. “Like from the ads. The one who’s best friends with a puppy.”

“Is this your idea of a compliment?” He sounded way too amused.

“A hundred percentyes. A powerful, majestic, gentle giant who never forgets a friend. Let’s not forget the puppy.” Sam had been wanting one forever, but Red had never had one and Beth hadn’t wanted to add to her list of chores. Maybe soon, she could think about the acquisition of puppies. A Christmas gift, or, more cynically, a bribe for when they went to live in Marietta.

Her gaze shifted briefly to the empty chair with a beer in front of it. “I like this Halloween ritual you’ve got going on. What else do you say to your ghosts?”

“I ask them to watch over the people they loved in life.” His arms tightened briefly around her, a reassuring squeeze. “I tell them to rest in peace.”

Chapter Ten

For all thatCal liked snowfall, November had never been his favorite time of year. The days were short and working outside could be painfully cold. Cattle preferred the open-sided barns at this time of year, but with that came cleanup and the provision of fresh bedding hay and feed. Water pipes froze and burst with monotonous regularity. Time slowed. And every Casey in his orbit became somewhat obsessed with preparation for Thanksgiving, and following swiftly on its heels, Christmas.

He had nothing against midwinter celebrations, truly he didn’t.

He wasn’t complaining.

He’d been hoping Beth and Sam might join him this year at the Casey family Thanksgiving dinner. Instead, they were going to Red’s brother’s place up on the Canadian border for a couple of days and detouring through Kalispell on their way back so they could catch up with Beth’s mother and sister. Sam was looking forward to catching up with his cousins.

Cal didn’t begrudge them that. How could he? Family was important. Just because she was going to seethem, didn’t mean Beth intended to neglecthim. She’d been spendingplentyof time with him.

Why, just last night they’d gone out for steak at Gray’s Saloon, and they’d had a great time. He’d been proud to have her on his arm, and he didn’t care who knew it.

He’d seen her to her door with a simple kiss, mindful that they had an audience. He’d waved to Sam who’d been watchingfrom the window and received an awkward wave and a frown from the boy in reply.

Sam had been awkwardly standoffish ever since he and Beth had started dating. Was he jealous that Cal now commanded some of Beth’s attention? Did he think Cal just plain wasn’tgoodenough to step into the role Red had vacated?

The one thing Cal did know was that Sam’s behavior had brought with it a whole new world of worry. Because no matterhowgood Cal and Beth were together, the relationship was doomed if Sam refused to accept him. Calalreadyknew which way Beth would go if she had to choose between new love and her son.

Same direction she was going for Thanksgiving.

Fix it, you big moose. Talk to Sam. Tell him what you’re hoping for. Find out what’s bothering him.

So here he was, Saturday morning, with a bunch of twisted willow for Christmas wreath making in one hand, and a plan to spend a bit of man-to-boy time with Sam and find out what was wrong.

Sam opened the door at Cal’s second knock, it and if his smile wasn’t as welcoming as it usually was, Cal tried not to let it bruise his heart.

“Mo-om, Cal’s here.”

“Is he now?”

He hoped she’d kind of been expecting him. He’d said he’d drop the willow round.

“Coffee’s hot. Bring him through.”

Cal followed Sam down the long hallway with the family photos and the mounted stag’s horns and heavy brown wainscoting. Seth had asked him again last week at the family round table if he had any interest whatsoever in taking possession of Beth’s ranch house. He’d saidno, never, don’t ask me again, and the silence had been deafening.

They’d asked Mason next, and he’d said he’d think about it.

It wasn’t abad-looking ranch by any means, even if it did need maintenance. It was just that the inside had way too much of Beth’s past in it, and Cal was all about moving forward. Not at speed. He practically worshipped at the altar ofslow and steadyas a method of getting ahead. But onward he went.

“Morning, cowboy,” Beth said when she saw him.

She wore loose-fitting jeans, a pale pink long-sleeved T, and her honey-blonde hair had been gathered into a short ponytail and was already showing signs of escape. No hug for him, but her smile was bright and her penny-brown eyes warm and welcoming.

“You brought the willow. And it’s been shaped into circles already. Nice.”

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