Page 34 of Must Love Mistletoe

The calf was small, which in this case was a blessing given heifer wasn’t yet full grown. The calf was weak, but Cal hadn’t left until it had a belly full of mother’s milk and with the assistance of a canvas sling to help it stand and suckle, he’d made it happen. All part of a herdsman’s daily duties, and truth be told, it was the part he loved most.

“Don’t nag because I’m late. The heifer count has just increased by one,” he announced to everyone in the room. A room containing three of his brothers, Maddie, Mardie, his mom, young Claire, and Beth and Sam, too. “Is this a special BBQ?”

“First of December, dude. Christmas lights are up,” Seth offered sagely.

Cal glanced around, becauseclearlythis room was free of them.

“The outside ones,” Jett added, who’d likely been up on the roof all day helping string them in place. “Couldn’t flip the switch before you got here.”

“Well, wecould, but Maddie wouldn’t let us,” Mason said and earned himself a glare from Maddie and another one from—hello—Cara Sefton, Mason’s Achilles heel, who’d just walked into the room from the interior entryway. That explained Mason’s strained grimace. He’d probably been hoping to eat and escape hours ago.

“Let’s go,” he said with a smile for Sam who raced up for a quick hug, then headed outside.

“Did you bring the dogs?” the boy hollered, hollering being okay because he was outside.

Mindful of rules, Cal obligingly stuck his head out the door to yell, “No.”

He’d taken them back to the cabin after the calving. There’d been something in the pup’s eyes, and he still hadn’t done as his mother suggested and taken the animal to the wolf experts, but he intended to. He caught his mother’s eye. Soon.

He stepped out and waited for others to pull coats and gloves on and join him. He waited for Beth who was one of the last to exit, pleasantly surprised when she snaked her arm around his waist. They didn’t normally do too much touching in public. Man, did she make up for it in private.

“Was it one of my heifers?” she asked. “The little one with the white star?”

“Yep.”

“Sorry. That’s even earlier than I was expecting.” She let go of him as they reached the spot where the others had gathered and he missed her warmth and weight and her laugh when they’d tried to fall into step with each other and failed.

And then the Christmas lights came on.

Seth and Maddie’s fancy ranch house that they’d spent a fortune restoring really was a pretty sight with all its twinkling golden lights. They even had a pretty outside Christmas tree dressed up in gold lights and red tinsel. Maddie being Maddie,the whole design had probably started out tasteful. Seth being Seth, overabundance had somehow taken hold.

“Hey, Mom and Cal, look up!” Which he did, but not before noticing that Sam now had a fishing rod in his hand and on the end of a very short straight line above his head danced a mighty clump of mistletoe. And a fairy light or two and a bow.

“School project?” he asked mildly.

“Jett and Seth helped me make it.”

“Family tradition,” Jett said with a grin, andsince when was hanging mistletoe of a fishing rod a family tradition? Didn’t they know Beth was trying to rein in her passion?

And then Cal remembered grimly that one of them did.

“This mistletoe follows you aroundeverywhereuntil you kiss. Do I really have to remind you of this?” Jett continued blithely.

Given that this was no tradition he’d ever heard of, let alone experienced,yes.

He narrowed his eyes and glared first at Jett and then Seth, because there was no doubt in his mind that this was a setup. He’d have glared at his oldest brother too, only Mason had disappeared. All the other faces lit by fairy lights and the moon looked various shades of amused.

“Mom, Cal, c’mon. You have to kiss. It’s the rule.”

He made the mistake of glancing at Beth, and he was a goner. She looked so pretty with her flyaway hair and shyly hopeful smile. “Are you in on this, too?” he murmured, catching her by the waist as she lifted her arms to his shoulders.

“Not exactly, but there’s something I have to tell you when we get a moment alone.”

“A bad something?”

“A very good something.” But he was only half listening.

A peck, he decided. A chaste peck would have to do. He could pretend she was a bucket full of three-day-old fish bait. Puckerup, brush warm, mobile lips that definitely weren’t starting to part for him—think of the salmon!Aa-andretreat.

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