Page 41 of Must Love Mistletoe

“So, you’re into woo-woo now, too?”

“Just take it.”

That was the trouble with Mason, all lightning temper and trouble, never wanting to expose his soft underbelly. “Thanks.”

“When are you going to propose?”

“When the time is right, I guess.”

Mason rolled his eyes.

Cal wasn’t deliberately trying to be cryptic or secretive. “For what it’s worth, it’s not going to take me three years.”

*

Cal thought aboutbeing at the Evans’s ranch house to greet Beth and Sam the day they were due to return home. But he didn’twant to crowd them or make it seem as if he’d been utterly miserable without them, so he sat in his mother’s kitchen like a kid serving detention and tried not to look at the clock. Beth had predicted they’d be back by around four—she hadn’t wanted to drive in the dark, and the sun disappeared early this time of year.

“Go and stack a few bales of hay in her barn,” his mother suggested. “She’ll never know you’ve been waiting since sunup for her to arrive.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

His mother smirked and turned her attention back to the giant jigsaw puzzle currently in pieces on the table. He’d thanked her for the ring, hadn’t he? The other day. He’d even offered to pay for it, so he’d stay even when it came to the inheritance stakes. She’d told him to wash his mouth out with soap.

And then there was a knock on his mother’s kitchen door and Beth and Sam stepped in, amidst a flurry of boots coming off and Sam setting his backpack down in front of Cal and hauling out a weathered burl of wood with reverent hands. “Uncle Max helped me get it. It’s from a maple tree. Uncle max says it’s a mistletoe burl. You could make a chandelier out of it.”

“Er.”

Beth was staring at him as if he was a long, cold glass of water and she’d just come in from the desert. “It’s possible, I guess. I’ve never done a chandelier in wood before. He’d never made a chandelier full stop. How did you know I was looking for burl?”

“’Cause you always are. Cowboys are observant, right?” And then Sam hugged him, and Beth hugged and kissed him and, well… well, now that was more like it… and his mother smirked some more.

“Did you miss us?” Beth asked, glancing up at him through lowered lashes, and nowtherewas a look, heavy with promises for later.

“There was plenty to be going on with,” he muttered, which earned a snort from his mother and a flicker of embarrassment from Beth.

Embarrassing Beth just wouldn’t do. What was it his mother had said? That there was nothing wrong with letting the woman of your dreams know that you think they hung the moon.

“But, yes. I missed you like crazy. Both of you.”

It was worth it to see Beth’s smile bloom. And Sam’s.

“Like a Christmas tree,” his mother murmured. “Anyone for soup?

“Oh, no, we couldn’t,” Beth stated. “We just… went to Cal’s first and when he wasn’t there, and we saw his pickup here… and, well.” A rosy blush looked good on her.

“Stay for soup and bread. It’s hardly a feast and there’s more than enough.” His mother was using herno arguingvoice, and Cal waited for them to cave. Savannah Casey had five boys and thirty years of practice when it came to getting her way.

Ask him how he knew.

By the end of the soup, his mother had persuaded Sam he needed to stay with her and sort through her many boxes of Christmas decorations, while Cal and Beth went off to unpack the truck. The Casey tree was to be decorated with only wooden baubles this year. That and red ribbon and patchwork red hearts. Savannah Casey had yet to be introduced to Mason’s wooden spoon additions, but Cal was looking forward to it.

Sam had no idea whathistree was going to be covered in this year, but he was open to inspiration.

Cal and Beth could return in a couple of hours to collect Sam, they were told.No rush. No problem. Take your time.

“You’re sneaky,” he muttered to his angelic mother as he followed Beth out the door, Sam already safely surrounded by boxes full of Christmas decorations.

“You’re welcome.”

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