Page 24 of Must Love Mistletoe

Well. “Beth’s been on my mind, as you know. Although, I don’t really know how you know.”

She smiled inscrutably.

“So, yes. I like her. And there’s Sam to think of and Red’s not long in the ground, and we’re going into business with her, and I don’t want to misread the situation, or get it wrong.”

“Honorable. On the other hand, you’ve been sitting on your feelings for that woman for a while, and it seems to me that Beth’s developing feelings for you, too. Proposing marriage…”

“That was a spur-of-the-moment business proposal.”

“Hmm. Not to mention all the baking.”

“She had time on her hands and money in the bank. I think she just felt like baking one day and forgot to stop.”

“All your favorites…”

Honestly, mothers kneweverything.

“How did Dad courtyou?” He had Seth’s example to follow if he wanted to, and before that, Jett’s. As far as he could tell, they’d both relied heavily on charm, being a good catch, and stepping in to help their women out. He was doing the last one—he’d spent half of yesterday realigning Beth’s barn doors so they’d close properly and keep her horses and Sam’s pony warmer come the depths of winter.

Of course, Beth no longer thought of him doing those things as helping her out. He was now taking care of Casey acquisitions. It was getting harder to do chores for her.

When it came to charm, he’d been standing behind the barn door when that had been handed out, and as for being a… what did they call it? A high-value man?

He was hardly that.

People always said he was a chip off the old block—a son writ strongly in his father’s image. Seeing as his father was too dead to ask directly, here he was. “What did Dad do to make you think he was the one? That’s the man I’m going move to Montana for?”

She handed him a box of tinsel and came down off the ladder. “I met your father at a church dance in Louisiana,” she said, her voice soft with remembrance. “He asked for the first dance and the last dance on my card. And then he claimed all the ones in between, and by the end of the night I knew I’d found my man.”

“Sweet, Mom. But not exactlyhelpful. What did he actuallydoin all that time to impress you?”

“Well, it wasn’t his dancing,” she said with a sudden guffaw. “Which is why I made sure all you boys knew how to dance by the time you hit your teens.” She held out her arms to initiate a waltz. “Come on, show me what you got.”

“Mom.”

“Waltz with me, Calvin.”

He was plenty old enough to know what to do with a mom-order disguised as a request. Sighing, he put down the box, took his position, and fell into step.

“We had another name picked out for you before you were born, your father and me. Not even going to mention it, that’s how bad it was. And then when you came along there was something about you that was so wise and watchful and patient, and gentle. We named you after your father’s father, because he had those traits, too. You never got to meet him, but I wish you had. He lived simply and loved deeply. A smile from his wife or his sons could light him up like a Christmas tree. Burned cookies from his new daughter-in-law who hadn’t yet conquered the wood-fired-stove made him beam. To be in his presence was to be grateful that a man so strong and true and fearless in his love existed. Your father had that, too. From the moment we met, he made me think I was the prettiest, cleverest, most fascinating woman in the world and not for one second did he ever let me forget that he was blessed that I chose him above all others. Does that sound so hard?”

“Not exactly.” But Cal wasn’t used to wearing his heart on his sleeve. “Except Red and Beth got married and I wasn’t ever going to take what wasn’t mine, so I’ve been hiding those instincts for a very long time. I don’t have status or charm. I’m not special. And expressing my love doesn’t come easy. What if I’m not enough? What if I’m just a poor second choice.”

“No, Cal.No.Never that.” She put her soft palm to his cheek and made him meet her gaze. “I wish you could look in the mirror and see yourself the way others see you, because you give so much to others, and you don’t even know you’re doing it. I don’t for one second believe that Beth thinks of you as a runner-up. She drew no grand prize the first time ’round. Trust me. You’renotBeth’s second choice. You’re her secondchance.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

*

To Cal, Halloweenhad always been less about trick or treating and more about remembering the faithful departed. Or in some cases, theunfaithfuldead that a person held in their heart, regardless.

For the past three years, he’d been wishing Red alive. Wishing it so that Beth wouldn’t be alone and Sam would have his dad back. Wanting his childhood friend back, because the not knowing was hard on them all.

This year, he had different bones to pick, and a confession to make. One that would square away—in his mind, at least—his actions and values and plans for moving on.

He got back to his cabin as the light began to fade—held up by a lame horse in need of a fresh stall and a poultice. The waft of arnica horse liniment came with him and he headed for the shower, stepping under the stinging, steaming spray to wash the day’s grime away. He dressed afterwards as if he was meeting friends for a drink in a bar. Clean-shaven. Presentable. And then he brushed the snow from three of his deck chairs and the little metal fire dish, threw some tinder and smaller lengths of dry pine in to get the fire started, and went back into the kitchen. Hereturned with leftover stew and three opened beers. One for him, one for his father, and one for Red.

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