Page 107 of His Tenth Dance

“You haven’t,” she said. “You won’t.”

He nodded, fully reassured. “Are you going to kiss me then?” He smiled at her, the moment between them tender and meaningful, despite his gentle tease.

“If I must.” Kristie leaned forward and touched her mouth to his. He’d kissed this woman plenty of times in the past several months, but this touch felt new, and different, and exciting.

Fireworks popped through his bloodstream as Mission lost himself in kissing the woman he loved.

thirty-six

Lady’s breathing stayed even beneath her stethoscope, steady in the chill of the late afternoon air. Kristie rested a gloved hand on the mare’s shoulder as she listened, reassured by the rhythm. She stood tall and patient, coat glossy under the fading sun.

“You’re doing great, girl.” Kristie gave her a soft stroke down the side of her neck. “I’m so proud of you.”

She finished her exam and jotted down a note on her tablet, glancing up to see if Mission was on his way across the field toward her. He wasn’t, and he’d always come when she checked on Lady. Usually, by the time she’d packed up her supplies, he’d be leaning against the fence, arms folded, watching with that quiet steadiness that somehow made her feel both safe and seen.

Then he’d carry her cases back to her car, and they’d make the trek from the administration barn across the farm to his cabin.

She glanced toward the tree line. Nothing. Her heartbeat skipped, and she moved to put Lady away properly. Molly would be thrilled that Kristie could now pronounce Lady fully recovered from her summertime injury, and she fed Lady astrawberry candy from her pocket once she had her back in her stall.

She packed her case and backpack of supplies back to her car, and slightly out of breath, she leaned against the bumper of her car and pulled out her phone. She only had a text from Lennie about this month’s dessert night. Still nothing from Mission.

She updated Molly, Hunter, Deacon, and Mission on Lady’s recovery, ending with,So she’s good! I won’t have to come see her again unless any of you have any concerns about anything.

Molly responded instantly with,Thank you so much, Kristie! I am SO grateful!

Both Hunter and Deacon responded too, but Mission had mysteriously gone radio silent. She tapped over to the thread with just the two of them and sent him a text.

I’m done with Lady and walking your way. We’re still on for dinner?

She knew the unpredictability of a farm better than anyone, and perhaps Mission had gotten caught up in something outside of his control. He had promised her breakfast-for-dinner, and her stomach growled as she started along the fence toward the back of the farm.

A slip of nerves moved through her when she thought of Briar getting attacked by a coyote. Thankfully, the woman had been healing really well, at least according to Deacon’s second-hand reports.

The sun had dipped behind the mountains, leaving a rose-gold sky painted with streaks of indigo. The air carried that unmistakable Rocky Mountain scent—pine and hay and a hint of snow not far off. Her boots crunched over the path, each step sending up little puffs of dust that caught the last light.

Kristie pulled her coat tighter. The air nipped at her exposed skin, just briskly enough to remind her she better keep moving.Her mind certainly did, reviewing a conversation they’d had since he’d come to the Stag Hollow Lodge

She’d curled up on his couch with coffee, cookies, and Mission, and they’d talked about what came next. Marriage wasn’t a maybe. It was awhen.

Flowers bloomed in her mind, and Kristie wanted to tell him she’d like to be married in the spring, with mountain wildflowers all around them, the two of them and their closest friends. She’d tell him tonight over bacon and eggs.

Her breath clouded as she made it past the pastures and the equipment shed, and Mission’s cabin came into view. Kristie froze.

The porch light glowed soft and golden. Tiny string lights wound around the railing, warm against the twilight. String lights that hadn’t been there last night. Kristie actually glanced down the road to make sure she hadn’t accidentally wandered onto someone else’s farm.

She looked back at Mission’s house, noting the curl of smoke that came out of the chimney too. That promise of warmth had her moving toward the front porch and those so out-of-place string lights.

She climbed the steps slowly, her heart beginning to tap a faster rhythm. She hadn’t knocked or rung the doorbell here for a while, but tonight, she hesitated for a moment. She gripped the doorknob, then reached up and knocked a couple of times as she twisted.

“Mission?” she asked as she walked inside. The scent of salty bacon meshed with the sweeter, distinct smell of peaches hung in the air, making Kristie pause once again.

She’d walked into the wrong cabin—because this one had been transformed. Candles flickered on the table, three vases of flowers sat on the bar, and someone had hung enormous purple ribbons from the edge of the bar.

Most notably, her three best friends worked in the kitchen with Mission.

He wore an apron—a black number that had his name embroidered on it—and stepped over to the stove, where Lennie pointed to something. None of them seemed to have realized she’d entered the house, and Kristie quickly closed the door behind her.

Then Jocelyn looked over to her. She smiled and turned back to the others without even a wave. Kristie almost felt like she’d arrived too early, and she watched as her friends all said something to Mission.

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