Page 102 of Wylder Ranch
“It’s Everly’s footprint. The little store next to The Valentine Cook was making them for Christmas.”
My thumb rubs over the tiny grooves in the penny-sized piece, over each of her toes, and down the sole.
I’m truly speechless. I’m not a great one for receiving presents—I prefer to give them—but these have made their way to the top of my most prized possessions.
“I noticed you always wear the same cuff links with your work shirts. I thought maybe because you didn’t have another pair.”
I don’t tell her I have plenty, but the ones I wear were my dad’s, because it doesn’t matter. He’d have loved being relegated for his granddaughter.
“They’re absolutely perfect.” I lean over and take her mouth with mine. “Thank you.”
My present for her isn’t in the stocking, although there’s still plenty in there. But the one I want to give her is in my bedside drawer. A box similar to the one she gave me.
Carefully, she eases the paper off, taking her time to the point where I’m raring to rip it from her hands and open it myself. But when she finally gets there, her reaction is the same as mine was. “Alex, it’s beautiful.”
Removing it from the velvet casing, I fasten it around her neck. It rests perfectly in the dip at the base of her throat.
A diamond E on a gold pendant.
The stones catch the soft bedside light, and leaning in, I press my lips to her neck. “Youare beautiful. This is nothing but a pretty trinket.”
“Well, I love it all the same.”
I’m about to reply when a sharp cry over the baby monitor cuts our time short. “Okay, we have thirty minutes.”
“Al,pay attention, because we don’t eat until three.”
“Milo, will you fucking stop? Just because this is my first Christmas here in a while doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the process. Animals eat first. That’s always been the rule.”
“Just checking.” Miles winks, slaps me on the shoulder, then nearly bursts my eardrum. “Clementine, move your arse, will you? We’re already behind schedule.”
“Jeez, calm down.” She yawns widely, tying her hair back as she trundles down the stairs deliberately slowly. Her lips curl in a sneer, which she directs straight at Miles, not that he’s paying attention.
Guess she’s still mad about the Christmas card.
Haven’s back is pressed to my chest, my arms wrapped around her, and I can feel her chuckling to herself.
I lean into Hendricks. “Why’s Miles in charge?”
“He was the only one around when Lando asked who’d lead Christmas Day in his absence.”
“Where’s my cousin?”
Haven peers down at Max. “Birgitta is looking after her while we head out. Is that okay?”
His face screws up while he gives it proper consideration, but then shrugs. “Yes. I guess so.”
“Good boy, Maxy.” Hendricks ruffles his head as Miles claps his hands together.
“Okay,” he barks, handing us a piece of paper each. “Here’s a list of all the tasks we need to complete this morning, starting with the horses because they’ll take the longest. By which time we come back for a late breakfast, then we have an hour to change, then it’s presents, then lunch.”
“PRESENTS!”
I peer down at Max. “Didn’t Father Christmas already come?”
“Yes, but he’s only in charge of stockings,” he replies, his head tilted while he schools me on the rules of Christmas and points into the Great Hall. “The tree presents are separate. Look.”
I raise a brow at Hendricks, who responds with an eye roll.
