Page 75 of Wylder Ranch
But the one that really hits is a little gold photo frameof a boy sitting on a man’s knee. The man looks exactly like a mix of all the boys, and it takes no guessing to know it’s their dad. But the boy? All I see is Everly’s chubby cheeks, her little cupid bow atop her lip, and the dimples her father has now.
Underneath written in a child’s hand are the words Alex and Daddy.
“I love that one too.”
I turn to find Victoria standing next to me, she’s holding two red boxes—one on top of the other. “I have something for you.”
Inside, I find a beautiful crystal bauble etched with snowflakes resting on a velvet cushion.Everlyis written across the middle.
It’s stunning. And I’m speechless.
“The other one is for you too. You’re part of this family now. Not just because you’re Everly’s mother, but because you brought Alex back to us. I can never thank you enough.” Her arms wrap around me, squeezing me tight, hugging me like a mother would.
And I suddenly miss my own mother so profoundly it’s hard to breathe.
I know this much. I’ve never been so emotional decorating a tree before I’ve evenplaceda goddamn bauble. I wish I’d brought tissues.
“Thank you, Victoria. I will treasure these always and so will Everly.” I smile with a sniff.
“Come on, let’s hang them.”
We do, close to where Max is hanging a glittery Santa’s sleigh, who then returns to the table to grab another.
“Daddy? Can you help me with this?” He holds up a little fire engine to Hendricks.
“Sure, buddy, where d’you want to hang it?”
He groans when Max points at a branch sticking out two-thirds of the way up, but follows him up the ladder anyway, helping him to slide it on. It doesn’t feel right for me to place any of the personal ones, even the pink flamingo I spot, so I help with the generic colored baubles.
Everly’s mesmerized by the twinkle lights, sitting in her bouncer, which Alex fetched, while she holds a little giraffe that Max gave her.
“Hey, did you hear Giles MacIntosh is in the hospital?” Clemmie asks, as she passes a particularly garish pink glitter snowflake to Miles halfway up the other ladder.
He turns his nose up but hangs it anyway. “No way, what happened?”
“Broke his leg shifting the cows last week. Had to get it pinned in two places.”
“Ouch. Shit. Is he okay? We should send something.”
“Mum did already, she went to visit.”
I lean over to Alex. “Who are they talking about?”
“Mr. Giles. He runs the Christmas tree pen in the village,” he whispers back, then turns to Clemmie again. “Wait. Who’s running the stall?”
She pauses, looking around until she has our undivided attention. “Story.”
“What’s a story?”
“His daughter. Actually, her name’s Sophie, but we always called her Story because she loves to tell them. Short for Sophie the Storyteller.” Clemmie chuckles and gets a look in her eye like she’s remembering one of them. “She’s a teacher now.”
“Who’s a teacher?” asks Hendricks, stepping back onto the floor and lifting Max off the final three rungs.
I’m expecting someone to answer, but Alex, Miles, and Clementine all stare at each other, clearly not wanting to deliver the news. For some reason, I get the impression that she didn’t realize Hendricks was on the other side of the tree.
“Story,” Miles says eventually.
For a split second, Hendricks looks broken. “Oh.”
