Page 44 of Deck the Halls with Cowboys
Caleb smirked. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Mase.”
Denver folded his arms over his chest. “Where was the shock with your uncle?”
“Dad, Uncle Mase loves Christmas. Dude has three Christmas trees at his house.”
His eyes slid over to me, seeking confirmation. Denver hadn’t been over to Harm and Mase’s since November. I nodded. “It’s true.”
“Look, before everyone gets downstairs,” Mason started, lifting his chin to his brother, “you think we could talk in private for a minute?”
My body moved. This conversation needed to happen, and it needed to happen now. “Of course!” I chirped, plucking NJ out of Mason’s arms.
He held his hands out, confusion coating his features. “Uh, Val?”
I ignored him, snatching Caleb’s hand. “I’ll just get NJ dressed in our room, okay, honey?” I said, casting a soft look to Denver.
“We can get out of here so you can—”
“No!” I blurted.
Both of them stared at me.
“I—what I mean is, if you’re about to have the conversation I think you’re about to have, then there is no other place to have it than right here. In this room.”
They looked at each other. I watched as the tension vanished from Denver’s frame, a look of realization coming across Mason’s features. “Right,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Take your time. We’ll be downstairs getting breakfast started when you’re done,” I rushed out, dragging Caleb out of the room.
“It wouldn’t be a true Hallow Ranch Christmas without a therapy conversation anyway,” Caleb called over his shoulder, shutting the door.
Once we were on the landing, I turned to face him, blowing out a breath.
Caleb nodded, scanning my face. “Yeah, this conversation is way overdue, Val. Like a decade overdue.”
I popped out my hip and ran a finger through my hair and NJ babbled. “Don’t I freakingknow it,” I mumbled.
“Here, I’ll get NJ dressed if you wanna head downstairs,” he offered.
“No, no! You go downstairs and—”
“If I go down there, I’m opening presents and not waiting on anyone,” he deadpanned.
I handed NJ to him. “Right.”
He smirked and took her outfit before carrying her to his room. As I headed downstairs, the smell of coffee flooded my senses. Denver must’ve set the timed brew last night after carrying me up to bed. I smiled as I hopped off the last stair and practically twirled into the living room. The morning light drenched the space, the tree sparkling even though it wasn’t plugged in. My eyes dropped to the presents from Santa that Denver had set out last night, appreciating the display. He’d taken his time, I could tell. I moved to the fireplace, grabbed a match, and lit it. It took a few minutes, but by the time the wood started to crack and set, the tree was lit and I was nearly done fluffing the pillows. Again.
I took a step back, enjoying the quiet as I turned to face the tree. My eyes closed as I whispered, “Merry Christmas, Momma. I love you so much.” I took a deep breath, letting myself soak in this feeling before opening my eyes and turning to Jane Langston’s rocking chair in the corner. “Merry Christmas, Jane.”
Then I headed into the kitchen to put the cinnamon rolls in the oven.
Chapter Thirteen
Mason
“You going to punch me before this conversation?” my older brother teased, leaning against his daughter’s crib.
My mind went to Micah’s crib, knowing that, in a few hours, our family would know the truth. “Nah,” I drawled, shaking my head. “Once was enough.”
The last time Den and I talked about our childhood, it started off with me clocking his jaw so hard my hand throbbed for over an hour. Of course, that was years ago, and we’d had a lot to unpack. This conversation, however, would be different. When he didn’t say anything else, I added, “I can feel Mom in here.”
