"Hayes is nice, isn't he?" I murmur, combing my fingers through Grace's hair.
Grace nods with a small smile.
Rubbing her back, I let her down as easily as possible. "It’s too late for us to spend Christmas at the ranch with Hayes this year. Our presents are back at the house, and we’re supposed to go over to Aunt Laura’s house to have Christmas dinner with her and her family. What if we talk to Hayes about coming back to the ranch again soon?”
Grace shrugs, looking a little glum. Seven-year-olds don’t typically appreciate delayed gratification. “Okay. I guess that could work, Mom.”
Tipping her chin up, I say, “I love you, Grace. So much.”
“Love you, too.”
“I’ll finish these dishes. You and your sister put your coats on and head down to the barn. Hayes and Pete said they could use your help feeding the animals.”
Grace scampers off, her face brightening at the mention of the animals.
And I breathe. Maybe for the first time since Kyle died, I take a full, deep inhalation. My lungs contract and expand.
No, our lives will never be the same.
But I feel an optimism within my soul that wasn't there before.
27
Hayes
Now
“Got it. Thanks for the heads-up, man. Bye.”
As I hang up my phone, I let out a sigh. Taking off my cowboy hat, I run my fingers through my hair as I stare out over the pasture. Pete and I just finished giving the horses extra hay and strapping their blankets on them. The next few days had temperatures plummeting, and we needed to prepare the animals.
Kicking the corral fence, I walk back to the main house to deliver the news to Annabelle.
She’s still in the kitchen, which is where I left her hours ago. But by the looks of it now, she’s making dinner instead of Christmassweet treats.
Christmas tunes play from the radio in the kitchen, and she moves her hips to the music. Her cheeks are rosy from the warmth emanating from the dishes simmering on the stove, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes. She looks radiant, but more than that, she looks happy. Relaxed and in her element.
Walking up behind her, I snake my arms around her waist. “Nobody’s around,” I reassure her before she can register a complaint about my display of affection. I nuzzle my nose along the graceful line of her neck. “Smells good in here.”
Annabelle places the spatula on the spoon rest and sinks into my embrace. “Thanks. I have a huge pot roast in the oven and all the accompaniments on the stove. Mashed potatoes, green beans, glazed carrots. Still need to pop the rolls in the oven, though.”
I hadn’t been talking about the food, but that smells good too.
“Damn, baby. You’ve been working hard in here all day.” With a light touch, I lick up the side of her neck before kissing her under her jaw. “Remind me to make it up to you later.”
She turns her head to the side, sending me a smile over her shoulder. But her smile droops when she hears my next words.
“I have some news.”
Could be good news if she goes for my plan, or bad news if she doesn’t.
She swivels in my arms, worry creeping into her voice. “What news?”
“The weather’s taking a turn for the worse. A storm’s blowing through with ice and snow. It’s expected to start late tonight and not let up until after Christmas, so the roads won’t be safe for driving.”
Annabelle groans, rubbing her forehead. “Which means we’ll need to leave tonight if we’re going to make it back to Nashville for Christmas.”
I nod. “Yeah, you will. Nobody’s driving in or out tomorrow.”
