He’d missed her. He would always miss her.
He sighed and looked out the windows. After college and grad school, a job as an architect back East, and a stint in London, where he’d traveled all over Western and Eastern Europe, he’d returned.
He’d missed Montana. He’d missed his mother’s land. He could feel her out there with him when he rode his horses or hiked or watched sunsets and sunrises. The land was inextricably wound up with his mother, her love, her courage, her devotion to him. She’d loved the land and him. He’d loved the land and her.
They had had so much fun together outside, away from his raving father, hiking through pine trees, cross-country skiing, canoeing in the lake, taking in the view, and watching the wildlife. They’d talked and laughed and sometimes cried.
He felt obligated to regularly check on his ill father, but he could barely stand to be around him for more than an hour. He had his sad suspicions about why his mother never left her husband, and it all had to do with wanting to protect her son from his father, which made Logan catch his breath every time he thought of it.
The sacrifices his mother had made for him…
But Logan had found peace here, and purpose, back in Kalulell. In terms of business, he was swamped. People knew him and trusted him. He had hired employees he knew and trusted. A lot of the people he’d been friends with forever were still here. Many were cousins of Bellini. Some weren’t. There were a lot of O’Donnells running around, though.
Two of his friends from college had moved here, too—Kelson Halloway and Damon Zelder—and started businesses. Montana was heaven. Clear air, clear water, mountains, lakes, rivers, streams for fly-fishing, and solid people.
He was seen as a workaholic, but he wasn’t. He filled his time with work because he hadn’t been able to fill his time with Bellini. When he skied, he found peace in the mountains. Same with hiking and biking. He had a boat he took out on Flathead Lake. Sometimes he went with friends. Sometimes he went alone.
There was only one person he wanted to be with all the time, in the mountains, on forested trails, or on Flathead Lake.
And she had just said goodbye to him.
Again.
He sighed and rubbed his face and blinked as a few hot tears filled his eyes.
Ho ho ho.
He wished Christmas was ho-ho-over.
6
Bellini and Maisie
To: Bellini O’Donnell
From: Maisie Brown
Subject: Roxy Belle is missing
Hello, Bellini,
Greetings from your favorite literary agent! I hope you and the cats are doing well.
Looking forward to seeing the next installment of your Roxy Belle books.
Calm my nerves. Tell me I’ll have it by the end of December.
If I know that book is coming, then I’ll have a Merry Christmas. If not, I’ll be drinking.
Maisie
To: Maisie Brown
From: Bellini O’Donnell
Subject: Merry, Merry Christmas from Roxy Belle
Hi, Maisie,
