“I’m happy for you, mana.” As Jordan and Cole headed to the dance floor, Luis settled back in his chair with a sigh of contentment. “This thing with Cole seems right.”
“It feels right.” Mila gazed at him. “Like it was supposed to be.”
“Funny how it worked out. If Jordan had been willing to date me when I attended that clinic with her five years ago, you still might have met her brother.”
“But we weren’t the same people five years ago. We might not have clicked.”
“But they both would’ve met Dad.”
“Yeah. I hate that they didn’t get to.”
“And he didn’t get to meet them.” He fell silent. “Or Liberty.”
Pain sliced into her heart. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.” He dragged in a breath. “It really bothered me, but you and Cole getting together helps. It helps a lot.”
“I’m glad, but I don’t see why?—”
“If Dad hadn’t died, we wouldn’t have needed to hire Cole.”
“Huh. I guess not.”
“I’m not saying the four of us wouldn’t have ended up here, but?—”
“I don’t think we would have. Change one thing and everything changes.”
“Exactly.” Luis’s attention shifted to the dance floor. “They look cute out there. We’re supposed to be watching so we’d better do that.”
“We should.”
“Jordan said they took lessons together during the time she shared his apartment. They’re really close.”
“They are. I like that.” The rush of excitement over the baby news was fading, giving her more perspective on Cole’s mood. He’d been excited, too, but thinking back on it, he’d also looked vaguely uneasy about this turn of events.
Then Jordan had asked him to dance. Mila would bet her share of the family Yule log that Jordan had wanted to check on him. They weren’t having a barrel of laughs during that two-step, which indicated a discussion could be taking place.
It might be a sister-brother thing that had nothing to do with her. But what if her joyful response to the baby news had given the impression she couldn’t wait to have her own? Wouldn’t hurt to set the record straight.
She wouldn’t get the chance anytime soon, though. As soon as Cole and Jordan returned to the table, they had company. Sam, the band’s lead guitarist, appeared armed with sheet music in hand.
He and Cole went into a huddle while they discussed it. Then Sam returned to the bandstand, stepped up to the mic and faced the crowd. “Who’s ready for some top-notch fiddle playing?”
The enthusiastic response put a smile on Cole’s face that was beautiful to see. The lines of tension around his eyes disappeared as he rose to his feet and headed to the bandstand accompanied by eager applause.
While he pulled his fiddle from its case, Sam set up a metal stand for the sheet music. Mila’s assumption that Cole only played by ear was dead wrong. He’d put more into this endeavor than he’d let on.
She shouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t the type to do anything halfway. Taking a pair of reading glasses from his fiddle case, he scanned the music, then tucked the glasses away.
Mila glanced at Jordan. “Does he have a photographic memory?”
“Pretty much. I think he had the tendency and built on it because he hates wearing glasses, especially when he’s playing.”
Sam adjusted his guitar strap over his shoulder and moved up to the mic again. “You’re welcome to dance to this, folks, but it might be tricky. I suggest just sitting back and giving us a listen.” He glanced at Cole. “Ready, buddy?”
“Let’s do it.”
“Then here’s our version of Carol of the Bells.”
