Tarr Olson had become herperson—and she hated how easily it had happened. How much she wanted to reach for him sometimes, even when she didn’t need the help. How, when something happened, he was the first person she wanted to call and tell.
She joined him out in the living room, where he barely glanced up from his phone. “Ready?”
“Yes.” She watched him as he stood, his demeanor much calmer and slower than she’d expected for him demanding she spend the holiday with him.
Because he didn’t want her to be alone.
Because he cared, even though he’d literally said he didn’t care what she thought or wanted.
“Let’s go, sweetheart.” The smirk on Tarr’s face—half-satisfied, half-something else entirely—made her want to punch him and kiss him in equal measure.
She had no idea what to do with that, so she simply said, “Okay,” dumbly, and let him put his hand on the small of her back and guide her out of her own home with pure magic sparkling down her spine from his touch.
The Hammond Family Farm looked like something from a greeting card. Soft white lights hung along the wraparound porch. A festive wooden turkey welcomed everyone to the farmhouse. Laughter spilled out the front door as they approached, because someone had already opened it.
Tucker, of course. Briar would recognize his loud laugh anywhere.
Briar hesitated at the bottom step, and Tarr automatically slowed with her, though Tuck said, “Hey, you guys made it,” with his smile as wide as a mile.
Tarr took her hand and dang near pulled her up the steps, laughing as he did. “Hey, brother.” He released her to hug Tuck, and Briar put a smile on her face and did the same.
Wiggins bounded into the house like he belonged there, but Briar let the two cowboys go ahead of her before she followed.
Inside, the warmth hit her like a hug. So did Bobbie Jo, immediately wrapping Briar in an embrace that nearly knocked her sideways. “I’m so glad you came,” Bobbie Jo said, grinning. “We’re just putting out the place cards right now.”
She led her down a hallway, past a formal living room, and into the back of the house. An ornate table had been set with candles, autumn leaves, and more soft lights. Two of Molly’s teenagers squabbled over who should sit where while Molly and Hunter bustled around in the kitchen together.
Things this busy and loud usually overwhelmed her, but today, it didn’t. Deacon nodded at her with a warm smile, and Jane and Cord waved from the couch where they were trying to wrangle their son into a bib. But oh, Clint wasn’t having any of it, which made Briar smile at the adorable baby.
A table positioned against the wall groaned under the weight of the food. Turkey. Rolls. Three kinds of potatoes. Even as she watched, Molly set down a bowl of salad on the end and turned to ask, “Baby, where’s that butter?”
“It’s on the table, Momma,” Lisa said. “The turkeys? Daddy said to put them on the table.”
“They’re on the table,” Hunter said, his grin infectious. He trained it on Briar, wiped his hands on his apron and came toward her. “Howdy, Briar.”
“Hey,” she said, almost cowed by his height and presence. “Thank you so much for having me.”
“I’m glad Tarr convinced you to come.” Hunter shook her hand and turned as his younger kids started to argue over where their older siblings had placed them at the table.
Tarr came to her side and nodded to another woman in the living room. “That’s Alaska Whitby,” he said, his voice low enough to be meant just for her. “She’s a riding instructor here at the farm and didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Another stray, Briar thought, but it comforted her that she wasn’t the only one there. She also noted how Tarr had found out who she was and come to tell her, knowing that she wouldn’t like sitting down to a meal with someone she didn’t know.
She remained on the sidelines, Tarr’s steadiness at her side. She’d forgotten what this felt like. People passing plates. Joking. Teasing. Talking over each other. The scrape of chairs, the clink of silverware, the scent of hot, baked bread.
“We’re ready!” Hunter yelled as he pulled a tray out of the oven. “Molly’s finishing up with the gravy, so it’s time to sit down.”
“Everyone has a place card with their name on it at their spot,” Ryder, Hunter’s oldest, said. “You can trade places if the other person is cool with it.” He exchanged a look with his daddy, who smiled at him like Ryder was made of gold.
What would that feel like?
Briar hadn’t had anyone look at her like that in so long.
Wrong, shouted in her mind, and her eyes migrated to Tarr as he once again took her hand and led her over to the table. Tarr didn’t look at her right now, but he’d definitely looked at her with that soft, loving edge in his eyes that only confused her more than anything.
“You’re here, sweetheart,” he said, pulling out her seat. “I’m right next to you.”
Bobbie Jo sat on her other side, with Tucker next to her. Across from Briar sat Alaska, with Cord and Jane down on this end of the table too, and Deacon and the kids flowing down and around the end of the table where Molly and Hunter sat.
