twenty-two
Deacon lay in bed on Christmas morning, the silence around him somehow holier than usual.
Molly had invited him for breakfast, set to start in a half-hour, and to watch the kids open their presents so he wouldn’t be entirely alone on this Christmas Day.
So many texts had been coming in since last night, and he certainly didn’t feel alone. He marveled that technology could connect people across so many miles, and time zones, and boundaries. But it did, and he’d really enjoyed the steady stream of news, travel updates, and well-wishes that had been hitting his device.
On the big group community-family text thread Deacon belonged to, Steele Harris had led them off last night with a beaming, bright picture of him and Hazel Monson, grinning at the camera, her left hand up and showing the giant diamond ring she now wore.
Yep, that was how he’d announced his engagement to his friends and family. And honestly, Deacon didn’t blame him.
His stomach did tighten, though he was happy for Steele. He knew the other cowboy had often struggled with where he fit in the world, in his community, and in his family.
Deacon knew exactly where he belonged, and it was right here on the farm. What he didn’t know was if he’d have to endure this life he really loved alone or not.
After a really great, really friendly date with Alaska, Deacon had decided to take a break from dating. He didn’t ask anyone new out, and while he saw Alaska several times each week, they’d both agreed that the date hadn’t really held any romance for either of them. That actually brought Deacon a lot of relief, as the exchanges between him and Alaska—an employee here on the ranch—weren’t as awkward as they could’ve been.
Mike had sent a picture of West in his new Buzz Lightyear pajamas, and then, only twenty minutes later, Gerty had chimed in that Tag and Opal had gone to the hospital only moments after her water had broken
Deacon was one of those early-to-rise, early-to-bed type of cowboys, and he hadn’t seen any news of the baby since going to bed last night. But this morning, he’d awakened to a whole slew of texts, including one of Tag half-laying in the hospital bed with Opal while she cradled their new infant in her arms.
They’d both been crying, and Deacon sniffled as he looked at the photo now, his own emotions at what a miracle a Christmas baby was catching him a bit off-guard.
Opal likes the name Mary,Tag said.But she thinks it’s real boring, and she always wished she had a nickname, so we decided to name her Marigold Sapphire Crow, and we’re going to call her Mari.
His next text read:But not like ‘Merry Christmas,’ even though she was born on Christmas. And Opal wants me to make sure y’all know that we’re going to have two different celebrations, a birthday for Mari and Christmas every year, and she doesn’t want them combined.
Deacon smiled and added his own congratulations to the text string, both for the engagement and the newborn.
At that point, Gerty, Poppy, Molly, and Gloria started talking about what to do about Christmas dinner. See, Opal and Tag were supposed to be hosting at their house this year for Gerty and Mike, Uncle Wes and Aunt Bree, Tarr Olson and Briar Prescott, and Steele and Hazel. But with Opal in the hospital and unable to cook, Molly had invited anyone who wanted to come to her parents’ to do that, citing that there would be plenty of food.
Anyone can come here too,Gloria said.It’s us and Boone’s family,with Travis, Poppy, and their kids.
Deacon certainly couldn’t help in terms of food prep, unless everyone wanted to eat scrambled eggs and toast for Christmas dinner.
Poppy came on and said,Travis and I are going to take the kids out to Gerty’s and help with the food and do everything that Opal would have done. So we’ll go there instead, okay, Gloria?
That’s totally fine,Gloria said.
That meant Deacon’s dinner party had just been reduced to himself with the Whettsteins—Matt and Gloria and their still-single kids—Boone and Cosette and theirs, and Keith and Lindsay, their baby Nash, and Britt and Lars.
We are not having any more babies born on Christmas, okay?Keith said.Britt, Lars, you hearin’ me?
I’m not due for another three weeks,Britt said.Opal was due in only a few days.
Ten days,Mike had said.Twenty-one is not that many more.
We’re not having any babies on Christmas,Keith said.
His text only reminded Deacon of how protective Keith was of his sister. Britt still worked at Pony Power, though she would be taking leave come the first of the year. Deacon knew she was scared, and she never got more than a few feet away from Cosette or Gloria while she was working. He’d advised all of hiscowboys and cowgirls to keep an eye on her too, just in case she went into labor and needed help while dealing with horses or kids.
Big news for us again, Mike said.My parents are thinking of moving here to Ivory Peaks.
Wow, Hunter said.
That’s amazing, Jane said.They should, since both you and Opal are having babies left and right.
That’s what they said.Mike sent a grinning emoji, and the conversation switched after that toMerry Christmas!andHappy Holidays!and pictures of Christmas trees from various couples and families from around Ivory Peaks. Deacon loved them all, even the tree in Oklahoma that came from Bobbie Jo’s parents’ house and held individual ears of corn that lit up, as if that was an appropriate holiday ornament.
