“The gang’s all here,” Johanna said.
Walker nodded, oddly grateful for the buffer the boys would provide. “Let’s get the chairs set up.”
They pulled four Adirondack chairs into a loose circlenear the porch steps. Walker added another log to the metal fire pit, sparks rising into the night air as the flames caught.
Boone climbed out of the truck first, Bishop trotting at his heels. The German Shepherd made a beeline for Cowboy, the two dogs greeting each other with sniffs and tail wags.
“Beer’s in the truck,” Boone said, then caught Walker’s look. “Non-alcoholic. Don’t get your panties in a twist. I haven’t fallen off the wagon.”
Jonah followed, carrying a grocery bag. “Got some snacks, too.” He smiled a lot now, and he had a somewhat annoying habit of always looking on the bright side of every situation.
They settled into the chairs, the fire crackling between them. Bishop curled up at Boone’s feet while Cowboy played with a stick he’d found in the snow, occasionally bringing it to Walker as if to remind him they should be playing fetch instead of sitting around talking.
The conversation flowed easily. Plans for the new year: Adding more horses in the spring, and a possible partnership with the VA hospital in Missoula for equine therapy. And speculation about the former sniper, Evander Cole, who would be arriving in less than two weeks.
Walker found himself watching Johanna as she talked, her face animated, her hands gesturing as she described her vision for the therapy program. This was the woman he’d fallen for—passionate, intelligent, committed to healing others. Not the careful stranger she’d been this past week.
The clock on his phone showed 11:40 when Boone stood abruptly. “Alright, I’m calling it a night.”
“It’s not even midnight yet,” Johanna protested.
“Some of us need our beauty sleep.” Boone whistled for Bishop, who rose immediately, stretching his front legs. “Besides, I promised to show Jonah that blueprint for the new dog run before he starts making his fancy spreadsheets tomorrow.”
Jonah looked confused. “You did?”
Boone gave him a hard stare. “Yes. I did. Remember? The blueprint. In the bunkhouse.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Jonah’s face. “Right. That blueprint. I should definitely see that. Tonight. Before midnight.”
Walker barely contained his eye roll. Subtle as a heart attack, these two.
“Well,” Johanna said, clearly seeing through the ruse but playing along. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Boone called over his shoulder as he descended the steps, Bishop at his heels.
Jonah gave them an awkward wave. “Happy New Year. If I don’t see you before midnight. Which I probably won’t. Because of the... blueprint.” He hurried after Boone, nearly tripping on the bottom step.
And then they were gone, leaving Walker and Johanna alone with only Cowboy and the crackling fire for company. The silence stretched between them, no longer comfortable, filled with so many ghosts and unsaid words.
Johanna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t think they were trying to get us alone together, do you?”
Walker snorted and took a sip of his sparkling cider. “Boone’s not known for his subtlety.”
Her laugh was soft, nervous. “No, he’s not.” She shifted in her chair, the wood creaking beneath her. The firelight caught the angles of her face, the curve of her neck. His throat went dry, and he took another long drink of cider, nearly finishing the glass.
“So,” Johanna said, after a long, awkward pause. She looked down at her hands, her gloved fingers tightening around her glass. “About Christmas morning…”
His heart suddenly went all jackhammer against his ribs. Aweek of dancing around each other, and she’d finally said it out loud.
“Yeah,” he managed. “About that.”
She looked up, meeting his eyes directly for the first time in days. “That was...”
“A disaster,” Walker finished for her.
The corner of her mouth twitched. “I was going to say ‘awkward,’ but disaster works too.”
“I think I may have chipped your tooth.”
