“Always prepared,” Johanna said, smiling as Lila made her way toward them.
“Thought you might need extra blankets if the power goes out,” Lila called, her breath clouding in front of her.
“Ever the caretaker,” Walker said, taking the blankets from her as she reached the steps. “You know we have blankets, right?”
Lila shrugged, cheeks pink from the cold. “Better to have too many than not enough. And I brought wine, too.” She patted the shopping bag. “That’s not for the horses. Or the sober guys. It’s just for us girls.”
Johanna laughed, holding the door open for her. “Good thing. Could you imagine Tango and River drunk?”
“I shudder to think.”
Through the window, he could see Boone helping his mother settle on the couch, Anson arranging Maggie’s pies on the counter, Ghost and Naomi moving around the kitchen like they’d done this a hundred times before. The house was filling up, warmth and conversation replacing the usual quiet.
A sleek white SUV turned into the drive next, immaculate despite the snowy roads. Mariah, meticulous as always. She pulled up alongside the other vehicles and cut the engine. Even from the porch, Walker could see Tate in the passenger seat, his face buried in a book so thick it looked like it might topple him over.
“There’s Mariah,” Johanna said. “I was starting to worry.”
They watched as Mariah stepped out of the SUV, elegant even in winter boots and a practical coat. She circled to the trunk, popping it open to reveal several neatly wrapped packages. Tate emerged more slowly, reluctantly marking his page before setting the book aside.
X appeared from around the side of the house like he’dbeen waiting, materializing exactly when needed. His jacket was unzipped despite the cold, his easy grin already in place.
“Need a hand with those packages, gorgeous?” he called, striding toward Mariah with that distinctive swagger.
Mariah barely glanced at him. “We’re fine, thank you.”
X’s smile didn’t falter, but Walker saw the slight tightening around his eyes. He stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Just offering to help, darlin’.”
“And I’m declining,” Mariah replied, her voice crisp as the winter air. She handed a couple of packages to Tate, then grabbed the rest herself.
X fell into step beside them anyway, keeping a respectful distance but clearly not giving up so easily. “How’s business at the flower shop, Ms. Duval?”
“Busy,” she said, not breaking stride.
“I bet. Everyone wants something pretty this time of year.”
Walker chuckled, shaking his head at X’s persistence. The man had been orbiting Mariah for months now, drawn to her cool exterior like a moth to flame. Mariah kept her walls high, especially around her son, but Walker had caught the occasional unguarded glance when X wasn’t looking. There was something there, buried deep beneath her careful control.
“Tate!” Oliver’s voice rang out from inside the house, followed by the thunder of small feet. The door burst open, and Oliver charged down the steps, nearly colliding with Mariah in his haste to reach his friend.
Tate’s solemn expression broke into a grin. “Hey! I brought the new Cosmos Chronicles book. It just came out!”
Oliver’s eyes went wide. “No way! Mom said it wasn’t out until next month!”
“Special preorder,” Tate said, his voice lifting with excitement. “I stayed up until midnight to start it.”
The boys headed inside, their heads already bent together over the book, the rest of the world forgotten. X stoodwatching them go, something soft in his expression that he quickly covered when he realized Walker was looking.
A commotion from the direction of the bunkhouse drew Walker’s attention. River emerged, bundled in what looked like three separate coats layered on top of each other. He was already speaking loudly, words carrying across the yard.
“...and that’s why fruitcake should be classified as a weapon of mass destruction, not a Christmas tradition,” he declared to no one in particular.
A distinctive squawk replied, followed by the flapping of wings. General Mayhem stalked across River’s path, his black feathers puffed up to make him look twice his already considerable size. The rooster stopped directly in front of River, wings spread, head bobbing in clear challenge.
“Well, well, well,” River said, crossing his arms. “If it isn’t Colonel KFC himself, here to ruin my day.”
The rooster squawked again, louder this time.
“It’s General to you, son,” Walker called, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.
