“Five minutes to table!” Walker called from the dining room. His voice carried that note of authority that never quite left him, even on Christmas.
Johanna carried the bowl of steaming potatoes to the table, where chaos was organizing itself into order. Walker stood at the head, directing traffic with subtle nods and gestures. Boone helped his mother into a chair near the end, his hands gentle on her shoulders as he settled her. Leonora’s eyes were clearer today than they had been in weeks, tracking the movement around her with quiet curiosity.
Jonah and River wrestled with an extra leaf for the table, their bickering good-natured as they slotted it into place. Bear set down a stack of plates with surprising delicacy for such large hands. Ghost moved silently around the edges, adjusting chairs to maximize space, while Naomi followed with silverware wrapped in cloth napkins. Jax chased after Oliver, who was attempting to squeeze under the table to reach Tate on the other side.
“Use the door like a person,” Jax said, scooping Oliver up and setting him on his feet. “Go around.”
Oliver giggled and darted away, colliding with Anson, who steadied him with one hand while balancing a pitcher of water in the other. Maggie appeared at Anson’s side, taking the pitcher from him with a smile that made him flush to the roots of his hair.
The table slowly filled as platters and bowls appeared fromthe kitchen. Steam rose from the carved turkey at one end and the glazed ham at the other. Three different types of stuffing sat in mismatched serving dishes—traditional sage and onion, cornbread with jalapeños that River insisted wasn’t too spicy this year, and a wild rice version that Ghost had contributed without comment. Mashed potatoes formed a cloud-like mountain in the center of the table, a well of melting butter pooling at the top.
Johanna took her seat beside Walker, watching as everyone found their places. The chairs didn’t match—they’d collected extras from all over the ranch, even bringing in a few patio chairs to make sure everyone had a seat. The plates were a mix too, their original matching set supplemented over the years with yard sale finds and gifted pieces. But somehow, it all worked together, just like the people gathered around it.
Walker caught her eye, his smile soft and private in the midst of the commotion. His hand found hers under the table, a quick squeeze that said everything they didn’t need words for anymore.
Oliver’s voice cut through the din. “Can we eat now? I’m starving!”
Nessie shot him a look. “We’re waiting for everyone to sit down.”
The last few people found their seats. Walker at the head of the table with Johanna beside him. Boone across from her, Leonora at his side. Jonah next to Johanna, then River, then Bear. Ghost and Naomi sat together, their shoulders touching. Jax settled between Nessie and Oliver, who was practically vibrating with hunger and excitement. Maggie hesitated before taking the seat next to Anson, their arms almost but not quite touching. Lila sat beside Bear, Mariah next to her with Tate on her other side, completing the circle back to Walker.
Plates clattered as food began its journey around the table.Hands reached, passed, served. The room filled with the sounds of “please pass” and “thank you” and “save some for the rest of us, River.” Glasses clinked against serving spoons, forks scraped on plates as portions were transferred.
Johanna watched it all, her chest tight with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. Pride, maybe. Or love. Or simple gratitude that after everything, this was where they had ended up—together, safe, whole. Not perfect, but real.
She picked up her water glass and tapped it gently with her fork. The ringing cut through the noise, heads turning toward her one by one until the table fell quiet.
“Before we eat,” she said, her voice steady despite the sudden flutter of nerves in her stomach, “I’d like us to share one thing we’re grateful for this year.” She looked around the table, taking in the faces watching her—some eager, some cautious, all attentive. “If that’s okay with everyone.”
Nods circled the table. Even River, who normally balked at anything that smacked of therapy, gave a small shrug of agreement.
“I’ll go first,” Naomi offered, setting down her fork. She sat up straighter, her dark eyes serious as she gathered her thoughts. “This year, I’m grateful for the work we’re doing with the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women task force. We helped two women find safety, build new lives.” Her voice remained level, but Johanna could hear the emotion underneath. “We made a difference. And I’m grateful to have found people who understand why that matters.” Her eyes flickered to Ghost, who nodded once, the barest movement.
“I’ll go next,” Maggie said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m grateful for finding this place when I needed somewhere safe.” Her eyes slid to Anson, who was suddenly very interested in the pattern on his plate. “For a community that welcomed me without questions. For a new start.”
Anson looked up then, meeting her gaze for a beat toolong to be casual. He didn’t smile—Anson rarely did—but something passed between them, a current Johanna could feel from across the table.
Oliver’s hand shot up, nearly knocking over his water glass. “Me next! Me next!”
Nessie steadied the glass with practiced ease. “Go ahead.”
“I’m grateful Jax is my dad now and that Tate’s my best friend and that we get to live here with all the dogs and horses!” The words tumbled out in one excited breath. Oliver bounced in his seat, his small face alight with joy. “And I’m grateful for Christmas and presents and pie!”
Laughter rippled around the table. Jax ruffled Oliver’s hair, his expression soft in a way Johanna still wasn’t used to seeing on the former SEAL’s face. The change in him since finding Nessie and Oliver was remarkable—the hard edges worn smooth, the haunted look in his eyes replaced by something close to peace.
“I’ll take it,” Walker said, raising his glass. “To Christmas and presents and pie.”
“And to family,” Johanna added softly.
Walker’s eyes met hers. “To family,” he echoed.
The sharing continued around the table. Lila expressed gratitude for her expanding veterinary practice and the new rehabilitation facility she was building with Bear’s help. Mariah thanked everyone for making Tate feel welcome and safe. Tate, shy but determined, said he was thankful for his mom and for Oliver and for books about space.
Ghost, true to form, simply nodded when his turn came, but his hand found Naomi’s on the table, fingers intertwining in a gesture that spoke volumes. Naomi smiled, leaning into him slightly. Johanna couldn’t help but marvel at the change in him, too—still quiet, still watchful, but no longer completely closed off.
Boone spoke of gratitude for the ranch, for the work theydid, for his mother’s good days. Leonora patted his hand, her eyes clear and focused as she said she was grateful for her son, for his patience, for the way he’d built something good.
River cracked jokes during his turn, but beneath the humor, Johanna heard genuine appreciation for the second chance Valor Ridge had given him. For the space to heal, to find himself beyond his mistakes. For the friends who had become brothers.
