“That’s why I have a favor to ask.”
Hannah looked at her sister.
“You said February,” Claire reminded her. “Not March.”
Holly looked expectantly at both sisters. “Our wedding will be small, but I don’t have time to do anything. My paintings have to be ready by the end of March for my exhibition.”
Hannah frowned. “When you say you don’t have time for anything, do you mean every, single, thing?”
Holly nodded. “Flowers, dresses, food, invitations…there are probably more things I haven’t thought about, but I don’t know what they are. Can you do it?”
Hannah smiled. “What do you think, Claire? Can we create a magical wedding for Holly and Daniel?”
“I don’t know.”
Holly’s smile disappeared.
Hannah was shocked. Out of both of them, Claire was the one who usually said yes without thinking.
Claire looked down at her costume. “There’s only one thing stopping me from saying yes.”
Hannah frowned at her sister. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“If you wear the extra elf costume to the Christmas party, I’ll say yes.”
Holly looked at Claire’s dress, then across at Hannah. “You’ll look beautiful, especially if you’ve got a pair of red high heels.”
Hannah sighed. “Okay. I’ll do it. But if my skirt is more than half an inch shorter than Claire’s, I’m wearing my own dress.”
Holly hugged Hannah tight. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Hannah grumbled. “I haven’t tried on the costume.”
Claire grabbed her hand. “There’s no time like the present. You’ll be amazed at what Holly and I can do.”
Hannah sighed. That was what she was worried about.
***
Brett Forster didn’t often sit with his feet up in front of the fire. But tonight, with the wind howling outside and more snow on its way, there wasn’t anywhere else he wanted to be.
“Did Jackson take a look at the northern boundary?” he asked Thomas, one of the ranch hands.
“All done. Did you get the tractor working?”
“It was easier than I thought. We had a spare set of spark plugs in the garage.”
“Is there anything else you want to know?” Thomas asked around a mouthful of hot beef casserole.
Brett stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Nope. My brain is switching off for the night.”
“I wouldn’t switch it off too fast. There’s a Christmas party in town tonight and you’re the only one who’ll still be here—apart from Mr. McConachie, that is.”
Pat McConachie owned the sprawling Double Circle Ranch. Set in over forty thousand acres, it was an hour’s drive from Bozeman. Eight years ago, Brett had returned to the ranch as its foreman. Since then, his role had grown to cover just about anything that needed to be done.
“Who’s driving?” Brett asked.
“Dave. He swears he’s not going to drink and drive.”
