“It’s never enough,” I add.
She presses her forehead to Griffin’s neck, blinking hard, then turns back to us. “This means…” she starts.
I step forward. “It means you belong here.”
And she does.
She always has.
Chapter fifty-one
Abigail
Outsidethewindows,thesnow has picked up soft but steady, blurring the fencelines and swallowing the last of the pale afternoon light. Inside, the house is warm and busy. Boots by the door, voices overlapping, the clink of plates sounding as the boys move around the dining room setting the table.
Lawson passes by with an armful of dishes, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration like it always is, while Lincoln lines up silverware with quiet precision. Meanwhile, Beau is arguing with Jasper about whether they should use the green napkins or the red plaid. And the thought that a house filled with cowboys has holiday napkins at all, let alone two sets, is enough to make me laugh as I lean against the counter and watch them. My chest is full in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced.
“I’m going to run out to the barn,” I say casually, pushing off the counter.
Four heads turn at once.
Lawson’s gaze flicks to the window, then back to me. It’s fully dark now, snow falling thick enough that you almost can’t seethe barn across the driveway, even with its strands of Christmas lights.
“It’s already comin’ down pretty good, Honey,” he says carefully. “We already did evening checks. They’ll be good until mornin’.”
“I know,” I say, opening the fridge and grabbing the bag of carrots from the vegetable drawer. “I just want to give them a little extra Christmas treat. I won’t be long.”
He studies for a moment, something protective tightening in his jaw.
Stepping closer, I rise onto my toes, urging him forward, and kiss his cheek. His skin warm against my lips. “I’ll be quick,” I promise softly, patting the center of his chest. “I swear.”
His hand comes up automatically, fingers brushing the inside of my wrist. Then, he sighs and lets go. “Don’t wander. And take Luce with you.”
I smile. “Never.”
I pull on my coat and tug my hat down over my ears before calling over my shoulder, “Come on, Luce.”
The cold stings my cheeks as I head toward the barn, boots crunching through the fresh powder while Lucy runs around like she’s in her own winter wonderland.
The barn looms warm and familiar up ahead, light spilling softly from the windows. And when I slide the door open and step inside, the familiar scent makes me smile. One of hay and leather and the horses and… comfort. It’s the smell of a place that’s become my sanctuary. The place that helped me find myself when I was almost positive there was nothing left to be found.
A few horses lift their heads, ears flicking toward me as if they already know I have something for them. “Hey,” I murmur. “How do you guys feel about a Christmas treat?”
A faint whinny sounds from somewhere, and I take that as my answer.
Moving down the aisle, I slowly feed each of them their carrots with Lucy not more than a couple of feet behind me the entire time. Gentle noses brush my palm, and warm breath fogs the air. Atlas nudges my shoulder impatiently, and I can’t help but laugh, rubbing her cheek before moving on.
By the time I reach the far stall, the bag of carrots is nearly empty.
Griffin sticks his head out the moment he hears me approach.
“There you are,” I whisper.
He takes the carrot gently, lips soft against my hand. I rest my forehead against his neck, breathing him in as he chews. “I’m really glad I found you,” I tell him quietly, before a whine sounds down by my feet. I laugh and gently scratch between Lucy’s ears. “You too pretty girl.”
“I think… I think you all saved me more than you know.”
Griffin shifts against me, and my gaze drifts toward the tack hanging nearby.
