Tanner turned to me, his smile bright and beautiful. Then, without warning, he bent down and scooped up a handful of snow.
"Tanner," I said warningly. "Don't you dare?—"
The snowball hit me square in the chest.
His eyes went wide, like he couldn't believe he'd actually done it. Then he started laughing—big, helpless giggles that made his whole body shake.
"You're going to regret that, bud," I said, grinning as I bent to make my own snowball.
"You have to catch me first!" He took off running, his laughter trailing behind him.
I chased him around the yard, both of us throwing snow and dodging and laughing like kids. At some point, we ended up in a heap in the snow, both of us breathing hard and grinning at each other.
"That was fun," Tanner said, his chest heaving.
"Yeah," I agreed. "It really was."
We lay there for a moment, looking up at the gray sky, comfortable in the quiet.
"Thank you," Tanner said softly. "For this. For knowing I needed to play."
"Anytime, sweet boy." I squeezed his hand through our gloves. "Anytime."
When we finally went inside, frozen and happy, Harlan had hot chocolate waiting just like Corey promised. We shed our wetouter layers and wrapped our hands around warm mugs, sitting close together on the couch.
Tanner pulled out his goldfish crackers again, offering me some. I took a handful, even though I wasn't particularly hungry, because I knew it made him happy to share.
"Best day ever," he murmured, leaning his head on my shoulder.
"Yeah, bud," I said, pressing a kiss to his hair. "Best day ever."
And I meant it. Because watching Tanner learn to play, to be young, to let himself just exist without purpose or productivity—that was worth everything.
That was what I'd been waiting for.
CHAPTER 17
Tanner
Simon had work to do on the ranch, and I understood that, which is why I didn’t begrudge him when I woke up alone. I still felt the absence of his warmth, the empty space in the bed beside me a reminder that the day was starting without him.
On his pillow, though, was something that made me smile.
A Polaroid photo.
I sat up and grabbed it, studying the image. It showed the coffeemaker in the kitchen with a steaming mug beside it. At the bottom of the photo, in a familiar, distinctive handwriting, were the words:Start here.
My heart rate picked up. This was different from the other gifts. This felt like… a game?
I scrambled out of bed, not even bothering to change out of my pajamas. I just threw on my robe and padded downstairs in my slippers.
The kitchen was empty except for Harlan, who was kneading dough at the counter. He looked up when I entered and gave me a knowing smile.
"Morning, Tanner. Coffee's fresh."
"Thanks," I said, moving toward the coffeemaker. Sure enough, there was a mug waiting for me—my favorite one, already prepared with cream and sugar the way I liked it. And beside it, propped against the sugar bowl, was another Polaroid.
This one showed the reading chair in my room. The chair where I’d found my star blanket, where I'd spent hours curled up with my coloring books.
