“Of course,” I tell her.
She grins and hugs me around the waist and my heart surges with love for this sweet kid of mine.
“Come on over,” Mom calls from the open kitchen. “I’ve got cider on the stove.”
“I need to get over to the lot,” I tell her regretfully. Cider’s my favorite. No wonder it smells like cinnamon in here.
“You can take a thermos with you,” she scolds me. “You need to stay warm and cheered up out there. Besides, I need someone to test out my new gingersnap recipe. Let me wrap some up for you.”
“Fine,” I say in surrender. I can’t resist her cookies and she knows it.
Dad is already putting away groceries with Meg’s help while Mom ladles steaming cider into my old metal thermos.
The back door crashes open and the dog is leaping over the couch, moaning again, by the time my brother Buck appears in the doorway.
He’s as big as I am, and his dirty blond hair hangs almost to his shoulders. He’s got the happiest smile as he crouches to greet Foghorn. He loves to remind me that he’s better looking than I am. I don’t know about that, but he’s definitely more fun-loving.
“Hey,” Buck says, straightening up from the dog with a smile. “Party in here, huh?”
“Not for long,” Mom tells him. “Your brother is going back to the tree lot.”
“I’ll come with you,” Buck offers. “If you can use a hand.”
I’m opening my mouth to turn him down when Meg’s head pops up from the lower cabinet she’s stocking with canned goods.
“You can run the lot while Dad helps Taylor,” she says happily.
“Your uncle worked the farm all day,” I tell Meg. “He doesn’t have to sell trees.”
“Taylor, huh?” Buck asks teasingly, quirking one brow up.
“Oh, that’s Jessie Greer’s niece. I was returning library books today and Maureen mentioned that she’d met her,” Mom says with a twinkle in her eyes. “Said she was adorable, and that she’s going to turn that shop around.”
“Adorable?” Buck echoes. “Interesting. I heard she was single.”
“How could you possibly have heard that?” Mom asks him.
“She’s practically atoddler,” I hear myself growl protectively at the same time.
“Too young for me, huh?” Buck says, grinning at me knowingly. “Then I guess she’swaytoo young for you.”
“She’s got enough on her plate,” I say firmly. “She doesn’t need a bunch of guys sniffing around.”
“Exactly right,” Mom says. “But see what she’s doing next weekend. You should take her to the Christmas Mingle if she doesn’t have plans, Roan.”
“That’s a great idea,” Meg says, before I can argue. “She’ll love it. Do you think she likes to sing?”
I’m in way over my head with my interfering familyright now. And Buck is grinning at me like he’s loving every minute of it.
“I’ve gotta go,” I say firmly.
“Well, take your cookies,” Mom says, holding out a foil-covered packet. When I come close enough to take it, she pulls me close and whispers to me. “I put enough in there to share.”
“Thanks, Ma,” I say, bending to press a kiss to the top of her head.
I remember when she seemed as tall as a giant and used to scoop us up in her arms so we could pretend we were airplanes.
Some things change and some things don’t. She still smells like lilacs and baking spices, and she hugs me as tightly as ever.
