Just like those horses, Nana Jo greeted Sarah with a big to-do, her hands flailing wildly and smile beaming brightly from her rocker on the porch. It was far too cold to sit outside in these elements, but Nana Jo ran on boundless enthusiasm and lots of caffeine.
“Sarah Hart!” The woman bracketed her hands around her mouth to shout the salutation as she popped to her feet. “As I live and breathe. Back at the ranch after all this time!”
She bounded down the porch steps two at a time, never mind the snow and ice that threatened to challenge her footing with each stride.
Sarah exited her vehicle and stepped directly into Nana Jo’s waiting embrace.
The woman smelled of apples and carrots, either in the middle of making a stew or treating the animals.
“I’m so glad you agreed to come out today,” Nana Jo said. “It’s been too long, sweetheart.”
Sarah turned and ducked back into the vehicle to unclick Laney’s belt. The toddler fluttered her eyelids softly, stirring out of her slumber like the slow unfurling of the petals on a springtime flower. She gave a big yawn.
“Nana Jo. I don’t think you’ve met my daughter, Laney.”
“That’s where you would be wrong. This little lady and I are well acquainted, now aren’t we Sugarsnap?” She tugged the toes on Laney’s new boots and gave them a wiggle. “I stopped by the shop just yesterday when Lance was on Laney-duty.”
Sarah still had her pride caught in her throat about that, not quite able to choke it down. When Holden had offered to babysit Laney for a few hours, it had never occurred to her that Lance would end up being responsible for her little girl. Of course, she had all the faith in the world in him. She just didn’t want to put him out in that way.
“I even helped pick out these very boots,” Nana Jo explained.
“Which are perfect, by the way. She loves them. Even insisted on sleeping in them last night.”
Nana Jo grinned. “Well, good to hear because that’s actually why I asked you to come to the ranch. I’ve got a pair of cowgirl boots in the barn that I think just might be this little darling’s size. They’re old, of course, like everything around here. I think they belonged to my granddaughter Clara way back in the day. But you know what they say about a good pair of boots—they’ll often outlive you and then some. And in this case, I do believe it’s time we give this particular pair a whole new life.”
It was such a thoughtful gesture, one Sarah couldn’t refuse, even if the thought of her daughter developing an affinity for horses twisted a knot right in the center of her stomach.
“Let’s get on inside and out of this cold. I’ve got some cider on the stove that’s screaming our names. We’ll get those boots once we’re properly warmed up.”
Sarah knew better than to simply take the boots and be on her way, not that she had any desire to leave the farm just yet, anyway. There was a unique magic to the air here, like the enchantment of falling snowflakes sprinkled all around.
Ascending the slippery porch stairs proved perilous with a baby on her hip, and by the time Sarah cautiously made her way into the old farmhouse—several paces behind Nana’s quick step—she was ready to set the toddler on solid ground. Immediately, Laney rushed over to Josephine, arms extended to wrap around the woman’s leg.
“You sure do give mighty good hugs, Sugarsnap.” Nana Jo ruffled Laney’s head of curls with her hand. “Is it okay if she has some apple juice, Mama? I worry the cider might be a touch too hot on that little tongue of hers.”
“Apple juice is her absolute favorite. You’ll be her best friend.”
Sarah unwound her scarf and draped it over the back of a chair in the kitchen nook before settling down onto the wooden seat. It creaked beneath her, the old legs protesting her weight. She watched Nana move about the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets as she danced from task to task. She had the ladle and the mugs, the plastic cup and lid for Laney, and the jug of fresh apple juice. She was quick on her feet and sharp as a tack, except for the miscalculation regarding the number of mugs she would need.
Nana placed three on the kitchen table.
Sarah would have corrected her, but the sound of the front door handle turning seized her attention first.
Maybe the mugsweren’ta miscalculation.
Through the open doorway, she saw Lance step into the foyer and then shake his head like a dog after a bath. Bits of snow that had collected along the collar of his jacket dusted the floor in a fine, white powder.
“Lancelot? Is that you?” Nana Jo poked her head far enough into the hallway to glimpse her grandson making a slushy mess. “You best be wiping all of that up, grandson of mine.”
“Sorry, Nana.” He slipped into the kitchen and planted a kiss on the cheek she already had turned toward him in anticipation of his affection. “I didn’t realize I brought that much in with me.”
Nana’s sternness filtered away instantly. “Oh, it’s alright. It’s just water. It’ll dry.”
After a moment of pleasantries, Lance glanced over and caught Sarah’s gaze, a familiar smile instantly pulling at his lips and crinkling the corners of those sky-blue eyes.
He must have seen her car in the drive because he didn’t look at all surprised to see her sitting in the middle of his grandmother’s kitchen, just genuinely happy.
“Sarah.” He tugged his forest green beanie from his head and balled it up in his hands before attempting to crouch to meet Laney’s eye. He stopped short. Sarah detected the small flinch of pain that crossed his face for a fleeting moment before he took control of his features and replaced it with a smile. He simply patted Laney on the head instead. “Good to see you, sweetheart.”
