Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
I decided Blair was right, and I was being paranoid. So what if he occasionally seemed a little broody? So what if he didn’t tell me everything that was on his mind? So what if he needed some time to realize that there was no dragon waiting to snatch his happiness away?
What mattered was that I was the one he’d been willing to fight for. That we were together now. That when he looked into his future, he saw me. Us. A family.
I would continue to show him patience, love, and understanding.
I wanted him to feel safe with me.
Twenty-Five
Cole
“Mariah, come on,” I complained Saturday night. “You’ve been sitting between us all day.”
I’d had the day off, and we’d taken Mariah over to a neighboring farm, which offered horse-drawn sleigh rides. She’d wanted to sit between us in the sled, and we’d said of course, the three of us cuddling up beneath a thick wool blanket. Afterward, we’d returned to town for an early supper, and Mariah had requested to sit at the counter of the Bellamy Creek Diner. We’d laughed when she insisted on the counter stool in between us. Back at our house, we were going to watch The Grinch, and once again, she was claiming the couch real estate between us.
“So what?” she asked.
“So I get to sit next to Cheyenne now.” I got her in a gentle headlock and pretended to strangle her.
Mariah squirmed and giggled, tugging at my arms. “No!”
“How about if I paint your nails while we watch, Mariah?” Cheyenne suggested.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go get the polish.”
I dropped my arms, and Mariah darted upstairs. “You know,” I said, getting Cheyenne in a headlock this time, “that didn’t solve the problem.”
“What problem?” she asked, laughing as I squeezed her.
“That I want to be next to you for once. She’s hogging you.” I loosened my grip, and she turned to face me, twining her arms around my waist.
“It’s cute. I don’t mind.”
“I do,” I said gruffly.
“Listen. I feel really lucky that she’s happy about us. I want her to feel included. If it means letting her sit between us, I’m okay with it. It won’t be forever. Soon she’ll be a teenager and she won’t want anything to do with us.”
Groaning, I kissed her temple. “I can’t think about that. I’m going to throw some popcorn in the microwave and grab a beer. Want something to drink?”
“No thanks.”
I went into the kitchen, got the popcorn going, and uncapped a beer. While I waited for the microwave to go off, I listened to Mariah and Cheyenne chatter in the next room. My mom was visiting her sister in Gaylord this weekend, so it was just the three of us.
This is how it would be at the new house if she lived with us, I thought. The three of us home on a snowy Saturday night, Christmas just days away, a perfect winter afternoon behind us. A brand new year ahead of us. It was comfortable, easy, intimate.
So why couldn’t I shake the uneasy feeling that it couldn’t last?
Stop it, I told myself, lifting my beer to my lips. I was determined not to let negative thoughts distract me tonight. More than once Cheyenne had caught me brooding silently over the last week, and I always said it was nothing. I didn’t want her to worry, and sooner or later this stupid nagging fear would loosen its grip on me, wouldn’t it? I just had to tough it out.
“So which color?” I heard Mariah ask from the next room.
“Hmm. I like the darker one,” Cheyenne replied. “More dramatic for Christmas Eve. Think you can make it last until Thursday night?”
“I’ll try,” Mariah said.
Then I heard clicking noises, as if Cheyenne were shaking the polish. “Are you excited for Santa to come?”
“Yes,” Mariah said. “I’m still hoping for a puppy. Daddy says he doesn’t bring animals, but Avery Frankel in my class said that’s a lie because she got a rabbit from Santa last year.”
Cheyenne laughed. “Well . . . good luck.”
“What did you ask him for?”
“A winning lottery ticket.”
“Why?”
“So that I can move out of my mother’s house and get a place of my own,” Cheyenne said, her voice determined. “And rescue a dog.”
“You could move in with us,” Mariah suggested. “Then we could share the dog!”
Cheyenne laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but I think you and your dad should make that house all your own.”
“But it’s big enough for you too,” Mariah insisted. “You could even have your own room.”
That made me smile—as if I’d let her sleep anywhere but next to me.
“You’re sweet,” Cheyenne told her. “And I promise to come visit you a lot, how’s that?”
A loud sigh from my daughter. “I guess that’s good.” Then her tone brightened. “Hey, maybe you could buy the house next door!”