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She sniffles as she clutches the map to her chest.
“Will I see you again?” she asks.
I lean back and give her a bright smile. “I’ll give your dad my phone number, and you can video-chat me anytime you want. Deal?”
She grins. “Deal.”
Isaac
Itake a somber little girl up to bed.
“What time do we have to leave?” she asks as I tuck the covers around her tightly.
“Our plane leaves from the Boise Airport at five in the evening. We need to be there two hours before that, and it takes two and a half hours to drive to the airport from here,” I explain.
She furrows her brows as she makes the calculation. “So, if we leave at noon, we’ll be on time.”
I tap the tip of her nose. “Good job, but we have to return the SUV to the rental company too, remember? I think we should say eleven to be on the safe side,” I tell her.
“Eleven. That means we can have breakfast with Alice and Trixie and Willa and Lexie before we leave!” She opens her hand and counts off her new friends on her fingers.
“Yes. If you promise to go right to sleep so we can get up early in the morning and pack.”
She rolls to her side instantly and closes her eyes.
I chuckle. “I’m going out for a bit. If you need anything, Willa and Keller are right downstairs.”
She opens one eye. “Okay, Daddy. Good night.”
I bend and brush her hair from her face and kiss her forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
I quietly grab the keys to the SUV, my coat, and my camera bag before turning off the lamp and closing the door.
Willa meets me at the bottom of the steps.
“Thank you for keeping an ear out for Cobie,” I say.
“It’s not a problem. Annette has the night off, so Keller and I plan to hunker down in the great room so we can check in any late arrivals. Take your time. I’ll peek in on her in a bit.”
“You have my number if you need me?”
She smiles. “Yep. It’s in our system. So, go on and get out of here.”
She shoos me out of the door.
When I make it to the SUV, I glance at the time.
I text Bran to get the address, and once he replies, I throw the SUV in reverse and race to meet him.
I pull into the back of Smitten in the Lake Mistletoe Event Services building to find the roll-up garage door open to the chilly night.
Bran and his father are standing over a metal frame, wearing face shields, sparks dancing around them like fireflies as they operate the welding torch.
I manage to snap a few frames before they notice my presence.
“Hey, Isaac,” Bran greets as he lifts the mask and tugs off his gloves. “This is my dad.”
I walk inside and shake the older version of Bran’s hand.
