“You mean like big bad corporate lady coming to town?”
“There’s that.” He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “But you’re not really that big and bad. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
“Still can’t believe it. Thanks for taking all those pictures. If I’d have made Misty stop and pose for all of those, she would’ve killed me.”
“Yeah, figured I could take that one for you.” She followed him into the living room. The house was clean and comfortable. The only personal photos in the room were of Misty and horses. Nothing with Mike and his late wife in them.
“I guess you’re not seeing someone, else they’d have been here tonight. For all this.”
“Yeah. No. I don’t date. Haven’t. Not even once since Olivia died.”
“You said that was a long time ago.”
“It was.” He pushed his palms together. “No one could ever love me like she did. I’m not always that easy to get along with.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Oh, it’s true. I like my way.”
“I can understand that.”
“No one serious in your life either?”
“Nope.”
“Never married?”
“Nope.” She tilted her head. “Someone did almost ask me before I left to come here, but we both knew it wasn’t for the right reasons. It wasn’t love.”
The word “love” seemed to hang there between them.
“Love is the only reason to get married,” Mike said. “You deserve someone special.”
“I never experienced that. Well, not until this small-town guy took me to a parade. Made me chicken stew. Even made me wear some of it.”
“That was an accident.”
“Rescued me from the snow. Maybe it wasn’t in that order. He was nice. I really like being around him. He’s not like anyone I’ve known before.”
“Sounds like the perfect man.” He stood there smiling for a long moment. “I’m glad you’re here.” He rubbed his hands together. “Would you like something to drink?”
“You mean, like water?”
“Or hot chocolate? A glass of wine? I’ve been told I have some very nice wine.”
“Yeah. I’d like that.” She sat down. “Wine would be nice.”
He went to grab a bottle of wine from his stash, and came back carrying two. “I don’t know much about wine. Thought I’d better let you pick.”
She took them both, then tapped her fingernail on the label of one of them. “This one for sure.”
Over a glass of wine, Vanessa listened intently as he talked about Misty and how she’d grown up with the horses, and how he’d gotten started working with the giant Percherons.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about the sponsorship. I noticed it on the side of Santa’s wagon.”
“Porter’s?”
