Page 55 of Peaches & Pistols

I know Greyson doesn’t need or want my opinion, nor has he asked. But the way he’s looking at me, waiting, spurs my bravery.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s remarkable the lengths you’ve gone to protect Harper. So many children are exposed to toxic relatives because the parents want to keep the peace. You’ve placed her emotional safety and happiness above all else, and no one can fault you for that.”

His brow furrows deeply, and my insides tense. Did I overstep?

“Thank you,” he says, cutting off my impending apology.

“For what?”

“For validating my experience.” Those rich brown eyes flit across my face, searching.

“Should we load up the girls and get going before the snow gets worse?” I ask, leaning toward his closed bedroom door. The air between us is stifling with things unsaid.

Greyson nods and steps to open the door for me.

“The guys were asking if you were planning on bringing your peppermint bark? You’ve really mastered it.”

His compliment makes me all tingly, or maybe it’s the withdrawals from not having any peppermint bark in the last hour. It’s drugs, I swear.

“About that…” I hedge.

Because there isn’t but a crumb left.

19

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Tears cling to my eyelashes as I try not to full-on sob.

I knew the Andersens would host a lovely Christmas, but what I didn’t expect was for me and Everly to be so organically included.

The morning started when the girls popped their eyes open and raced through the house to see if Santa stopped at Lucky Spurs Ranch.

St. Nick not only stopped, but unloaded his sleigh beneath the decked-out, massive evergreen in the living room.

Everly was showered with gifts and affection. I feel like the Grinch when his heart grows three sizes, witnessing my daughter experience her first magical Christmas. Now here I sit in the semi-circle of people around the dazzling tree, with tears running down my cheeks.

My lap and the carpet surrounding me are covered with gifts. Gifts for me.

An adorable drawing from Harper, which I’ll cherish endlessly. A pair of stunning cowboy boots, a canvas ranch jacket, and new Wranglers from Olivia, Izzy, and Delilah.

Cecelia even made stockings for me and Everly, that overflowed with goodies, tchotchkes, and novelties, hung with care beside the rest of the family’s on the mantle.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Delilah comforts sweetly, sitting in Connor’s lap.

“You’re a part of the ranch and we want you to feel comfortable when you’re here riding,” Izzy adds, nestled between Reid’s outstretched legs.

“I…” The tears overwhelm my ability to speak and Olivia crawls across the half-circle to give me an awkward hug.

“Mama! Why’re you crying? This is the best Christmas EVER!” Everly exclaims.

That little girl’s in hog heaven. She’s stuffed full of Cecelia’s cinnamon rolls, bacon, and eggs, downed two hot chocolates, and is decked out in dress-up clothes and costume jewelry.

If I feel spoiled, it’s nothing compared to my daughter. I didn’t count, but I’d venture a guess she got nearly as many presents as Harper.

“They’re happy tears, baby,” I assure her, the gentle soul that she is. I pat her bottom and shoo her away to play in the den with her bestie.

"If that’s the last of the presents, let’s get this mess cleaned up.” Cecelia motions to Walter who gets up without question.

He returns with a large trash bag that the boys fill with torn wrapping paper, shiny bows, and errant packaging. I help the girls make neat piles of gifts for each person around the tree.