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She waited, nerves jangling as she anticipated her sister’s reaction. Holly did not disappoint.

“Are you kidding me?”

The antagonism in her sister’s voice both amused and touched her. Holly could seem mild mannered most of the time but she became a lioness when it came to protecting the people she loved.

“Wes? Seriously? You could have found a dozen other people willing to help. Dad would come in a heartbeat and so would Asher or Micah.”

“Dad is busy helping Mom smoke the turkey tonight and Ash and Micah both are busy until Saturday. I already asked.”

“Why Wes?”

“You know Stanley. He’s a hard man to resist when he sets his mind to something.”

Just like his grandson had been.

She sighed. “I’ll be fine, Holly. Why wouldn’t I be? Stanley will be here as a charming, well-dressed buffer.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Wes means absolutely nothing to me anymore.”

If she repeated it enough times, maybe she would even start to believe it.

The doorbell rang and she drew in a shaky breath.

“I’ve got to go,” she said into the phone. “They’re here.”

Holly swore under her breath, something completely out of character for her calm sister. “Call me later tonight. I’ll be up. I’m working on the flowers for the Bennett wedding next weekend.”

She agreed and disconnected the call. After taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Wes stood on the porch, his rugged features softened by the dim porch light. Those familiar green eyes, flecked with gold, met hers, and suddenly the years melted away.

He filled the doorframe with his broad shoulders, bringing with him the crisp scent of winter and pine. At his side, his striking dog sat obediently, intelligent eyes watchful despite an obvious injury.

The sight of Wes resting a protective hand on the dog’s head stirred something deep within her. A rush of memories, both sweet and painful, flooded through her. In that moment, as snow fell softly beyond the shelter of the porch, Hannah realized with a bittersweet ache that she had missed him far more deeply than she had ever allowed herself to admit.

She looked over his shoulder and saw, to her dismay, no sign of his grandfather.

“Where is Stanley?”

Wes cleared his throat. “Funny thing. He’s been perfectly fine all evening but as soon as we returned to the Shelter Inn, Pop claimed his bad knee was acting up and he should probably stay off it. He, of course, insisted I still come help you. He had promised you, after all, and he didn’t want to let you down.”

She gaped, trying to make sense of this turn of events. “You don’t seem like you believe him. Does he really have a bad knee?”

“Who knows? He does need a knee replacement sometime in the next few months. But still. Earlier this evening, he was telling me all about how much fun he had square dancing at the Shelter Inn today and didn’t mention a word about his knee hurting.”

Panic clutched her insides. She did not want to spend even ten minutes alone with Wes. “You don’t have to help me. I can grab my brothers this weekend. For that matter, Carter can sleep on the mattress I have for him for a night or two, if it comes to that.”

He studied her and she wondered how much of her nerves he could sense. “I’m here. I might as well take care of what I came to do. I’m sure it won’t take long.”

She wanted to slam the door and leave him and his dog out on her front porch. But the dog looked at her out of those mournful big eyes and she didn’t quite have the heart. Before she could talk herself out of it, she held the door open for both of them. Wes seemed a little surprised, as if he had fully expected her to refuse his help. After a moment, he followed her inside.

She turned her attention to the dog, kneeling to his level. “Hi, Kodiak,” she murmured.

He licked at her outstretched hand and she saw his tail wag slightly. He was obviously in pain, poor thing.

“How’s he doing?” she asked.

Wes shrugged. “Every day he’s a little stronger but he has a long way to go.”