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He squeezes my hand. “I know.”
“Thank you for rescuing Sola.” Ever so quietly, I add, “And me.”
He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles and hums Luke Combs as we drive. As we turn into the ranch, we pass Braxton’s house, ablaze with Christmas lights. A blow-up Christmas cowboy dances in the wind in front of it.
We park at Pop’s and walk hand-in-hand, Luna and Sola at our heels, to the barn. Snouts pop over the stalls as we enter. Brooks, Marron, and Wandy, Braxton’s horse, first, followed by Strait and Windrunner. Chevalier, a new addition, is Willa’s. The cream beauty is all dignity and refinement with white eyelashes and a stunning tail. She peers over the stall door.
With no fear and maybe no sense either, Sola runs to her and sits directly in front of her, staring straight up in wonder. Chevalier licks him from snout to nape. Sola spins in a circle and sits again, only to have the mare do the same thing two more times.
“Well, that was fast.” I smile at the duo. Luna and Strait claimed each other and now these two.
We spend a few minutes in the barn only to discover that most of the morning’s tasks have already been completed.
“I guess Kimp would rather you be at home than working.” He extends his palm, and I take it, threading my fingers through his.
We take the well-worn path up to the big house and laugh watching Sola trying to take the stairs to the porch. The determination on his face is obvious. “You can do it, Sola. Think it through.” Once he does, he runs to stand near Luna at Pop’s front door.
A sigh escapes me, and a hand rubs my back between my shoulder blades. “Come on, Darlin’. You can do it too.”
I push open the door, facing the harshness of my first Christmas without Mom, and watch my canine family run inside—Luna to Pop; Sola to the unknown, enthusiastic and brave. In this moment, I remember who I am.
I am not timid.
I don’t play it safe.
I am gutsy.
I am tired of playing small because the world could hurt me. It can. It has. It will again.
And I’m stronger than all of that.
“Merry Christmas, Pop.” I kiss his cheek and wrap him in a hug.
He kisses me on the head and turns to Eli. The sound of him slapping his back echoes through the quiet kitchen. “Merry Christmas, son.”
“Merry Christmas, Kimp.”
Eli grabs two mugs of coffee and meets me in the living room where a fire crackles and the tree is lit.
“And who’s this little fella?” Pop extends a hand to Sola, who’s bouncing like he has springs in his paws.
“This is Sola. He’s a rescue and our newest addition.”
Pop leans down, scoops up the pup and rubs his hand down his spine and back again. “Well, aren’t you just a cutie?”
“Morning. Sorry we’re late.” Emberleigh pushes through the door, bags sliding down her laden arms. “We tried...”
Eli takes what he can from her arms and sets the packages around the tree.
Colt ambles to the threshold and falls to all fours, beginning to crawl to Pop.
Braxton brings up the rear. A glass dish in one hand, coffee mug in the other. “He insisted on doing it himself.” He shakes his head as a proud smile splits his face.
“Pa-Pa.” Colt beelines it for Pop. He hasn’t quite gotten the last “p”. Pop sets down Sola before grabbing Colt and tossing him into the air. Colt twists and turns his body straight down to Sola who drops his chest to the floor and extends his tail straight up, wagging as fast as he can.
“Here we go.” I lean forward and set my coffee mug in the center of the coffee table as far away as I can from Colt’s fingers and Sola’s tongue. “Colt, this is Sola. Be gentle. Sola, Colt will probably be your best friend.”
Braxton returns from the kitchen and drops into one of Pop’s recliners. “Please tell me that’s not his.” He points at the pup licking Colt’s face.
