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“Then we’re on.” Sarah turned to Tad. “I’ll round up the kids. You meet us at the barn.”
The wind picked up and the snow began to fall. Snow forts went up, ramparts piled high against incoming fire. Will beaned Aunt Jess with a well-packed snowball. Aunt Jess paid him back with a well-placed boot: he tripped over it and went flying, face-first into the snow. Taison chased Uncle Vern in circles around the pond. Sarah watched it all from the top of the hill, hidden from the tumult by a stand of old oaks.
Tad squeezed her shoulder. “Ready to rock?”
Sarah cradled her bucket, piled high with snowballs. She glanced back at Amy, who gave her a nod. “Ready when you are. You kids set to go?”
Will’s twins high-fived. “GonnacreamDad,” said Ann.
“Bury him deep,” agreed Beth.
Tad winked down at West. “How about you?”
West tossed a snowball and caught it, grinning ear to ear.
“We’re good,” Tad confirmed.
Sarah rose and checked the harness stretched across Tad’s chest. It was made for a large goat, but it fit him just fine. Tad lowered his head.
“Okay, get on.”
Sarah got on the sled, and Amy wrapped her arms around her waist. This was it, do or die. “Okay, on three. One…two…three…charge!” The kids took off running, howling like banshees. Tad flung himself after them, headlong down the hill. The sled creaked and jumped, and Sarah laughed out loud.
“Hold on tight,” she called, and then they were flying, plunging down the slope and straight through Will’s fort, the kids kicking snow, Amy and Sarah flinging snowballs. Screams rose. Bodies scattered—Aunt Jess and Uncle Vince, Taison, Suzanna. Through a curtain of white, Sarah saw Will dive for cover. She tugged on Tad’s harness, urging him to give chase. Tad roared and crouched low, hurtling under the pines. Sarah rose up, swaying, pelting Will’s fleeing back till he whirled, indignant.
“That’s cheating! That’s—”
Tad swerved in front of him. The sled rose on its runners, spraying snow in his face, Sarah wobbled and fell, but she tossed her bucket as she went. It arced through the air, high over Will’s head. He looked up just in time to catch a faceful of snow.
“That’s it. You’redead.” Will charged after Sarah. She ran off pell-mell, through the ruins of Will’s snow fort. She hit the frozen pond and skidded, picking up speed. If she could make it to the thicket, she could lose Will in the trees.
Behind her, Will slipped and hit the ice with awhoof.Sarah turned to check on him, and he grabbed her by the boot. He pulled her down next to him, whipped a snowball from his pocket.
“That’s it, Chickadee. Any last words?”
Sarah shrieked and struggled, but Will held her fast. He reared back like a pitcher winding up for a fastball. Sarah shut her eyes tight.
“How about ‘not so fast’?” a deep voice asked.
Sarah gasped. Her eyes flew open, and she saw Tad had arrived. He seized Will by the collar and jammed a snowball down his shirt. Will made a sound Sarah wouldn’t have thought he could make: a high, strangled keening deep in his throat.
“Cold! C-c-cold!” Will shivered and shook, releasing his hold on her.
“Are you coming, or what?” Tad held out his hand. Sarah grabbed it, and he helped her to her feet. They skidded off hand in hand, leaving Will to his outrage. Sarah’s hat flew off and she let it go. The cold wind was bracing, and the snow stung her cheeks. Tad led her past the houses, into the trees, away from the chaos of trampling boots. He spun her around, laughing, and caught her in his arms.
“Pretty good, right?”
“Pretty good? That wasawesome.” She leaned into his arms, into his wiry strength. “Did you see Will’s face? And Uncle Vern?”
“Which one was he?”
“The one who saw us coming and jumped up a tree.” Sarah sagged, weak with laughter. Tad held her upright, drew her flush to his chest. The steam of his breath was warm on her cheek. A shiver ran through her, the sharp, bone-deep kind that had nothing to do with cold. His lips were so close, his green eyes half-closed. She could kiss him if she wanted, and she had an idea he might let her. Might kiss her back, run his fingers through her hair. He smelled of fresh hay and winter, and faintly of mint.
“Sarah?” He leaned a little closer. His stubble grazed her cheek. Their lips brushed, a quick graze, and—
“They’re in here! Get ’em!”
Sarah jumped back. A snowball struck her arm, and another thumped her back. Tad ducked, too late. The aunts had surrounded him and were bombarding him from all sides.
