by Liz Isaacson
You like her too, he thought as he opened his eyes to the brightness of the snow. And he did. He liked her a whole lot.
“Stockton wants to go snowshoeing later. You want to come?”
“Of course.” Meg turned toward the lodge and dropped her hand to his again. “But I need to eat first.”
“Oh, that’s right. Sleeping Beauty didn’t eat breakfast yet.” He chuckled and bumped her with his hip.
“Oh my goodness. My mother.” She wore a panicked expression Eli wanted to soothe. “Where’s my mother?”
“She was still sleeping too,” Eli said. “Guess it runs in the family.”
Meg increased her pace, and Eli went with her, the distinct thought that she’d been following him around all these years but that he was pretty sure he’d go wherever she wanted him to at this point.
He really wanted her to open his Christmas gift so he could see her face. And he hadn’t opened her present yet either, and he was dying to know what was in the slim box he knew had come from her because of the big black M scrawled on the paper.
He hadn’t exactly saved it for last, but they really hadn’t finished opening their presents before they’d all taken a trip out to the stables.
In the lodge, he stripped off his coat and kicked off his boots. Meg had bundled up with a hat, scarf, boots, and a coat, so she took a little longer than him. He waited just outside the mudroom, not wanting her to escape to check on her mom before they finished the gifts.
He glanced into the kitchen, where his mom had just finished scooping a serving of French toast casserole for Stockton. “Your mom’s in here,” he said, nodding toward the kitchen.
Meg joined him at the corner of the wall, and he should’ve stepped back. But he wanted her in his personal space, and she tensed as she checked on her mother, who sat at the bar beside Stockton with only eggs on her plate.
His mom turned and smiled at them. “There’s plenty left to eat,” she said.
“We’re going to finish the presents first.” Eli smiled and laced his fingers through Meg’s.
His mother catalogued the motion and her eyes flicked up. “Oh, watch out, hon. You’re standing in a delicate place.” She pointed up, and Eli followed her finger to see that blasted mistletoe taped crudely to the arch leading into the mudroom.
Heat filled him, and he was eternally glad he’d kissed her somewhere else for the first time. He wouldn’t want that first kiss to be a show. Not that his mother would make him kiss Meg just because they stood under a weed.
“Come on.” Eli tugged Meg past the kitchen and into the foyer on the other side of the wall. “You open mine first.” He picked up the box, his anticipation practically eating him from the inside out.
She took the box and shook it, but it didn’t make a sound, and she narrowed her eyes. “This feels like it doesn’t have anything in it.”
“Well, it does.” Eli’s nerves felt like he’d put them through a woodchipper, not that he’d actually used one of those before.
Meg gave him a sexy, coy look as she ripped off the paper. She focused on her task as she opened the box and pulled out the few pages he’d stapled together. Her eyes held anxiety as she read, as she made sense of what she was seeing.
Her eyes came to his, wide and surprised. “These are tickets to Disneyland.”
“That’s right.” Eli grinned at her. “You must’ve told me a hundred times that you’ve never been.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “So now you can go.”
She examined the pages again. “There are three tickets here.”
Eli swallowed, his throat so, so dry. He was probably being too presumptuous. Too forward. Too…something. “Uh, yeah.” He rocked back on his heels. “I thought the three of us could go. Sort of a vacation when we get sick of the snow.” He shrugged like it was no big deal to him, but honestly, it was. He’d been to Disneyland—had season tickets when he and Caroline lived in California.
He took a couple of steps toward Meg and said, “I haven’t been back to California since….” He swallowed again, wondering if he was developing some sort of medical condition. “Since Caroline died.”
Meg looked at him again. “Oh, Eli.” She reached out and cradled his face. “Thank you. I’m so excited to go, and Stockton will love it.” She beamed at him with adoration he wasn’t sure he deserved. She blinked and said, “Okay, open mine.”
He noticed she kept a tight grip on the tickets as she bent to pick up the box he’d left behind.
“It’s dumb,” she said. “You buy whatever you want. But—” She shrugged. “It’s the thought that counts, right?” She practically thrust the box at him, and Eli took it from her, glad his gift had been well-received.
He shook her gift too, laughing when she rolled her eyes. It looked like a tie box he’d get from an expensive men’s wear store. And that’s what it was. He met her eye, wondering if she’d really bought him a tie. He hoped not. It felt…impersonal.
He opened the tie box and pulled out a tie, but not the kind he wore around his neck. This one had been handcrafted out of gift cards.
“So that’s to The Devil’s Tower,” she said, pointing as if he’d suddenly turned illiterate and couldn’t read. “I know you like their food. And one to that drink place you drive through every time you go to town. And one for that cookie place that’ll deliver.”
Some of the cards had been trimmed so they all fit into the shape of a tie, and Eli held it up to his throat, laughing. “It’s perfect, Meg. Thank you.” He swept his arm around her waist and brought her close, sobering as the moment turned charged.
He brushed his lips against hers, seeking permission though he’d kissed her already. She gave it by leaning into him and making the kiss more substantial. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered just before the back door opened and a whole ruckus of sound came inside.
Meg stepped out of his embrace, her head down but not so far that Eli couldn’t see her smile. So maybe he wasn’t as rusty as he’d thought, though he still felt light years out of his element when it came to dating and women.
“What’re you two doing in here?” Andrew asked, taking in the whole scene before him as if he could see back in time and know what happened here.
“Just finishing with the presents,” Eli said. “And now we’re going to go eat.” He guided Meg past his squinty-eyed brother, but Andrew put his hand on Eli’s chest, stopping him before he could pass.
“Seriously?”
Eli shrugged. “Among other things.” He grinned and patted Andrew on the shoulder as he followed Meg into the kitchen.
Eli worked in the barn while his son followed behind him with a broom that Eli had cut the handle down on so it was child-sized. “Be sure to get into the corners, bud.”
Stockton kept humming, the swish-swish of his broom almost like a beat box to go with his voice. Eli brushed down the last horse and checked the tack room. Every horse had been fed and watered and cared for, and still Meg hadn’t come out of the lodge.
At this point, he seriously wondered if she would, and Eli didn’t have a whole lot left to give Stockton to do. He’d told Stockton they could go snowshoeing as soon as the stables were clean, and Eli glanced around, wondering if he should just go with his son.
“Come on, bud,” he said. “Let’s get the shoes, and you’re going to have to put on your scarf.”
The fact that Stockton didn’t complain about the scratchy scarf and practically ran to the corner to put his broom away testified of his eagerness to go. He took his snowshoes from his dad and sat down on the bench to strap the shoes to his boots. They’d moved to Wyoming in the dead of winter last year, and snowshoeing had fast become one of Stockton’s favorite things.
Eli had bought the boy his own shoes, and sometimes he wore them around the yard as he made snowmen.
“Ready, Dad.” Stockton stood, his stance just a bit wider than normal because of the wider frames of the snowshoes.
“Yeah.” Eli glanced toward
the doors at the other end of the stable, but Meg didn’t come through it. He pulled out his phone and called her, saying to Stockton, “Let me see if Meg is coming with us.”
“She doesn’t like snowshoeing,” Stockton said matter-of-factly.
Eli blinked at his son as the line rang. “She doesn’t?”
“She said she likes cross-country skiing better.” Stockton looked up at him. “I like the snowshoes.” He smiled and wrapped the scarf around his neck, his indication that he was ready to go.
Meg finally said, “Hello?” in a breathless voice. “Eli?”
“Hey, so, Stockton and I are just heading out on the snowshoes. Were…you coming?”
“Oh! The snowshoeing. Yes. Yes, I am coming to that.”
Eli smiled and motioned for Stockton to go outside and wait for him. “Okay, well, we’re down at the stables.”
“I’m on my way. I just need to tell my mom.”
Eli turned toward the door and held it open for Stockton as he clomped out. “How’s your mom?”
“She’s doing okay, actually. Andrew and Beau got her playing cards, and now she’s teaching them how to play cribbage.” She laughed, and Eli was glad to hear some joy in her voice. “I’m putting my boots on now.”
Sure enough, she came through the door eight minutes later, fully equipped for shoeing through the snow. Eli’s whole face broke into a huge smile and he kept himself from lunging toward her. He walked normally and drew her into a hug. “Good to see you.”
“You too.” She tucked her hair into her hat, her cheeks already pink from the cold.
He got her a pair of shoes and helped her strap them on, then he did the same. They joined Stockton, who had been walking around on the snow outside the stables.
“You ready, Stocky?” Meg called, and Stockton perked right up.
“Yeah, can we do the pine trail?”
Meg looked at Eli, and he said, “It’s not bad. Through the trees. Maybe a half an hour out and then half an hour back.”
She nodded, and Eli said, “Yeah, bud, lead us toward the trail.”
Meg wasn’t particularly skilled at snowshoeing, but he let her go after Stockton and Eli brought up the rear. With the bulky winter gear and Meg’s general clumsiness in the shoes, Eli opted to keep the conversation at a minimum.
He simply enjoyed being out in God’s country, the huge Teton mountains towering over them, the tops concealed among the clouds that had rolled in while he and Stockton had cleaned the stables.
They finally reached the century-old pines the trail was named after, and Eli noticed that Meg was red-faced, sweating, and breathless. A twinge of guilt hit him. If it was true she didn’t like snowshoeing….
“Can I take my shoes off, Dad?”
“Where you gonna go?” Eli asked.
“Just around the trees. Uncle Graham showed me some owl nests last time we came out here.” Stockton bent and started undoing the clasp keeping his boot on the snowshoe. “There’s hardly any snow because of the trees.”
“I guess so.” Eli said, because Stockton already had one boot free. He doubted anything he said would deter the boy, and it was just snowshoes, so what did it matter? Stockton grinned and ran off, pulling something from his pocket as he did.
“What does he have?” Meg asked, standing straight and still and tall.
“I have no idea.” Eli sighed. “And he’s only six. Can you imagine what he’ll be like when he’s sixteen?” He shook his head and chuckled, glad when Meg joined in.
“Oh, he’ll be fine.” Meg stutter-stepped over to Eli and laced her arm through his. “He’s got a great dad.” She gazed up at him with those deep, dark eyes, and Eli felt himself slipping, sliding, tripping, tumbling down the slope toward falling in love with her.
“I think you spend more time with him than I do,” Eli murmured.
“Mm.” Meg’s eyes drifted closed and she leaned further into him, her wishes crystal clear. Eli kissed her, finding her mouth soft and supple, the scent of her combining with the taste of her lips and almost igniting his blood.
Her fingernails traced along the back of his neck, making him shiver. He pulled her as close as he could with the bulky, awkward snowshoes, wishing he’d taken his off like his son had.
When he finally pulled away, he felt more complete than he had since Caroline’s death.
“So, cowboy.” Meg kept herself right beside Eli, her face only inches from his. “When do you think we should tell Stockton about us?”
“You think we need to have a specific conversation about it?”
She stopped leaning into him and met his eyes with a hint of alarm in hers. “Yes. Don’t you?”
“He’s six.”
“And he’s smart. He knows I’m not his mother.” She pressed her lips together. “And I’ll never be a mother.”
Curiosity tugged at Eli. “What happened, Meg?” He hoped they were to a place in their relationship where they could have real, meaningful conversations.
“I had some complications from a surgery when I was a teenager,” she said. “I was losing a lot of blood, and my mother decided to have the doctor perform a complete hysterectomy.” She drifted away from him, both physically and emotionally, and Eli watched her go.
“I was fifteen,” she said. “I think that’s why I’ve always felt this call to be a nanny.”
“Is that…? I mean, you don’t get along with your mother.” He shrugged, but Meg wasn’t even looking at him.
“I probably wouldn’t have been able to get pregnant anyway.” Her voice carried a ghost from the past, filled with some strange note Eli didn’t like and wanted to erase. “My endometriosis was complete, and painful, and…yeah.”
Eli stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her, unwilling to let her sift through her memories without something to hold on to. He knew what that was like, and he never liked thinking about Caroline when he was alone. It was too easy to fall down a rabbit hole of self-loathing, regret, and anger.
“You’ve been a good mother to Stockton,” he whispered in her ear. “And we can talk to him whenever. Maybe after your mom goes home?”
Meg nodded and Eli held her, the sweet silence in the snow almost perfect. If only there wasn’t still that nagging thought that he was doing something wrong. But being with Meg felt right. He’d never have his whole heart to give her, as Caroline had claimed some of it and taken it with her when she’d died.
But he could still love, he knew that.
He pushed the uncomfortable feelings away. Whatever it was, he’d figure it out and overcome it, because he sure liked being with Meg and having the promise of a family with her and Stockton.
Chapter Ten
Meg made her decision as soon as Stockton came skipping around the pine trees. She wouldn’t be quitting. She couldn’t let go of that little boy, with his flop of brown hair and the bright blue eyes he’d inherited from his mother.
She loved him, and she thought she might be falling for Eli too—her crush seemed to have developed more than legs over the past few days. A seed of fear seemed stuck in the back of her mind, and she couldn’t let go of it. It sprouted and grew, and she’d hack it back, and it would wither for a while, only to return with a vengeance.
It hadn’t died yet, and she wasn’t sure what it would take to get it to leave completely. The way Eli had just kissed her should’ve done it. He was so tender, so soft, and yet so insistent at the same time. She’d never felt as cherished as she did while standing in Eli’s embrace, and she prayed for a happy ending to this situation.
And get me back to the lodge safely, she added, realizing she had another half an hour of snowshoeing before she could truly relax. She didn’t understand that allure of the activity, but Stockton loved it, and Meg wanted to spend time with Eli. So she’d come, though she’d have preferred they put on a movie in the theater room downstairs and pop a bunch of popcorn in the mini kitchen in the basement.
“Ready?” Eli asked his son
, snapping Meg out of her inner thoughts. Her muscles tensed as Stockton straightened and gave them both a thumbs-up.
She wondered how Stockton would take the news of her and his dad dating. She’d learned it was always best to be up-front with children about things, even sensitive subjects. They didn’t need to know everything, or be exposed to adult situations, but they did have opinions, and they should be listened to.
Back at the lodge, Laney and Graham had returned from their family lunch, and Bailey came skipping out to meet Stockton. “My mom wants to know if everyone wants to watch a movie.”
Meg didn’t miss a beat when she said, “I do.”
“We’re in,” Eli also said, but Stockton groaned.
“Maybe if it’s not one of those dumb ones,” he said as he kicked the snow off his boots against the hose.
“What makes a dumb one?” Meg asked.
“I don’t know.” He went through the door Eli held open and dumped his coat and boots and gloves and everything on the mudroom floor.
“Hey, hang that up,” Eli said when he entered, but Stockton had already run off with Bailey. Meg bent over and collected the child’s gear and started putting it all on hooks and shelves where it belonged.
“You don’t have to do that.” Eli made a swipe for Stockton’s coat, snatching it right out of Meg’s hand.
She froze. “All right. I don’t mind.” In fact, he’d paid her a lot of money over the past four years to do exactly what she’d been doing. She helped Stockton with his homework while Eli sat at the same table, looking at something on his phone. She got Stockton ready for school, taught him how to tie his shoes, made sure he had a lunch if he needed one, all while Eli got himself ready just in time to kiss the top of Stockton’s head before Meg drove him to school.
Sometimes Laney drove, and Meg would stand in the doorway until the little boy was loaded up and off. No matter what, when she turned back to the lodge, it was to do laundry, make Stockton’s bed, and make sure the Whittaker’s had food in the house.
Sure, Graham still employed Annie to clean, and Bree to decorate, and Celia to cook. But Meg was just as much an employee of the Whittaker family as they were.