Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Raya
Ican remember, as a child, watching a nature documentary about lionesses and their cubs.
The cubs would fake pounce, tackle, wrestle, and roll around with one another, kicking up dust and not caring what they’d knock into, and the lionesses would just look on, making sure they didn’t really hurt themselves.
Finn’s family is like that.
The house is beautiful and homey, fun and loud, and raucous and lovely. And not at all what I imagined.
I did imagine it sometimes, because I don’t know anyone who grew up on a ranch in Montana.
And because I spent a lot of time thinking about him.
I notice the line of shoes right inside the front door, and I quickly slip mine off.
“Oh, Momma’s gonna love you.” Finn nods at my stocking feet with a smile.
The lower level of the house is open, one room flowing into the next without walls or barriers, yet somehow, the space is cozy and inviting.
From where I’m standing, I can see straight into the living room, where a group of guys is watching a football game.
A pretty, younger woman is standing in the entryway along with Finn’s mom and the two little girls.
“Don’t worry, nobody expects you to remember everyone’s names,” Finn says, closing the door behind us.
But I’m determined to learn them all.
I smile up at him, and when my eyes catch his, a pang of desire rushes through me. What I really want to do is find somewhere quiet with no people so I can kiss him again and again until it feels like second nature.
My heart practically short-circuits at the thought.
Finn’s mom motions for me to hand over my coat and looks down at my feet. She practically beams and says, “Honey, you are welcome here any day of the week. Someone raised you right!”
“She flew here to tell me she loves me,” Finn grins.
“Finally wore her down, eh?” A guy sitting on a couch in the living room says.
“Well, come on—come inside. We’ll introduce you to everyone,” his mom says. “Finn, did you get her bag?” Then, to me, she adds, “We have plenty of room.”
“Oh my goodness, no, I can stay at a hotel or—” I really didn’t think this through. How very unlike me.
“Don’t be silly,” she says. “We have two empty cabins on the back of the property. It’ll be nice and private.”
“Should be more,” one of the guys prods.
“Don’t you start,” their mom says.
“My brother thinks we should host tourists,” Finn says, leaning toward me.
“It’s a goldmine, but what do I know?” the guy says, hands raised.
“Ignore them, Raya. They’re the worst.” The younger woman smiles at me. “I’m Rowe. Youngest sister.”
I smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” she says.
My eyes find Finn’s. “Oh?”
“Mostly that you’re out of his league,” one of the brothers cracks.
Another calls out, “Too good for him.”
The first turns to the second. “Too smart for him too.”
The second one turns to me and says, “Did you lose a bet?”
“Hey, shut up?” Finn says, then to me: “Like Momma said, ignore them.”
“It’s Christmas, boys, be civil.” Their mom shakes her head and says, “Boys,” with an exasperated eye roll.
I have to laugh because I can only imagine what it was like raising all these people.
“You’re pretty.” A little girl is standing right in front of me.
“Why, thank you, so are you,” I say back to her.
“I know,” the girl says with a shrug.
“That’s Libby,” Finn says. “And this is Jordy.” He picks up the smaller girl and tosses her over his shoulder. “Quent’s kids.”
Finn sets Jordy down, but not before fake-dropping her twice. She giggles, loud and long, and the sound of it makes everyone laugh.
He leads me further into the house, his hand on the small of my back.
The ceilings are tall, and there’s a wall of windows at the back of the house with a perfect view of the mountains.
There’s a little bit of snow on the ground, and the scene outside is breathtaking and peaceful.
But the view inside is pretty incredible too.
The biggest and most beautifully decorated Christmas tree I’ve ever seen is in the corner.
It has to be at least fourteen feet tall.
It’s massive but also impeccably and rustically decorated.
There are dozens of wrapped gifts underneath, and crocheted stockings—nine of them, each with a letter or two on the top—hang from a wooden mantel above a large, stone fireplace.
The entire house looks and smells like Christmas, and I’m starting to understand why Finn has so much holiday spirit.
I turn to him. “How are you not homesick every single day you’re not here?”
He smiles. “I am homesick every single day I’m not here.”
“Boys, manners.” Melinda pops one of the guys on the back of the head. He stands, pulls off his ball cap, and holds it in front of him, like a kid brought to apologize to the neighbor for breaking a window.
I immediately love her.
He raises a hand in a wave. “Hi. Pleasure.”
“That’s West,” Finn says. “And these are my other brothers, Quent and Boone. Just stay away from them. They’re terrible, awful people.”
I laugh. “I think you’re just scared they’ll tell me stories about you.”
His brothers laugh, and so do I, instantly loving the connection he has with them.
“Nice to meet you guys,” I say.
“You sure you’re here for him?” Boone asks, a lazy grin hanging loose on his mouth.
Finn’s mom doesn’t give me a chance to respond. She wraps an arm through mine and says, “That one is a terrible flirt. Like his dad, but dumber.”
“Hey! You said I was the favorite!”
“I lied,” she says, leading me into the kitchen, and I’m glad that Finn is close behind, though it would be hard to feel out of place among such friendly people.
This makes me think of my own family—equally as warm and inviting. I have a fleeting vision of our families getting together over the holidays and the madness that would ensue.
I have the overwhelming sense they would fit like puzzle pieces.
An older man walks in from outside through a side door, carrying an armload of firewood. I assume he’s Finn’s dad. He stomps his boots and takes off his coat, and the little girls run to meet him.
“Pop, did you find the reindeer?”
Finn’s hand finds mine, and I glance over at him. He smiles. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He says this so quietly only I hear him, and while someday he might tease me for this impulsive decision, today is not that day.
“Who’s this?” Finn’s dad walks in and smiles at me.
“Boots!” Melinda pats him—hard—on the chest. “Off.”
He winces. “I’m getting to it.”
“You’re tracking snow in. Get to it faster.”
He shakes his head and steps on the back of one boot to pull it off with his feet, unsuccessfully.
“Dad, this is Raya,” Finn says.
His dad stops and his eyebrows shoot up. “No kidding.”
“No kidding,” Finn says, beaming.
“Good to meet you, Miss Hart.” He tips his cowboy hat, then walks back to the door and fights to get his boots off.
The oven beeps. “Casserole’s done!” Melinda calls out—loudly. She looks at Finn. “Buttons and bows are done too.”
There’s commotion from the other room, loud, like a washing machine getting thrown down a flight of stairs, as Finn’s brothers climb over one another to make their way into an area with a huge dining table.
“Hope you’re hungry,” Melinda says, nodding at the boys. “You can see we don’t do anything small around here.”
I laugh. “I’m starving, but could I wash up first?”
Melinda looks at Finn, who nods. “Yep. I got you.”
I got you. Simple words that mean so much.
I follow him back through the entryway and into a long hallway that leads to several other rooms. I slow my pace, stopping to look at a little cluster of framed family photos, zeroing in on one of their whole family on the ice at what appears to be an important high school hockey game. I point to it.
“The night Hunter scored the winning goal and Silverwood won the state title.” Hunter’s smile is huge, and the entire family looks so happy.
Finn is also in uniform and has his arm wrapped around his brother, the rest of the family surrounding them.
I can practically hear the laughter and the shouts of joy.
“I read one of the letters,” Finn says, eyes firmly focused on the picture.
I turn and look at him. “You did?”
He nods, but still avoids my eyes. “I mean, it sucked, but I did it.”
“Finn. That’s huge.”
“Yeah,” he says, then turns to face me. “It is. I have so much to tell you, but right now I just want to stare at you for a minute because I still can’t believe you’re here.”
I smile. “I honestly can’t either.”
“Without a plan and everything. Gosh, look at you,” he fake-gushes. “Our little Raya is growing up,” he jokes.
I laugh at him, and he takes my face in his hands and kisses me so sweetly it makes my head spin. When he pulls back and looks at me, there’s longing in his eyes. “You’re sure about this.”
“Positive,” I say.
A smile crawls across his lips, and he kisses me again. “I have a theory that kissing you is never gonna get old, but I’m looking forward to proving it.”
I go up on my tiptoes and kiss him again, head a little dizzy as I try to get used to the fact that I’m doing this. I’m going to let myself fall. And I have a feeling Finn is going to make it fun.
“I was worried about showing up here,” I say. “Worried you’d maybe gotten tired of waiting for me to figure things out.”
“Hart, I would’ve waited for you till the day I die.”
I bite back a smile.
He pulls me into a tight hug, burrowing his face into my neck, and I let out a too-loud laugh. I clap my hand over my mouth and push him back. “Not right now—” I hiss. “We have to go eat.” I widen my eyes dramatically. “I’m starving.”
“Okay, go wash your hands or whatever,” he says. “But just know that from now on, I’m going to kiss you every chance I get.”
I open the door of the bathroom and step inside, then glance back in his direction and grin. “I’m looking forward to it.”