Epilogue
SAbrINA
Two Years and a Few Months Later
T he all-out decorations the town did for Christmas were my favorite, no matter how cold the actual temperature was, and the previous year, it had been really close to freezing. The ambience, the warm lights, the large, decorated tree, the carolers, the roasted chestnuts, and the hot chocolate warmed even the coldest person. I knew this because Kathy Weyman was laughing and smiling—as she did every year. That was the magic of it.
Of course, having a steady job and warm place to live had gone a long way toward helping her too. That had been all Fort and Cricket’s doing. They’d seen a town member in pain and offered to help. Kathy accepting it had been the first step. Letting go of grudges had been the second. She’d been happy to go on a morning talk show and admit how Cal’s dad, via Jonathon Smith, had paid her to provoke me.
All of us had been letting go of the ugly. Morgan’s divorce from Dalton had been finalized a few weeks earlier, and she was glad it was behind her. Dalton’s greedy reach for the ranch had proven unsuccessful. As had his fight against me and the land deed. Bribing a city official and banking that the land deed he’d gifted my mom had died with her had been a dumb gamble. Just because she’d died young didn’t mean she hadn’t had a will that had left the land to me. Dad had told me about it in his will, but in my grief, I’d forgotten, only to be reminded when the fire happened.
Funny that. Had Dalton been less controlling or greedy, he might still have his company—not be bankrupt—and be the owner of a resort. Who knew when I would have found the paperwork in that box?
I stood by a large bouncy house with Cori, drinking chamomile tea and watched the littles inside. There were three houses, one for older kids, one for kids three and younger, and one for the in-between kids. The in-between house looked like Fight Club , with all the kids bouncing around, their limbs out of control. Not one came out unscathed and without tears on their faces.
Cori’s attention bounced between the in-between house and the one with the littles. “You’d think after taking an elbow to the lip, Tabby wouldn’t go back in, but she did, and I’m worried it’s to throw some elbows of her own.” She chewed her lip.
I glanced over to where Fort was looking in the mesh window, pointing at a kid, and using his cop voice. I caught Rod by the arm as he dashed by with a giant elephant ear in his hand. “Hold up. How many of those have you had?”
We’d had the talk before coming into town. Just because all the food was free didn’t mean he had to eat all of it.
“One.” He focused on something over my shoulder, his tell. He was lying. His friends had stopped, too, and were all looking at the ground.
“Is that your final answer?”
He sighed. “All right, this is”—his eyes flicked to mine—“my third. But they’re really good, and I haven’t had any other dessert, and Cal said I could.”
“That’s because Cal’s not paying attention.” He was busy helping with the sleigh rides. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you have half if you give me the other half. And you have no more after this. You’re gonna get a stomachache.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You want the whole thing, dontcha?” He held it out. “You just don’t want to stand in line.”
Cori chuckled. “He’s got ya there.”
She adjusted her baby boy in the sling she was wearing. She and Fort procreated like bunnies. This one was only a few months old, and they were talking about another, not because they wanted one but because they knew that no matter what they did toward prevention, it would fail. Layla, now a bossy two-year-old, had been the result of a failed IUD. Baby Beau in the sling had been conceived while Cori was on the pill. Fort had been worried that if he got a vasectomy, they might have twins. Only Tabby, their oldest, had been planned, but all of them were wanted.
Rod waved the elephant ear. “If I give you this can, I have one all to myself?”
He drove a tough bargain. And the truth was, I did want the whole thing, and I didn’t want to stand in line.
“Deal.” I took the treat. “One more, and that’s it. Or at least try to fit in something like a turkey leg or a potpie in between, please.”
“I’ll try,” he said with an eye roll. After the handoff, he ran back toward the treat vendors.
“Your mom is cool,” one of the kids with him said as they ran off.
Rod gave me a look over his shoulder and a smile. The adoption had been final a year now. He was ours, and we were his, and we didn’t need names like Mom and Dad to make that official. But that didn’t mean I didn’t like it when people called me his mom.
I blew him a kiss. I loved that child with all my heart.
“Heads up. Here they come,” Cori said, and I turned to watch two little girls, holding hands, slide out of the littles’ bouncy house. They jumped up and ran to us—her Layla and our Simone, both fully embracing the terrible threes.
While Cal was doing a job in North Africa, he’d found Simone at an orphanage in a small village. He had taken one look at her and called to tell me he wanted to bring her home. There was no question that she was Daddy’s girl.
“Bite,” she said, looking up at me and the elephant ear, her hands wiggling in anticipation.
“Just one.” I held it out to her. She took the largest bite possible, this crafty girl of mine.
Fort walked over, holding Tabby’s hand. She had a scowl on her face.
“I hate these stupid bouncy things. Every year, I say we shouldn’t do them, and every year, we do. Next year, I’m saying no. They’re a liability. Jonah Shepard just bit someone, and I think the Billings kid might have broken his arm. Parents signed release forms, right?”
Cori patted his arm. “Of course. Everyone knows it’s play at your own risk.”
“I wasn’t done, but Dad made me get out,” Tabby said.
“You screamed in Jonah’s face. Those houses make kids monsters, and you are not exempt.”
“He jumped on my foot.” Her chestnut hair was sweaty and clung to her forehead. She looked so much like her mother.
“It’s packed like sardines in there. Everyone is jumping on everyone else,” Fort groaned.
“Jonah’s getting out anyway.” I pointed to the exit slide, where Jonah ran off toward his brother Nathan, Rod, and some other kids.
Tabby tugged her hand out of her father’s and gave her mom a questioning look.
“Yes, you can go over there, but we aren’t here much longer. Twenty minutes, and don’t get mad at me when it’s time to go.”
Tabby said nothing but ran off to catch up with the boys.
“Why did you let her go? She’s gonna terrorize them.” Fort bent down and scooped up Layla.
“Babe, she’s got a crush on Jonah. Let her be.”
Fort nearly dropped Layla. “She’s in third grade. She’s too young for a crush. And of the two, why did she have to pick the wild twin?” He caught sight of someone in the crowd and yelled, “Hey, Shepard, I want to have a talk with you!” before stomping off toward Jace and Cal.
I put my hand out for Simone’s. “Come on. Let’s go see Daddy and get a sleigh ride.”
She took my hand, and we followed Fort to the others, where he was giving Jace a hard time about his son.
“It’s not my fault I had boys and you had girls,” Jace said with a laugh.
“I have a son,” Fort said, pointing to Beau.
“Yeah, but those girls of yours are gonna kill you before you can enjoy him.” Cal picked up Simone. “Want to sit in the front of the sleigh?”
She nodded, and he placed her on the front seat and handed her the reins. “How about you, Layla?” When she nodded, he took her from Fort and set her next to Simone.
“Hey, Mama.” Cal snaked an arm around my waist and drew me near. “How ya feeling?”
I held up the elephant ear. “Fine. I have this.”
He laughed and took a bite. Then his hand gave a loving stroke down my arm and came to rest on my stomach. “And how about these guys?”
“They were kung fu fighting earlier, but now that I’ve had some food, they’re resting.” In four more months, we would meet our next two miracles. Our twins. Because, like Cal said, why do one when you can go big and do two? Of course, he wasn’t the one who was going to have to birth these giants, who already were weighing in at the top of the scale.
I took in my friends, my small family, and the town and felt the warmth of each surrounding me. Home wasn’t a house; it was people. It was community. It was the town throwing Rod an adoption party and telling him how happy they were he was not going anywhere. It was community of people rallying to build Brynna a new shop so she didn’t have to wait months for a contractor. These people were everything. I had so much, and the best way I could express it was by saying, “My cup runneth over.”
I wove a hand in Cal’s hair and kissed him once, twice, and a third time. “Thank you.”
There was no need to explain what I meant. He knew.
“Thank you.” He returned the kiss. “Oh, Paul’s staying through New Year’s, by the way. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”
I looked at the dance floor, where Paul and Cricket were dancing. I wasn’t sure if she was over Deke yet or if she ever would be. But something seemed to be brewing between her and Paul that had potential.
“Mm, no. It’s not them that I’ve been giving my attention.”
I’d given up matchmaking as a profession after the smear campaign, not wanting to be away from Rod. I now worked for Cal’s company, helping with women’s and children’s safety education. One of my favorite jobs was talking to schoolkids.
“What do you mean? Who’s getting your attention?”
Past the dance floor, near the Christmas tree and the large ball of mistletoe hanging off a street lamp, sipping on mulled wine, were Brynna and Nick. She was laughing at something he’d said, and he was staring at her like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Nick had been spending more time in Wolf River because the town acted like he was a nobody, and he loved that. But the real reason was Brynna. It had taken a while for these two to see each other, but now something real was happening that was healing for him and awakening in her.
I couldn’t wait to watch love happen. How could it not? So much of it was all around us.