Page 2 of Must Love Mistletoe

“We had a foot of fresh snow overnight. What’s your point?” The turnoff to the Casey ranch was coming up on the left and Cal took it, heading for the house he’d grown up in. His mother still lived there and had a basement rack crammed to overflowing with boys’ clothes of all shapes and sizes. Waiting for her grandsons, she always said. He didn’t think she’d mind if they raided it. She could call the school while they were at it and tell them Cal would be late. Savannah Casey had raised five hellions. He knew for a fact she’d be used to that bit.

Sam cut a hopeful figure as they made their way into the kitchen, because this particular kitchen wasneverwithout cookies.

Cal might have been somewhat hopeful, too.

“Well, would you look what the snow brought in. My two favorite people.” His mother smiled as she put the lid back on what looked to be a crock-pot of beef and bean stew.

“Hello, Mrs. Casey.”

“Hey, Mom. Sam missed the bus and Beth’s still at work.”

His mother reached for the cookie jar and unscrewed the lid. “Let me guess. You want me to call the school and let them know he’ll be late.”

Cal nodded, as she held the jar in front of an eager Sam. “That kind of thing’s just better coming from you.”

“And you know this how?”

“I know this instinctively.”

Sam took a cookie.

Cal nabbed one, too. “Mind if we raid the clothes in the basement?”

His mother cast an assessing eye over Sam and grasped the situation in a heartbeat. “There’s plenty there. Some of Jett’s old gear might be best. It’s the newest.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide. “Jett’s gear,” he said with deep reverence, and Cal barely held back an eye roll.

His youngest brother was a downhill skier with a fist full of Olympic gold medals to his name. There was no topping that. The only achievement Cal could boast of was that he was bigger than all four of his brothers and had the approximate shoulder width of an ox.

Big, dumb, and dangerous when riled, the uncharitable might have called him. Didn’t tire easily. Useful when it came to hard slog and outdoor work.

Face like a weathered mountainside, even if the occasional womanhadtold him he had kind eyes.

He summoned a wry smile for Sam’s enthusiasm for rummaging through Jett’s old outdoor gear. No point loading the kid up with insecurities Cal had carried for so long they were almost old friends. “Want to take a look?”

Sam nodded, his mouth full of chocolate chip goodness.

“What time will I tell the school to expect Sam?”

“’Bout lunchtime.”

His mother looked at the kitchen clock that read a little after seven. “Lunchtime,” she echoed.

“Give or take.” He nodded, happy with his estimation, and alongside him the small, wise little boy nodded, too. “We have to put out a bit of feed and bedding, get those cows back in their paddock, and fix the fence first.”

Priorities were important.

*

Two hours later,after they’d spread hay, saddled and loaded the horses, and driven up the mountain to Hooper’s Pass, and then cut across the ridge to where Cal figured the cows would be, he was beginning to regret not taking Sam straight to school. Not because the boy couldn’t handle Old Plod the horse, because he could. Not because he feared the kid wasn’t warm enough in his new old clothes. It was because Sam’s smile spoke of deep contentment, and when he wasn’t looking like Christmas had come early, he just plain ran his mouth.

“Save your breath for school,” Cal advised, when the topic of animal tracks in the snow had been done to death.

“Didyoulike school?” Sam asked.

“I liked it well enough. Ifinishedschool,” he added, just in case Sam had other ideas.

“Did you get good grades?”