“It’s been a perfect storm,” Tamara said. “That’s Diane and Jack. They’re staying with Luke and Kelli for the holidays. My sisters are here tonight, and my dad, because my brothers-in-law’s families all made last minute plans—never mind the details. It’s a tangled mess, but basically, we’ve got a full house.”
“But we’re glad you’re back,” Caleb insisted, rising to his feet in response to a call for help from one of the less familiar men in the room. “We’ll talk tomorrow about your plans. Or the next day. But soon. We’ve got news to share.”
He was gone before she could poke any further. Ginny eyed Tamara who had remained behind. “Are you pregnant?”
“Shut your mouth,” Tamara said wryly. “I’m not masochistic enough to do that again. No, it’s different good news, but you have to wait until we’re down to immediate family.”
“I am patience personified,” Ginny drawled.
“Good, because I am so far behind on Christmas Day prep, it’s not even funny. We need to get the kids to sleep before we can put up the tree, and with everyone storming the castle unexpectedly, that’s going to take a Christmas miracle.”
“Or a really fabulous elf who masquerades as an auntie.” This Ginny could willingly do. “Let me take care of the girls. It’ll be fun to get caught up, and I can keep them occupied until they pass out.”
“If you’re sure, I’d appreciate it. Sasha and Emma will be thrilled.” Tamara eyed her eighteen-month-old son currently sitting in his grandpa’s lap, blinking hard in a desperate attempt to stay awake. “Thank goodness that one will pass out on time.”
For the next couple of hours, Ginny fell back into the still familiar, yet brand-new sensation of caring for her nieces.
“Uncle Walker called. He said Santa left some presents for us at his house,” Emma informed her as they sat on her bed and worked on dressing dolls in holiday finery. “He and Auntie Ivy will bring them over tomorrow.”
“That’s good. I’m sure sometimes Santa’s sled must get a little overloaded.”
Sasha’s face twisted through a series of strange contortions, her lips especially grinding together as if she were fighting to keep from speaking out of line.
Sure enough, as soon as Emma slipped away to the bathroom, Sasha scooted up against Ginny’s side and dropped her voice to a mere whisper. “The whole Santa thing is old news to me. I mean, the bit about him being everyone, and not a real person. But I’m not sure Emma’s figured it out yet, so shhhh. I don’t want to spoil it for her. Okay?”
She pressed a finger over her lips and nodded decisively.
“I won’t say a word,” Ginny promised. “I’m a good secret keeper.”
The conversation turned to the excitement of tomorrow, and that they’d have not only presents in the morning with Mama and Papa, but that their friend Talia was coming over for a birthday gift exchange—it was all very exciting, and Ginny loved the time to simply relax with the girls.
She’d spent oodles of time with them, from the time they were babies, but being away for three years meant she’d missed a lot of big recent changes. Finding out who they were now was wonderful and humbling.
So much to relearn. So much to figure out.
Lights finally out, goodnight kisses complete, Ginny rejoined the crew in the living room and helped set up the tree as the Stone tradition dictated. Laughter continued to flow around the room, but there were enough people, she easily stayed on the edges. Which meant she spent more time observing and less sharing her own plans.
Only, when she’d covered her third yawn in under five minutes, Ginny found her sister-in-law and quietly let her know she was headed to bed.
“Umm, about that.” Tamara’s smile looked a little frazzled. “I hate to tell you this, but there’s no room at the inn.”
Ginny paused. She’d slept in her old basement room the last couple times she’d visited, but there were a lot of guests still milling around. “Want me to stay with Dustin in the cottage?”
Her sister-in-law shook her head. “He’s got a friend with him for the next two weeks. You do not need to hang out with a couple of twenty-two-year-olds. Also, Luke and Kelli have their friends staying over, the crew quarters are full. Bottom-line, would you mind crashing in one of the trailers? The one next to the south barn is clean, and there are bedsheets in there.” Tamara made a face. “I’m not sure if anyone got around to actually making the bed, though.”
“I can handle that,” Ginny promised. She laid a hand on her sister-in-law’s arm. “It’s okay. I’m family. You don’t need to guest me up.”
Tamara wrapped her in a big hug. “I’m very much looking forward to getting to know you better. I’ve always enjoyed the time we’ve had in the past.”
“Me, too,” Ginny said honestly. “Plus, we need to reminisce in Caleb’s presence about how you were a total badass and took him to the ground the first time you two met.”
The burst of laughter from Tamara was heartfelt, and Ginny’s optimism returned. Maybe this coming back to the family fold would be easier than she’d hoped.
But she was glad to slip away a few minutes later. Away from the rumble of laughter and the sheer presence of people and back into the quiet of the winter night. Ginny grabbed her backpack from her truck and wandered slowly, taking in all the visible changes to the place she’d grown up but been away from for years.
The trailer Tamara had sent her to sleep in was a newer one, parked neatly beside the south barn. Maybe twenty-seven feet long, it looked sturdy yet cozy.
Three goats in their nearby pen watched with wild curiosity, and Ginny saluted as she passed. “As you were, fellow mischief-makers.”
She opened and closed the trailer door as quietly as possible though. No use in warning the goats they had a neighbour, or the hellions would find a way to break out and come haunt her in the night.
The trailer smelled strangely good. She’d expected the air to be slightly stale, so the unusual scent was both a relief and a mystery. Bergamot? Coffee? Those two for sure, but something else familiar that she vaguely remembered…
Tired enough to simply want to crash, Ginny stopped in the small living space to get ready. She stripped off her pants, then slipped her bra from under her top, leaving only her oversized tank to sleep in.
“Be free,” she mumbled softly, taking a deep breath to enjoy the lack of pressure on her shoulders from the bra straps. Big boobs were a pain at times, literally. “I crack me up.”
Her eyes adjusted to the pale glow coming in the window from the yard light, so she didn’t bother with turning on the overhead light. She shuffled toward the bedroom area, suddenly wary when a strange, out-of-place sound rumbled her direction.
Ginny cautiously peered around the corner.
Holy shit.
The bed indeed had sheets as Tamara had told her, but they were messed up, scrunched into semi-piles over the long, muscular form of a naked man. He lay face down, his butt on prime display. The edge of fear that had swept in vanished.
Ginny knew her mystery man.
Lying before her was Tucker Stewart, nephew to Silver Stone’s long time foreman, her older brother Luke’s companion in crime during the summers while they were growing up, and her own personal kryptonite.