The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,87

of the horse’s mane.

He placed the ornament on the tree and returned to the boxes. Grandmother had made him a bear ornament when he was five years old, and he found the ornament, laced a hook through the ear, and hung it on the tree. “Thanks for loving me,” he whispered.

Grandmother loved the moon, the night sky, and the stars. Someone had already placed the big star on top of the tree, but she’d done several others.

He didn’t want one of those, though. She’d often told him that she loved him to the moon and back, and he searched for the crescent moon she’d made one year when he was only twenty. He found it near the bottom of the nineties box, hooked it, and found an empty spot on the tree for it.

“Love you, Grandmother.” He smiled at Ward, who glanced at him.

“Did Ranger say anything about lunch today?” he asked, his voice so low Bear almost missed it.

“No,” Bear said. “He’s bein’ real tight-lipped about it.”

“Oakley called me and asked me about him,” Ward said. “I didn’t tell him, because she asked me not to, and he won’t say two words to me.”

“You think she said you told her?”

Ward nodded, shot a glance to Ranger, who stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee and Bishop, the two of them talking about something. Bear watched them for a moment too. “One way to find out.”

“No,” Ward hissed, but Bear had already started moving.

He went into the kitchen to fix his own cup of coffee, intending to sidle up to Ranger and find out what he could. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noticed when all the chatter stopped. Only the Christmas music someone had turned on filled the air, and Bear hummed along to it until he heard someone say, “Uh, Bear. There’s someone here for you.”

He turned toward Ranger, who nodded with an exaggerated head movement toward the front door.

“For me?” Bear asked. “Who is it?” He picked up his creamed and sugared coffee and walked through the kitchen.

It wasn’t hard to find their visitor, because Samantha Benton had always been a strong magnet for Bear’s soul. That, and literally all thirteen of them were staring at her. Then him. Then back to her.

Bear stirred his coffee, trying to figure out what to do.

“You two should talk on the porch,” Mother said, stepping forward and taking Bear’s coffee mug from him. “Go on, now, Bear. Don’t be a polar or a grizzly.”

“Think panda,” someone called.

“No, teddy,” Zona said.

Bear didn’t know what to think, but Mother practically pushed him out the front door and onto the front porch, where Sammy had already retreated.

Bear looked at her, and she looked right back at him.

“I got this for you.” She shoved a loaf of bread into his hands, and Bear looked at the Amish friendship bread that had his mouth watering.

He looked up at her again, somewhat surprised she’d brought him a gift.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “Looked like a fun family party.”

“We’re decorating our angel tree tonight,” he said, really wishing he still had that coffee. It would give his hands something to do and his eyes somewhere else to look. He couldn’t rip into the bread, and he gestured to the pair of chairs with a round table between them. “Do you want to sit for a minute?”

“Yes,” she said, and she led the way to the end of the porch. She fiddled with the wallet in her hands, her gaze trained on it. “I guess I just—I got your text, and I miss you too.” She looked up and met his eyes for a moment before her gaze scampered away again.

Bear didn’t know what to do with that information. He could miss her, and she could miss him, and it still wouldn’t change anything.

He put the friendship bread on the table. “I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” she said, cutting him off. “I intentionally put distance between us, because I was stressed, and worried, and I just didn’t need one more thing to stress over or worry about.”

Bear gazed evenly at her, wishing he could root out her anxiety and blow it away with the wind.

“I apologize if I made you feel weak,” he said.

Sammy sighed in a frustrated way and shook her head. “You didn’t. I mean, you did, but it wasn’t intentional. I know that. I just…Bear.” She met his eye, and he found fire and determination in hers now. “I already feel