The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,93
his cowboy hat. “Is that…is she going to like that?”
“I doubt it,” Vaughan said, still grinning from ear to ear. He looked at Bear, the smile falling from his face. “Wait. Lincoln didn’t tell you?”
Bear didn’t want to get the boy in trouble, but something bubbled in his stomach too. “Not exactly,” he said.
“Lincoln said he talked to you about it, and you volunteered to take Spot up to the ranch and train ‘im up for Sammy.”
Bear had a very hard time not letting his mouth fall open. “Oh.”
Lincoln giggled as he rolled around with the dog—named Spot, apparently—and Bear found he couldn’t tell him no.
“Hey,” Sammy said, coming out onto the porch too. “I’m ready.”
“Happy birthday, baby,” her father said, and he hugged her. “I guess we’re doing gifts first.”
“We are?” Sammy and Bear said at the same time.
“Link,” Vaughan called. “Bring your mom her birthday present.”
Lincoln scooped the puppy into his arms, where it wiggled and squirmed until it was facing him. Then it licked his face, causing another round of giggles to come out of Lincoln’s mouth.
Sammy sucked in a tight breath and met Bear’s eye. “That puppy is for me?”
“Looks like it,” Bear said as Lincoln struggled to get up the steps.
He finally made it, only smiles for miles on his face. “Look, Mama,” he said. “It’s an English setter. They’re real good guard dogs, and they’re real smart.”
“It’s a puppy,” Sammy said. “You have to teach a dog to guard and be smart.” She looked like she’d been struck by lightning.
Lincoln shifted and put the puppy on the porch.
“And who’s going to potty train that thing?” she asked.
“His name is Spot,” Lincoln said. “See his black spots, Mom?”
“Don’t you think your mother should get to name her own dog?” Bear asked.
Lincoln looked at him, finally sobering enough to look a bit cowed. “Um.”
“Link.” Sammy crouched down in front of her son. “Look, I know we’ve talked about getting a dog before, but I really can’t take care of one right now.”
Lincoln toed the ground, and his face was just a picture of misery.
“That’s why I said I’d help,” Bear said. “I mean, Lincoln asked me to take the dog to the ranch and keep him up there. Teach him to work and guard…and be smart.” He stepped next to Lincoln and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Sammy looked up at him. “Is that right?” She straightened, her eyes never leaving Bear’s.
“Yeah, we figured you two will be living up there soon anyway, and then Spot—or whatever you want to name him—” He tightened his fingers on Lincoln’s shoulder. “—Won’t have to adjust to a new place.”
Sammy knew Bear was flying by the seat of his pants, but she didn’t call him on it. She looked at Lincoln, her father, and then back to Bear. He had no idea what she found on each of their faces, but she sighed and dropped her chin to her chest.
“Fine,” she said. “But I really don’t like the name Spot.”
Lincoln cheered, and her father limped toward the back door. “Our gift is inside, Sammy. Come see.”
Lincoln followed him, but Sammy stayed with Bear. “You agreed to get me a puppy for my birthday? I don’t think so.”
Bear grinned and shook his head. “I found out literally three minutes ago. Link was supposed to talk to me, and he didn’t.”
“He really can’t do that.” Sammy faced the house. “I just couldn’t tell him no.”
“Join the club,” Bear said, leaning down and inhaling the scent of her hair. She’d sprayed something in it to try and mask the grease, metal, and motor oil from the shop. It partially worked, but he adored the cherries and motor oil concoction in his nose.
“You’re beautiful today,” he whispered, sliding his hand along her waist and letting his lips linger near her ear. He placed a kiss there that she pressed into, and Bear asked, “When can we get married?”
“Let’s go talk to my mother,” she said, looking up at him. “Get a date on the calendar.”
“Right now?”
“Yes,” she said, laughing. “Right now, cowboy.” She put her hand in his and pulled him toward the back door. They went in together, and Sammy opened her gift from her parents—a brand new TV—and then said, “Mom, let’s get out the calendar so Bear and I can start planning our wedding.”
“Oh, good idea.” Her mother bustled off to get a paper calendar she kept on her desk while Vaughan got out plates and cups for dinner.