One Tough Christmas Cookie - Lucy McConnell Page 0,59

small kiss.

Reaching for Faith, Mom pulled her into a hug. “You’ve done a good thing, dear. A very, very good thing. Thank you.”

Faith returned the hug, and when she stepped back, her smile was huge. “My pleasure. Really. I—” She looked around at all of them. “I can’t tell you what the reindeer have done for me. My heart feels fuller, and it’s because of them. I know it.”

Mom beamed. “They tend to do that to people.”

Everyone chuckled. It was a long-standing inside joke that the reindeer had a way of sneaking up on a person and softening their heart against their will. For that, Caleb would forever be thankful. Faith wasn’t the same person he’d met in the hospital. Well, she was, but she was a better version of herself—freer with her happiness in a way she had kept a lid on before.

“You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?” Mom asked Faith.

Forest led Rudy into his stall, chatting about all the things the reindeer had missed while he’d been gone. Apparently, two of the bulls had gotten into an argument that they were still sorting out. The rest of the herd had ostracized them for not behaving, and they were in the far end of the enclosure, glaring at each other.

Caleb shook his head. Reindeer!

“I’d like to stay, but I’m scheduled to have dinner with my dad.” She dropped her chin.

Caleb’s heart went out to her. The conversation she planned wasn’t an easy one, but it should bring some closure. “Do you want me to go with you?” he offered.

“No.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “This is something I need to do alone.”

Mom gave Caleb a look that said he’d better fill her in later. He smiled in return.

“Well, in that case …” Mom hugged her again. “Goodbye, and thank you again. You’re welcome at our table anytime. Okay?”

Faith patted Mom’s back. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

Dad appeared and put his arm around Mom’s shoulders, steering them back to the house.

Faith watched them walk away. “They’re a great couple. I wonder what their secret to staying married so long is?”

“They’re both too stubborn to leave the ranch,” quipped Forest as he walked toward the door. He flipped around so he was walking backward and winked. “Don’t underestimate a stubborn man if he’s stubborn for all the right reasons.”

Faith laughed and waved as he left. “Somehow I doubt that’s the secret,” she said.

Pax shuffled over, his hands buried in his pockets. “It’s a lot of little things.” He too left through the side door.

Drake followed after them, not offering up any advice or observations. He was 19, an age when he still took for granted that his parents made it work.

Jack hit the button on the wall and the rolling door went up, signaling that someone had to pull the truck out. Caleb handed the keys to Faith, grateful she’d let him drive Rudy home. Somehow, she’d known he needed a job to keep his mind off things.

“By the way,” Jack called. “They’re both wrong.”

“Oh?” Faith spun to focus on him. “Then what is the answer?”

He pumped his eyebrows, and Caleb groaned. “Kissing—and lots of it.” With that, Jack sauntered out, leaving Caleb’s cheeks burning and his mind spinning. Leave it to his twin to make saying goodbye to the woman he’d shared a house with for two days more awkward. Thanks, Jack. Thanks so much.

“So, dinner?” he fumbled, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair. He held his hat in front of him like a shield to keep him from doing something stupid—like taking Faith into his arms. They could be good together—so good.

But kissing Faith would be a life-altering event—one he might be ready for, but he wasn’t sure she was.

Chapter 22

Faith

Faith held the bag of takeout down by her side, feeling like she was sneaking past the guards at a high-security prison rather than vising her dad in a rehab facility. The greasy smell of burgers and fries floated around her like flashing lights, giving away her position.

Residents stuck their heads out of doorways, sniffing the air. And workers in scrubs lifted their noses as if they couldn’t believe something would overpower the stale bleach smell the janitor’s latest mopping had left behind.

Even with all the attention she gathered along the way, she couldn’t get her feet to move any faster. Burdened by the uncomfortable questions she had to ask, she watched as Dad’s door loomed ahead, seeming to