A Fool's Gold Christmas (Fool's Gold #9.5)

She stepped out the back door and walked down to the lit pathway. The night was freezing, but clear. So far there wasn’t any snow in the forecast. Stars twinkled in the dark sky.

The wagon, decorated with swinging battery-operated lanterns and wreaths, stood by the barn. Shane had already hooked up the horses. Christmas music played from a stereo somewhere, and the scent of hot chocolate drifted on the air. Two cars had already pulled up, and children and adults were spilling out into the hay-riding loading area.

Evie watched them, seeing a familiar blonde woman. She was about to wave to Nevada when she realized the hair was all wrong, as was the man with her. Another of the triplets, she thought. Montana, she remembered.

She walked over. “You came for a hayride.”

“How could we resist? I can’t believe you have time to be here. Everyone is talking about what you’re doing with the dance,” Montana said. “We can’t wait to see it. This is Simon, my husband, and our daughter, Skye.”

Evie glanced down at the baby, prepared to give the obligatory coo. New parents expected that. But as she parted her lips to say something, Skye opened her eyes and stared at her. The baby’s mouth was a perfect rosebud shape. The corners turned up as tiny hands clapped together in excitement. Skye giggled and reached for her.

“She likes you,” Montana said with a laugh. “She’s such a flirt. Would you like to hold her?”

Evie nodded and held out her arms. Montana handed over the happy baby.

Skye was lighter than Evie expected, but warm and smelled sweet. The child held her gaze, still smiling and waving her tiny fingers.

Beyond promising herself that she would never want her child to feel about her the way she felt about May, Evie hadn’t thought much about having children. She’d seen marriage and kids as some vague future thing. Someday. Just not now.

But holding Skye made her ache in a way she never had before. She saw possibilities and happiness in the baby’s face. Parts of her long dormant stirred to life. She wanted to belong, she realized. She wanted what others considered normal or even traditional. A husband. A family. She no longer wanted to live her life on the outside—watching everyone else be a part of something larger than themselves.

She briefly wondered what Annabelle and Shane’s baby would look like and suffered a pang when she realized if she kept to her plan of leaving, she wouldn’t be here to see him or her born.

“She’s so beautiful,” Evie murmured, then passed back the baby.

“I wish I could take credit,” Montana said with a laugh. “But she gets her looks from her dad.”

“Have fun,” Evie told her, then reluctantly walked toward the wagon.

More cars pulled up, and the wagon was loaded. Evie was kept busy posing for pictures with the children and helping people up and down the stairs. When Athena, the most wayward of the goats, made a break for freedom, Evie caught her by her red-and-green collar.

“Not so fast, my pretty,” she told the goat. Athena dipped her head and nibbled on Evie’s shoe.

They did a steady business. Sometime around eight, she took a break.

“You look great,” Dante murmured as he passed her with a tray of clean mugs for the cocoa. “Love the ears. Seriously. Do you get to keep them?”

She grinned. “Having an elf fantasy, are we?”

“The outfit is really working for me.”

They were by the back door. Music and laughter surrounded them, but they seemed cut off from the rest of the world. She stared into his eyes and wondered what it would be like to get lost in a guy like Dante. What it would be like to not be afraid to love.

“How are you doing with your family?” he asked. “Too much togetherness?”

“I’m doing okay,” she said, pleased she was able to say the words and know they were the truth. “They’re growing on me.” She grinned. “In a good way.” She touched his arm. “Brace yourself.”

“I’m braced.”

“You were right. About me and my mom.”

“Can I get that on a statue of some kind?”

She laughed. “No, but I’m going to say thank you. I’m spending more time with her, and it’s not too bad. I’m trying to see things from her perspective. She was young when her husband died. There was a lot on her plate. She could have done better, but no one is perfect.”

“Forgiveness?”

“I’m getting there.”

“I’m glad.” He kissed her lightly. “And later, you, me and the ears?”

She was still laughing when she walked back toward the petting zoo.

“There she is!”

Evie turned toward the familiar voice and spotted her mother walking toward her with an older woman. It took her a second to recognize the mayor.

“This is my daughter, Evie,” May was saying. “She’s a wonderful dancer. She’s taken on The Dance of the Winter King by herself, and we’re all so proud of her.”