Page 62 of To Hold and Protect

“Miss Willow is our special friend. Mine and yours.” He let go of Willow, then picked up Everly. “Did I tell you how pretty the birthday girl is?” He nuzzled her neck, making her giggle.

Nice diversion, Daddy.A pain sliced through Willow’s heart that she’d be leaving soon, and Parker and Everly would be nothing more than a fond memory.

“Can I open my presents now? I waited all day, Daddy, and I didn’t even beg.”

“But you’re begging now?”

“Yes!” She put her hands on his cheeks and stared into his eyes. “Say yes.”

“I don’t know. Let me think about it.”

“Daddy!”

“Say yes, Daddy, before she bursts my eardrums,” Kade said.

“Yes.”

“Goody!” She wiggled to get down.

Willow followed everyone into the formal dining room. A section of the cake from the party was on the middle of the table, and on the sideboard was coffee, bottles of wine, and a bucket of iced-down beer and sodas. Presents were piled at one end of the dining room table, and the chair in front of them had balloons floating above it.

Everly ran straight to the chair. The rest of the family took seats, leaving the two to the right of Everly for Willow and Parker. Without waiting, Everly tore into the presents, and exclaimed in her loud voice over each thing—new clothes, art supplies, Disney movie DVDs, and a necklace with a heart locket from Parker.

“Look at the back,” Parker said.

“Ohhh, a ladybug.” Everly turned the locket to show everyone the ladybug etched on the back. “Thank you, Daddy. I love it so much.” She’d opened all the presents that were on the table, and she spread her arms wide. “Thank you, aunts and uncles. I love everything.”

Parker leaned his chair back and opened the sideboard door. “You have one more present, ladybug.” He pulled out a wrapped box and set it down in front of her. “It’s from Willow.”

“You got me something, Miss Willow?”

“I did.” Willow thought she might be more excited than Everly. It wasn’t as good as being able to send her story and Everly’s illustrations to her agent, but it was close. As if he understood her anticipation to see his daughter’s reaction, Parker reached under the table and squeezed her knee. She glanced at him and smiled, and oh, the way his eyes softened as he looked back at her made her feel all melty inside.

“Ooooooh,” Everly said, almost whispering after she unwrapped the book and saw the cover. “Our book?” She picked it up, then her gaze flew to Willow’s. “I know the wordLadybug, but what’s the rest of it say?”

Willow pointed to the top line. “This is the title of our book.The Pink Dragon.Under that is Ladybug as the illustrator, and then my name as the author.” If it was a published book, Everly’s name would have gone under hers, but this was Everly’s birthday present, and she got top billing. “Look through it.” Her friend had done a beautiful job on the cover. She’d chosen a dusty rose for the cover and hot pink for the title and their names.

The family left their chairs and crowded behind Everly as she turned the pages. Willow smiled at Parker as the two of them stayed seated. They’d decided not to show the book to anyone before Everly saw it.

Tristan put his hands on Everly’s shoulders. “You have your own book. That’s great, Ev.”

“I’m so happy.” She glanced up. “Will you read it to me, Miss Willow?”

“Sure.” As if Everly didn’t almost know it by heart.

“I want to hear the story, too,” Harper said.

Skylar raised her hand. “And me.”

That was how Willow found herself seated in the living room with the Church family surrounding her as she read the story. Everly was on one side of her and Parker on the other. As she turned the pages, Everly would tell her to stop so she could show everyone her illustration for the page they were on and explain the drawing.

“And that’s how Serafina got to be in the tournament forever and ever,” Everly exclaimed after Willow read the last word.

Willow sat back and observed the family praise Everly and her illustrations, and she loved how supportive they were of the little girl. Having never lived up to her mother’s expectations, and being a disappointment in her career choice, she’d never experienced that kind of encouragement, except sometimes from her poet father when his mind wasn’t in the clouds. At least she understood her father since she was much like him.

“Thank you,” Parker quietly said. “She’ll always treasure that book.”

“And I’ll always treasure writing it with her.”

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