If eyes could start a fire, I’d be a smoldering pile of ashes in the driver’s seat right now.
As I clench the wheel, I ask, “Can we pull off actingnormal?”
“Normal?” She makes a pfft sound. “I’m perfectly normal. Angry normal.”
I pull off the road onto a narrow gravel strip where the plow removed the snow earlier. “Look. I don’t want to air my dirty relationship laundry in front of my four brothers, their spouses, and my parents. Now listen to me carefully.”
Sierra crosses her arms, raises a brow over her angry eye.
“I’ve been away in the service for twenty years. My mother kept a place setting at her dining table for me every single Sunday for every one of those years. That’s over 1,000 times there’s been a place for me there no matter where in the world I was or how unlikely it was that I would come home. And you’re my guest today. So there’s a place for you there too. Do you get how important this is?”
She shifts in her seat. Flicks her eyes away from me.
After a few tense seconds, I say, “I know you’re mad at me. I’m trying to do something that I think is right for you. If you have a single ounce of care for me at all, you will act like you want to be there with me, at that table, with my family.”
Her lashes drop. When she raises them, some of the anger has dissipated. Something unsaid passes between us. After scrubbing my eyes with my hands, I shift the truck into gear and pull back onto the road.
Let’s pray we can keep it together for a few hours.
The ranch is blanketed in white. Low evening light has cast everything in a moody gray color. I hope it’s not an omen.
Sierra’s silent as she walks beside me up the porch steps. She doesn’t move away when I rest my hand on her lower back and usher her through the door.
Warm, welcoming scents of baked bread, roast chicken, and cinnamon cookies fill the air along withthe earthy fragrance of the fresh Christmas tree. I take Sierra’s borrowed coat as she moves to stand in front of the tree.
She leans back to take in the tall height. “It’s really beautiful.”
“It is. Maybe a close second to ours.”
An innocent happiness brightens Sierra’s face as she walks around the tree, taking in the red and white lights sparkling in branches that are laden with every color ornament. “Some of those are from Liam’s and my deployments. I used to send them home when I could.”
Her eyes turn to me. I hold my breath wondering what she’s going to say, but a shrill squeal shatters the moment. Two seconds later, I’ve got two munchkins wrapped around my legs. My brother’s laugh soon follows. “I wondered where those two were going.”
Picking both toddlers up, I laugh. “Have they been trying to climb the tree?”
“Every chance they get. But I think it’s you they are really excited about, at the moment.”
“You think?” I blink as Finn pats a hand on my cheek and the other strangles me in a hug.
“Hey, hey, now. Don’t kill Uncle Cole before he can eat dinner.” Larson pulls one child into his arms. I shift the other and catch his hand on my own.
“Sierra, this is Eli, and that little wild man is Finn. And this is my brother, Larson.”
As he flips the toddler in his arms over his shoulder, Larson says, “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard all about you.”
Sierra’s eyes widen. “Me?”
He grins. “Mom is over the moon that you two are having a romantic Christmas, complete with a tree and all.”
I laugh as Sierra flicks her eyes toward me. Her jaw is locked tight.Yeah,romantic. Not at the moment.
Sierra flips her hair over her shoulder as she lifts her chin. “I’m sure there’s something I can do in the kitchen.”
And then she’s gone without a backward glance.
So romantic.
Larson raises a brow.