Mistletoe Wedding (16 page)

No reply.

Adrenaline flowing, she checked the bathroom.

No sign of her daughter.

Meg checked every closet, under the bed, any place she could think a six-year-old could climb into and fall asleep. With each passing second, her panic rose.

She’s got to be here, if not . . .

The barn.

Brooklyn might be at the barn again.

Running to the front door, Meg’s sock-covered feet slipped on the hardwood floor. She slid, then crashed into the wall. Ouch. That was going to leave a bruise. At least she managed to stay upright. She surveyed the coat rack. Brooklyn’s pink parka and snow boots were missing.

Meg threw on a coat over her pajamas, put on a wool hat, shoved her feet into a pair of boots and tugged on gloves. She opened the door. The snow fell heavier, but she saw small footprints.

If she didn’t find Brooklyn in the barn, Meg would need to search elsewhere. The Bar V5 was so large. She couldn’t do that on her own. She needed help.

Meg needed Ty.

She grabbed the phone from the wall and called the bunkhouse’s landline.

He answered on the first ring. “Merry Christmas.”

“Brooklyn is missing.” The words rushed from Meg’s mouth. “Her coat and boots are gone.”

“The barn?”

“That’s what I’m thinking, but if she’s not there . . . ”

“I’ll have people look elsewhere. With this weather, we don’t want to waste any time.”

Meg tightened her grip on the phone. “Thanks so much.”

“That’s what family is for.”

The Bar 5 is a family. You and Brooklyn are part of that now.
His words the night of the tree trimming gave her comfort. “I’m heading to the barn.”

“Be right there.”

“Okay.” An image of Brooklyn formed in Meg’s mind.

Oh, baby, where are you?

A lump burned in her throat. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t lose it. She took a deep breath and another. “We’ll find her, right?”

“Yes,” Ty said with no hesitation. “We will find her.”

H
e had to find Brooklyn.

In the bunkhouse, Ty tugged on his jacket. His pulse pounded through his veins. Thank goodness, he’d been out to the pasture this morning to move the herd to a sheltered area before the storm hit. Taking time to dress would have held him up longer.

The worry in Meg’s voice clawed at his heart. He hated hearing that frightened tone, because he remembered what being in her shoes felt like. Once had been enough. He didn’t want to go through that again.

Except he was.

With Brooklyn.

Where could she be?

Ty slipped on his boots.

So much for not wanting to be a parent—albeit a surrogate one—again. He was reliving that helplessness he’d felt with Rachel, standing in the eye of a hurricane, not sure when the winds would hit.

He tugged on his gloves.

Brooklyn had better be in the barn. A storm was moving in.

Eli put on his duster over his winter outerwear. “I’m heading to the pasture.”

“Zack’s checking the lodge and yard,” Dustin said. “I’m going to look around the outbuildings.”

“Is there some rule about kids not getting grounded on Christmas?” Eli asked.

“Grounding is an available option three-hundred-and-sixty-five days a year, including birthdays and major holidays. At least, it was for Rachel.” Ty had a feeling Meg would agree. He couldn’t believe Brooklyn had done this again. Sure, she was only six, but she’d been told more than once. And to disappear on Christmas morning . . . that was crazy. “Let’s find Brooklyn first, then we can worry about teaching her a lesson.”

Ty zipped up his coat, then ran out the door toward the barn. The cold stung his lungs. He didn’t slow down. He couldn’t stop until he held Brooklyn in his arms. He followed two sets of footprints, one small and one larger. Must be Brooklyn’s and Meg’s.

The door to the barn was ajar. None of the wranglers would have left the door open. He hurried inside to his office.

A pair of flannel pajama-covered legs wearing snow boots stuck out from the doggy door. He skidded to a stop. “Meg?”

She backed out, giving him a nice view of her butt, until he remembered the reason they were there—Brooklyn.

“Is she in there again?” he asked.

“No.” Meg stood. She brushed the dirt off her hands and knees. “The door was locked, and I didn’t want to wait. Brooklyn’s boot prints lead to the barn so she has to be around her somewhere.”

Ty wanted to kiss away the worry from Meg’s eyes. He fought the urge to hold her in his arms. He couldn’t cross that line, could he? He wanted to with Meg needing support and Brooklyn missing.

“It’s going to be okay. Everyone’s looking for her. At the lodge. In the yard and pastures. We’ll find her.”

Meg crossed her arms over her chest. She wore a jacket, but she had to be cold in those pajama bottoms. “We’d better start searching in here.”

Ty whistled, then called Dusty’s name. He tried again. “Wherever Brooklyn is, I don’t think she’s alone.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yes.” Again Ty was torn, between keeping his distance and wanting to comfort her. He’d tried to tell himself that everything he’d said last night had been for her own good. She didn’t want the same things. He didn’t want to hurt her. But he wished he could take every single word back. “You take the right side of the barn. I’ll look on the left.”

She threw herself into his arms. “Thanks, I needed a hug.”

Ty wanted to keep holding her and kiss her, too, but he knew that wouldn’t help them find Brooklyn. He let go of Meg, then stepped back. “There are lots of nooks and crannies where a kid and dog could hide. Nate and Rachel are checking inside the lodge. The boys are looking around the house and nearby pastures.”

Meg climbed a ladder to the second level. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

He grabbed the ladder. The thought of anything happening to either Meg or Brooklyn tore his insides apart. “Be careful.”

“I’ve got this. Look somewhere else. I won’t fall.”

Ty knew she’d been a climber. He could see she had this under control, yet he didn’t let go. The thought of Meg falling ranked up there with Brooklyn disappearing. “See if she’s up there.”

Meg rummaged around on the loft area. “I don’t see a sign of her, but the cats look like they’ve been having fun up here.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”

Meg climbed down as if she were walking on a flat sidewalk. “It’s Christmas morning. I can’t believe she’d run off without opening her presents.”

His lips parted. “Her present. Come on.”

Meg followed him into the horse barn. Dusty trotted toward them, a pink mitten in his mouth. She gasped. “That’s Brooklyn’s.” She sounded breathless.

Ty didn’t blame her. His heart beat wildly. He patted the dog. “Good boy, Dusty, where is Brooklyn?”

The dog ran down the aisle, looking back to make sure they were following. Dusty stopped in front of the last stall, the one without a wreath.

“What would she being doing in here?” Meg asked.

“This is where her Christmas present is being kept.”

Ty opened the door. Dusty ran to Brooklyn, who slept against the corner of the stall. Relief flooded him. His eyes stung. Damn hay in the air. “She’s here.”

“Thank goodness.” Meg stood next to him, surprising him by not running to her daughter. She rubbed her face. “I don’t know whether to be happy or angry that she’s sound asleep, as if nothing was going on.”

The chestnut colt rested nearby. The young horse raised his head, as if to dare them to come closer. The two, well three if you counted Dusty, seemed to have bonded in their own way.

“I wonder how she figured out her present,” Ty said. “No one but Nate, Charlie and the wranglers knew about this.”

“What present?” Meg asked.

“The colt.”

Her mouth gaped. “You got Brooklyn a horse?”

“She asked Santa for a horse.”

“She also asked Santa for her dad.”

“Then, it’s a good thing I went with the horse. She got something off her list.”

“A horse,” Meg said. “That’s generous of you.”

Ty shrugged. “Charlie has been working with this little guy. She thought he’d be perfect for Brooklyn. She’ll learn to ride on one of the gentler mares and the basics of training. By the time she’s a competent rider and he’s old enough to be ridden, the two will be a perfect match. And this way, they grow up together.”

“You’ve given Brooklyn a special gift.” Emotion filled Meg’s voice. “Thank you.”

“It’s—”

Her gaze met his. Tears flowed down her face. He reached forward to wipe them away. “You’re crying.”

“Happy tears,” she said. “And maybe a couple sad ones.”

“Meg—”

She looked away. “Don’t mind me.”

“I do.” This woman and her daughter meant more to him than anything. Never say never. He might not want a family, but he had one. Right here. He’d been too caught up in what he thought he wanted, to see what he needed, and was right below his nose. “I’ve been blind.”

“How so?”

“I love you.”

Her startled gaze flew to his. “Excuse me.”

“I love you.” He laughed, as if those were the three easiest words to say in the world. With Meg, they were. “You are an amazing woman, raising your daughter on your own, making a career for yourself, moving back home to have a better life. You’re strong and brave and smart, oh so smart. Even after my dumbass move last night, saying I wanted to be friends, you didn’t lose it or call me out on my stupidity or try to get me to change my mind. You did what was best for Brooklyn. For you. And . . . I love you.”

She stood there speechless.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked.

Meg’s chin lifted. “I love you, too.”

H
ad she really said the words aloud? Meg’s heart pounded in her chest. No one, not Dusty who lay next to a sleeping Brooklyn, or the colt who looked like he wanted to be left alone, or Ty whose warm smile turned her insides to goo, seemed to have noticed.

“So what do you want to do about this?” he asked.

Okay, he’d heard her. She wished he hadn’t. Not really. But she was . . . scared, afraid things might go wrong as they had the first time she fell in love.

“Are you sure you want to do anything?” she asked him. “I mean, it’s Christmas. Finding Brooklyn. Lots of emotion. Easy to get carried away and forget reality for a moment.”

He took her hand, laced his fingers with hers. “I haven’t forgotten anything. You and Brooklyn are my new reality. I was too afraid—I’m not sure what of—to admit that to myself until now. It was easier to pretend there was nothing between us, than acknowledge I’d fallen for you. But I have. Hard. And that’s not going to change whether it’s Christmas, Fourth of July or Halloween.”

The sincerity in his voice matched the love she saw in his eyes. Her heart danced a jig. But she needed to proceed carefully. She wasn’t the only person she had to consider.

“I was so sad last night,” she admitted. “Trying to rationalize this was for the best when my heart was breaking. This morning seemed like any other day, not Christmas. I barely slept last night.”

He kissed the top of her hand. “I tossed and turned all night, too. I hated hurting you. I’d started wondering if I’d make a mistake. When you called me this morning, I thought I had a chance. As soon as I saw you this morning, I knew I had to try to make things right, but we needed to find Brooklyn first. Now that we have, I don’t want to let either one of you go.”

This felt right, but so had other things. “I don’t want you to, but we need to go slow.”

“Slow?” he asked.

“Take our time. No rush. I’m not going anywhere. Not many places I can go with a horse.”

“That wasn’t the reason—”

“I know. It’s just . . . ” She squeezed Ty’s hand as much to reassure him as herself. “The first time I fell in love I was so young. I jumped in without any thought and took off on a fun, forbidden wild adventure. The future didn’t enter my mind. But now . . . ”

“You have to think about more than just you.”

She nodded.

“I understand,” he said. “Slow is fine. Probably better given the baggage we both carry.”

Her heart swelled with affection for this man. “Thank you.”