“Don’t take it personally,” Sophie says as she joins me at the back of the SUV. “She’s always like that.”
“Like what?”
“Grumpy and defensive,” Sophie says. “Even before we ruined her life by existing after Mom left, she’s been like this. It’s like she’s trying so hard to be perfect, she doesn’t realize that everything’s not always her fault.”
“She seems to have no problem blaming everything on me.”
“Huh.” Sophie studies me, a slight smile rising. “Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe that means she trusts herself around you.”
“Or maybe it just means she doesn’t give a shit what I think of her.”
Sophie smirks. “Language.” Then she pats my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll figure out how to win her over.”
***
The walkway up to the farmhouse is lined with bushes, all covered in a light dusting of snow. There’s a festive wreath on the door, and Christmas music plays loud enough that I can hear it as soon as I step onto the porch.
Laughter rolls out and smacks me so hard I freeze in place, stunned. That’s Gentry’s laughter, and it sounds real and relaxed. I haven’t heard her laugh like that since we were kids.
I unfreeze quickly and hurry into the house to see an older woman with short silver hair, smiling fondly at Gentry, both Sophie and Emily staring at their sister like they don’t recognize her.
Gentry is gorgeous, chin tilted slightly, eyes sparkling, as her laugh drifts into a contented smile.
“Glad someone finds my old lady jokes funny,” the woman says.
“Very funny,” Gentry says. “I really needed that.”
“Clearly,” the woman says. She turns and notices me. “You must be Levi Sullivan.” She holds out an elegant hand. “Josephine Winters. You can call me Jo. Everyone else does.”
I take her warm, calloused hand in mine, and she gives it a firm shake. “You can call me Levi. This is a beautiful house.”
Now that I’m distracted from Gentry, I can appreciate the intricate moldings and worn but sturdy hardwood floors. A fire burns in the next room in a large fireplace, and Christmas greenery lines every available surface.
“Thank you,” Jo says. “I’m quite fond of it. When our mayor started talking about the need for visitors to be able to stay in town overnight, it just made sense to convert my place into a bed-and-breakfast. I don’t enjoy being here alone much, anyway.”
“Is this really a reindeer farm?” Emily asks.
“It sure is,” Josephine says. “After I show you to your rooms, we can go meet the reindeer if you’d like.”
Emily looks at Gentry, pleading in her eyes. “Can we?”
She looks so much like a child in this moment, it’s hard to believe she was drunk less than twenty-four hours ago. An odd protective instinct floods me, and I add keeping an eye out for her to my list of things to do to help Gentry whether she likes it or not.
“Not right now,” Gentry says. “Brodie’s waiting for us.”
Jo’s face pinches just the tiniest bit before it clears. “I’m sure he’s got a lot on his plate planning the wedding of the century. But the reindeer aren’t going anywhere. As soon as you have a free moment, come find me and we’ll go see them.”
“Okay,” Emily says, looking crestfallen, but not arguing. The set to her jaw makes me think she’s definitely going to at least complain.
“Ready to see your rooms?” Jo asks, pasting on a cheerful smile.
“Sure,” Gentry says.
All three of the rooms are upstairs. The kids are sharing a room with twin beds, and Gentry and I have our own rooms with double beds.
“All four of you will have to share the one bathroom on this floor,” Jo says. “I hope that’s all right. Eventually, I’m going to add another bathroom, but we aren’t quite there yet.”
“That’s fine with me,” Gentry says, looking over at me. “Levi’s the one who might have a problem sharing a bathroom with three women. Maybe he’d be happier downstairs.”
