“Unlike her older brother,” Darcy teased.
“You got that right. I don’t hate them, but I don’t get the fascination. And why anyone would want to spend his life looking after cows is beyond me. They’re stupid and they smell.”
She laughed. “You’re mocking one of Montana’s prime industries.”
He winked at her, then returned his attention to the road. “Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a decent steak as much as the next guy, but that doesn’t mean I want to meet my meal on the hoof.”
“It’s a good thing you headed off to New York when you did,” she said. “Otherwise your blasphemy would have offended the neighbors.”
“Maddie rags on me all the time,” he admitted. “She says that I couldn’t have been born here. That our folks must have found me on the side of the road somewhere back East but were just too embarrassed to tell anyone.”
Darcy laughed. “She sounds like fun. I’d like to meet her sometime.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing her myself.” He frowned. “It’s been a while. After our parents died we clung to each other. We had a great aunt. June was an incredible woman. We thought she was about as old as the hills, but in a cool way.” He shrugged. “She started visiting us. First it was for a long weekend, then for a couple of weeks. Finally, she was spending more time at our place than at hers. When I finished college, she moved in so that I could head off to New York.”
“You have some wonderful memories to counteract the bad ones.”
“I guess I do.”
She wondered if he would use her to counteract his memories of Sylvia or if she would have a place of her own.
“What happened to your house?” she asked instead. “The one you grew up in?”
“We sold it when Aunt June died and split the money. Aunt June left us what she had. I gave that all to Maddie to buy her truck and trailer, along with the gear she needed for her rodeo career.”
“It sounds like you two had to grow up fast, too,” she said. “Losing significant people has a way of doing that.”
“It taught me to be self-sufficient,” Mark said. “I regret the losses but not the lessons.”
She’d learned something different, Darcy thought sadly. Instead of being autonomous, she wanted to belong—to be a part of something bigger than herself. She doubted that Mark shared her desire for home and hearth—a family. He’d already learned his lesson on that one.
* * *
Christmas Eve was perfect. The night was cold and clear, with a promise of new snow for Christmas morning. The dinner had turned out well, although there was enough ham left over to feed half of Whitehorn. Now she and Mark cuddled together on the sofa, staring at her perfect tree, watching the lights twinkle in the semidarkness.
“That tree needs to go on a diet,” Mark said.
“And here I was thinking this was a perfect moment,” she complained. “The tree is not fat. It’s a little broad through the base is all.”
“It’s pear shaped.”
Darcy squinted at the tree. Okay, so there was a disproportionate amount of branches at the bottom. Still it was her tree and she loved it.
“If you’d let me get the really tall one, you wouldn’t be complaining that the tree was fat.”
He kissed her lightly. “If I’d let you get the tall one, we would have had to put it outside to make it fit. It would have made decorating it a cold proposition.”
Darcy opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d started to tell him that next time he could pick. She bit back the words, not knowing if there was going tobea next time. She wanted there to be. She couldn’t imagine herself loving anyone else the way she loved him.
“Come on,” he said, slipping off the sofa and settling on the ground in front of the tree. “Let’s open presents.”
“Okay.”
Darcy sat crossed-legged next to him, trying not to feel too nervous. She hadn’t ever bought a man a present before. The goofy gifts she’d given boyfriends in high school and college didn’t seem to count. She’d thought for a long time, not sure what Mark would like. Her first idea had been something to spruce up his bare apartment, but that had seemed too impersonal.
Mark sorted through the packages. She’d been eyeing the big box he’d brought over with some trepidation. It was the size of a large laundry basket, but she didn’t think that would be his idea of a gift.
“I see several for Dirk,” he said. “What did you get him?”
