Mistletoe Wedding Read Online Free PDF

Meg explained before he could. “A game I used to play when I was a kid.”
    “I played, too,” Ty added.
    “I’m only allowed to have soda on special occasions.”
    “That’s working great,” Meg said. “You have no cavities.”
    Brooklyn’s made a face. “I’d rather have soda.”
    Meg smiled at him, then shook her head at her daughter. “Be right back.”
    The little girl watched her mom walk away. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand grownups.”
    Him, either. He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Enjoy being a kid. We don’t always understand ourselves.”
    Chewing her pancake, she pointed to the window. No deer, only falling snow, larger flakes than before, coming down heavier.
    The quiet—well, hers—surprised him. The little girl had been chatting non-stop since the walk to the house, but she must have given into her hungry tummy. Not that he minded listening to her.
    Early mornings out with the herd meant talking with one of the other wranglers in between chores, but if Ty was working in his office, he had only Dusty, Onyx and the other barn cats for company. Oh, they talked back. Whether he understood them was another story. The animals, however, seemed to get the last word in, too. He wasn’t sure how that happened. Today was a nice change. Ty ate, finishing what remained on his plate.
    The falling snowflakes grew bigger, dancing and spinning in the sky like ballerinas with white wings. He’d better find out when the boys wanted to put up a tree in the bunkhouse. A trip to the Scott’s tree farm would be in order soon.
    Brooklyn eyed him, while she chewed. Guess he was the new view with the deer gone.
    Bet she would have fun at the tree farm. Sleigh rides and food booths. Sage Carrigan sold her delicious hot chocolate, and Rachel hawked her gingerbread kits and cookies. Not that the items didn’t sell themselves.
    With a gingerbread contest added to this year’s Marietta Stroll, Rachel could barely keep up with the demand. He hoped both Sage and Rachel would be back at Carson’s this year. They’d added to the tree farm’s festive atmosphere. One Brooklyn would enjoy and Meg . . .
    Those brown eyes of her seemed to be branded on his brain. He downed what remained in the bottom of his coffee cup. Bitter. He cringed.
    Better not mention a trip to Carson’s Tree Farm.
    Meg returned with a full plate. “I decided to try both types of pancakes.”
    Brooklyn pointed to the space across the table from them. “Sit there.”
    Meg did. “I peeked into the great room. Rachel has been busy decorating.”
    “She and Nate started last night after the guests turned in. She had to go into the shop early this morning for a Black Friday sale. The tree goes up this afternoon. The thing is huge. Somehow Nate finds a bigger one each year. Everyone will help decorate tonight.”
    Brooklyn straightened, her eyes the size of quarters. “I’ve never decorated a big tree or a live one. That sounds fun.”
    “Everyone is invited,” Ty said.
    “You mean guests,” Meg corrected.
    Her detention-hall-teacher tone bothered him. “I mean guests, friends, staff and family of all ages. We do this every year. The only differences this time are the ranch guests that will be attending and much better food. Us wranglers used to have to cook for ourselves from fall to spring, but no longer. We now have a full-time kitchen staff.”
    “I’ve never decorated a tree with other people. Only Mommy.” Brooklyn nearly jumped out of her seat. She rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait.”
    Meg stabbed her fork into her pancakes. “Don’t get too excited. Let me confirm with Nate that it’s okay to attend.”
    Ty co-owned the ranch with Nate, but she didn’t seem to realize that or care. “I said it’s fine.”
    “You told me this year was going to be different.” Tight lines around her mouth replaced her smile. “I’ll feel better this way.”
    “Different doesn’t mean long held traditions are going