Laney’s heart thundered against her ribs like she was about to go over a steep set of falls in a boat with no lifejacket.

“I—” she started, only to have her voice fail her.

“It’s okay.” Graham started to retreat from her, physically and emotionally, and she hated that. Wanted him right beside her, confiding in her, helping her on this ranch.

“No,” she said quickly, her grip tightening on his one shoulder and moving her hand from his chest to behind his neck. “Don’t go.”

“What is it?”

She liked that he wasn’t demanding but still wanted to know. Those dark eyes searched hers, full of compassion and hunger and a pinch of frustration.

“I haven’t kissed a man in a long time,” she blurted out. “I’ve been divorced for three years, and it was over long before that.” She licked her lips, wishing her salivary glands hadn’t gone on vacation during this conversation.

Graham’s expression filled with kindness. “And you think you’ve forgotten how?”

She lifted that one shoulder again. “Maybe.”

“How about we try it and I’ll let you know?” His eyes glinted with danger now, with need.

She giggled. “I sort of feel like I’ve ruined the moment.”

“Not at all.” He dipped his head and ran the tip of his nose along her cheek, his lips touching the soft skin just behind her jawbone. She sucked in a breath and gripped his shoulders tighter.

If he kissed her, she felt sure she wouldn’t even be able to stay standing. Heat filled her body, making her feel like she was steaming in the sub-zero temperatures.

Graham kneaded her closer, and she’d spent a lot of time thinking about what kissing him would be like, so when he finally touched his lips to hers, she knew exactly what to expect.

At least she thought she did.

An explosion of fire burst through her, and she lifted onto her toes to make his feather light touch stronger. She matched him stroke for stroke, and she knew that all of her fantasies as a teenager were way off the mark.

So were the dreams she’d had this past year.

Because kissing Graham was so much better than anything she could’ve imagined.

Several seconds passed before he broke the connection just long enough to murmur, “You still know how to do it, Laney,” before kissing her again.

Laney sort of floated back to the lodge, not feeling the bite of the winter air until she was back inside where it was warn and she could appreciate how cold it had been outside.

“Mom, I helped Annie make lunch.”

“Hmm?” Laney looked down at the blonde angel before her, taking an extra moment to recognize the girl as her daughter. “Is it lunchtime already?”

“It was an hour ago,” Annie said, still wearing the apron from that morning. She put both hands on her hips and also wore a knowing expression.

Laney’s stomach grumbled. “I am hungry.”

“Me too.” Graham arranged his boots on the drying mat in the mudroom where he’d hung his coat too. “You didn’t have to make anything, Annie. There’re leftovers in the fridge.”

“Miss Bailey wanted grilled cheese sandwiches.” The redhead gazed fondly at Bailey and tousled her hair. “She did a great job with buttering the bread.”

Once again, guilt flowed through Laney with the force of river rapids. If they were still in their home, Bailey probably would’ve eaten cold cereal or a PB&J for lunch. Laney would’ve talked to her about it before she went out to do the chores, and she wouldn’t feel this pinch of guilt behind her heart that someone else had been taking care of her child while she kissed a handsome man by the barn.

The ghost of that kiss still lingered on her lips, but she refused to let her hands drift up to touch them.

“I’ll heat something up,” Graham said, completely oblivious to Laney’s inner turmoil. Of course he was. Bailey wasn’t his daughter, and even if she was, he wouldn’t feel the same. She knew from personal experience.

Mike had often told her she had too soft of a heart, that Bailey needed to be raised with love but that disappointment, chores, and hard times were okay too.

Well, she’d had plenty of experience with all of the above since he’d walked out on them.

“Roast beef from last night?” Graham held up a plastic container. “Or orange chicken with brown rice?”

“Orange chicken,” Laney said, pushing the guilt back and letting her interest in the food take over. “Who makes their own orange chicken? I thought you could only get that from The Magic Noodle.”

Graham made a face. “The Magic Noodle isn’t even good.” He cracked the lid on the container and stuck it in the microwave.

“Mom likes the teriyaki noodles.”

“I love noodles,” Laney admitted with a shrug and a smile. “And I’m not driving sixty minutes round-trip to Jackson for Chu’s, though it is better.” But if she had that kind of time and money, she wouldn’t have been praying all these weeks for God to send her a miracle.

As she watched Graham bustle around his kitchen, pulling out plates and silverware so they could eat, she wondered if the Lord had answered her prayers—just not in the way she’d thought they should be answered.

The rest of the day passed, with Bailey making nameplates for everyone coming into town while Laney supervised. Annie left sometime in the early evening, and Celia arrived with bags and bags of groceries.

Laney made herself useful, not quite sure what to do with empty hours. She was so used to having dozens of items on her to-do list and never quite crossing them all off. Sitting at the kitchen table while her daughter colored and she did nothing…well, Laney thought she might go mad if she had to do it for much longer.

Celia was her mother’s age, and a lifelong resident of Coral Canyon herself, so Laney donned the apron Annie had been wearing earlier that day, washed her hands, and said, “Put me to work, Celia,” with a smile that was probably one part friendliness and two parts overeager.

“Can you peel carrots and potatoes?” Celia kept unpacking the groceries.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She pointed to a ten-pound bag of russets. “All of those.” She slapped a bag of carrots about half as big. “And these.”

While peeling potatoes wasn’t high on Laney’s list of fun things to spend her time doing, she picked up the peeler and got to work. “What are you making?”

“Beef stew,” she said. “Chicken pot pie. French toast breakfast casserole. Lasagna. Stuff Graham can put in the oven and serve with rolls or bagged salad or fruit.”

“I don’t think he eats fruit.” Laney sent long strips of brown skins into the sink.

Celia laughed, the sound filling the kitchen with more life than Laney had felt in years. She smiled at the older woman.

“You’re probably right about that.” She finished chuckling and folded the reusable grocery bags. “But I heard there will be women and children here, and they should probably have access to something that isn’t brown.”

“Agreed.” She set the peeled potatoes in a pot of water so they wouldn’t discolor until Celia needed them.

She banged around the kitchen with ease, and Laney asked, “How long have you been cooking for Graham?”

“About seven months now,” she said. “You should’ve seen him when I first showed up.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue. “I thought he was going to waste away.”

Laney laughed, realizing too late that the other woman wasn’t kidding. “I saw him when he first moved here. He seemed fine.” Fine enough to call her every other day about a problem for those first couple of months.

“If you think he doesn’t eat vegetables now, you should’ve seen him when he hired me.” Celia pointed the tip of her knife in Laney’s direction though they stood yards apart. “I got him on vitamins and he’s perked right up.”

Yeah, perky was how Laney would describe him too. She shook her head at the assessment, a wry smile curving her lips. “How’s your daughter?” she asked, deciding Graham was dangerous territory for a conversation with someone as keen as Celia Armstrong. She practically ran the gossip mill in town, and Laney didn’t need her name circulating through the salons and church functions.

“Oh, Diana’s fine,” she said. “She’s got her hands full with the twins. They’ve been acting up since their dad was diagnosed.”

“And how is Devon?” Laney felt a tug of sorrow pull through her. Diana and Devon had been through so much together already. It didn’t seem fair that he had to deal with cancer now, too, after all they’d gone through to get their babies.

“About as expected.” The swish of the knife went through onions and celery, and Celia came over to get the peeled carrots. “The cancer hasn’t spread, but it’s not shrinking either.” She gave Laney a sad smile. “At least the twins can drive now, so Diana doesn’t have to do so much arranging when they have to go to the hospital for treatments.”

Laney remembered the signup sheet that had gone around at church for months to help get the twins to school or from their activities on days Diana had to drive Devon to his treatment sessions, an hour and a half away.

She never had been able to sign up and help, because it was twenty minutes just to get from the ranch to town, and she had her own daughter to take care of. At least that was how she’d justified not signing up.

“So,” Celia said, and Laney’s defenses went right up at the tone. There was just something about it. Something that said she was about to pry.

“Will you be staying at Whiskey Mountain for the holidays?”

“Oh, no.” Laney laughed, again the only one to do so, which made it awkward. “No. I’m just here until the power comes back on at my place.”

“Your power is off?”

Laney glanced up. “Yes.”

Celia frowned and went back to cubing meat. “I haven’t heard of any power outages.”

“I have private lines that hook to the county,” Laney said. “I’m sure I just need someone to come look at them.” At least she hoped so. She didn’t need another bill, or another worry to add to the ones she already had about the animals freezing, or the pipes bursting, or how she’d explain to Bailey that Santa would find them here at the lodge if they couldn’t get home in time for Christmas.

“How are you and Graham getting along?” Celia asked next, and Laney froze. The vegetables sizzled on the stove several paces away, where Celia worked, the scent of onions and butter so homey to Laney’s nose.

“Fine,” she took too long to say.

“Mm hm.”

Laney glanced up in time to see the knowing look on Celia’s face, almost like she could tell that Laney had experienced the best kiss of her life only hours ago.

“He’s a bit of a beast, to be honest,” Laney said, hoping to deflect some of the tension. “Don’t you think?”

Celia laughed and dropped the meat in the pot, where it hissed when it hit the hot surface. She added a liberal amount of salt and pepper as she said, “He’s tame-able, though. Has a good heart. You stick around long enough, and you’ll see.”

Laney had already seen that, but she did wonder if he knew how demanding he was, or how some of his “requests” came off.

Thankfully, Celia moved on to something else, some rumor that had been going around since Halloween, and Laney was able to barely listen as she relived the kiss over and over again.