Cash stood in Dad's office. Except it wasn't Dad's, not anymore. Now it was just the office.

From here, he could see the last of the party guests' taillights tracking down the quarter-mile drive to the state road.

The party had wound down quickly after Delaney's departure. The snowstorm had worsened, and folks had been in a hurry to get home.

Mallory had been nowhere to be found. Neither had his buddy Maverick. Cash wasn't worried. Mallory'd been concerned over a horse earlier in the evening. She'd probably dragged Mav down to the barn—or his best friend had dragged himself. The man had a hero complex where Mallory was concerned.

Cash stared at the small, potted Christmas tree that Mallory had stuck on the edge of the desk.

I'm the maid you fired.

He couldn't get Delaney out of his head.

He let his eyes roam the room, let himself go back to earlier in his memories.

He hadn't fired her. Not really. He'd told her to get out. That wasn't the same thing.

He'd threatened her, though. Been rude. Annoyed that she'd been in his way when he'd lost ten grand in one of the accounting ledgers. Frustrated at the interruption, then at his papers being spilled across the floor. It would take that much longer to put them back in order.

He'd been a jerk. The only reason he hadn't recognized her tonight was because he hadn't looked her in the face earlier.

He could make all the excuses he wanted: he was busy, she shouldn't have interrupted him... but the reality was there.

He hadn't treated her with basic courtesy.

Mama would've tanned his hide.

Dad would've never been in this position. It didn't matter who they were, school janitor, the lowest paid guy at the sale barn... Dad took the time to really talk to everyone he came in contact with. He knew their name and their life story. Dad wouldn’t have lost the ten K, either.

Cash had never been able to live up to his old man's legacy.

And it had never bothered him. Not really.

Until now.

His eyes lingered on the last, most recent picture of his parents before they'd died. Dad and Mom had taken a trip to Cancun together that fall. They posed on the beach, arms around each other.

He'd been invited on the trip but had been deep in a coding project and unable to get away from work. At least that's what he'd told himself. He wished he'd taken the time off, gone on the trip. Why hadn't Mallory gone?

They'd been too wrapped up in their lives, hadn't known just how short time was.

He still regretted it.

Emotion surged, and he turned to the desk, swept the stupid pile of folders and papers off the surface. His action sent the papers flying in an arc, then floating crazily to the floor.

Panting, he stood above the mess. Considered sending the little Christmas tree to follow. Or giving the desk a kick.

But he did neither of those things. Instead, he sank to the floor. Putting his back to the sturdy wooden desk, he hung his head, put his hands over his burning face.

He missed his parents. He needed them.

And they were never coming back.

Dad would've told him to get off his butt and make things right with Delaney. No matter how much humble pie he needed to eat. He owed her an apology. Maybe two, if his behavior tonight had made her uncomfortable. In his mind's eye, he could still see her, scared and trembling, after he'd pulled off her attacker. That hadn't been Cash's fault, but he'd made no effort to hide his attraction to her. If he'd made her feel one-one thousandth of the same fear that idiot had, he owed it to her to say he was sorry.

If she was married, he'd made a fool of himself all night.

Was she married? She'd mentioned the wedding ring, but the way she'd looked at him, the way she’d felt in his arms on the dance floor… He'd seen through her denial to the attraction she felt.

Married women could run around. He knew that. But some sixth sense told him Delaney wasn't like that.

Or maybe that's just what he wanted to believe.

Mallory would know. She might not have an employee file on Delaney, but his sister would've done some kind of interview. She had Dad's knack for finding out all about a person.

But Mallory was nowhere to be found.

Cash sighed and started picking up the folders and papers for the second time. Wondering about Delaney didn't change what he needed to do.

As he cleaned up after himself, he swept his hand across the plush carpet, being sure to cover every inch of the floor, even under the desk.

Make things right. He could almost hear Dad's voice.

Delaney had lost something precious to her somewhere in this room. Or somewhere in the house. And he was determined to find it.

Delaney stuck the last piece of tape to the last present and pushed the gift beneath the tree. She sat at the foot of the colorfully-lighted tree. It was so late—or early, rather—that her eyes were crossing with exhaustion.

Sitting beneath the tree that was so much smaller than the one in the Trudeau's ballroom made her feel like it was a Charlie Brown tree.

It wasn't. It was a decently full fir that she'd bought from the stock in the grocery store parking lot. Evan had loved it. They'd spent an entire afternoon stringing lights and decorating it. It smelled just as heavenly as a rich person's tree!

She was just being maudlin. Christmas Eve did that to her. At least, it had done so the last three years. First losing Jonah, then Evan's diagnosis and fight with cancer.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes.

She couldn't stop thinking about Cash. The way he'd looked at her when he'd held her on the dance floor.

And the way the light in his eyes had died in those last few seconds, when she'd told him her identity, why she'd come.

It shouldn't matter.

But somehow, it did.

With a sigh, she stood. Her flannel pajama pants were so worn that the pattern had faded. But they were comfortable. The sweatshirt she'd thrown over her T-shirt was warm enough. She quickly put away the extra wrapping paper and tape and scissors, then snuck to nine-year-old Evan's doorway to peek inside.

She'd developed the habit when he'd been on his first round of chemo. She'd had an intense, urgent need to check on him before she went to bed. Sometimes her worry would wake her in the middle of the night, and she'd sneak into his room to check his breathing.

He'd thrown off the covers from his top half. His pajama shirt had ridden up to show a slice of concave belly. One arm was thrown above his head on the pillow, his expression peaceful in sleep.

She loved him. And oh, how it hurt to watch him go through the illness and the treatments.

For a few moments tonight, she'd let her worries for her son float away on a cloud of imagination. In Cash's arms, she could've been a rancher's daughter, a princess. Someone whose only worry had been what to wear to the party.

Cash's shoulders were wide enough to bear her worries.

The random thought snuck in, and Delaney blinked at her brain's audacity.

The man might've thought he’d been attracted to her before her big reveal, but not now.

She and Evan were on their own. Besides, she didn't need anyone to lean on. She had a good-as-gold best friend in Sierra. And she had herself.

But oh, for a few minutes, she'd wanted...

Cash.

She blinked away the traitorous thoughts and the hot emotion they brought and tiptoed into Evan's room.

She shouldn't, but she climbed into the narrow twin bed anyway, nudging Evan slightly so she didn't fall off the edge. Her son murmured incoherently and rolled to his side, leaving her room to snuggle.

He was probably too big for this, but her mama's heart had been through so much this year. It couldn't be wrong to hold her son close, not when she'd come so close to losing him.

Exhaustion weighted down her bones, but with thoughts of the rancher running through her brain, it was a long time before she fell asleep.