“Know what? I think I’m going to like it here. Dad?”

“Hmmm?” Cody Hayes glared at the near empty conveyor belt snaking around the baggage carousel. “Huh?” He removed his Stetson and brushed a weary hand through his close-cropped hair as he watched the same three bags move on by. Again.

He hitched his carryon bag up over his shoulder. The cameras inside were his livelihood, but they’d become like lead weights over the last few days. The last few months really. He needed a break from chasing the next story around the world.

Cody had been traveling for thirty-six hours straight and was bone deep exhausted after hopping from airport to airport, as he made his way home from the other side of the globe. His last stopover in Los Angeles had been brief—just long enough to pick up his son. Then they hopped on another plane and headed to Texas for Christmas.

He was glad to be on the ground in Dallas but knew they had a good three-hour drive to the Hayes homestead outside Love. He wanted to collect their bags and drive to his parents’ home before jet lag caught up with him. Then he wanted to sleep. He was going to need at least a few hours of shut eye in order to keep up with his kid who could be a perpetual ball of curious energy.

“Dad!” The demand for attention was louder this time. “Is she an angel?”

“An angel?” Cody slid a quick glance at the eight-year-old leaning against his hip. His son had grown up, a lot, since the last time he’d seen him. What a difference a year made. Another reason to stop the globetrotting.

“Over there,” Davie said. “Do you see her?”

Cody followed the direction of the boy’s pointing finger across the baggage claim area.

Davie’s angel was bent at the waist and struggling to balance a scuffed hard sided makeup bag, like the one his mother had tucked in the attic gathering dust, with an ancient looking suitcase that appeared to be covered in dozens of old bumper stickers.

And she sparkled. Her blonde hair, shot through with glints of gold, and her snowy white coat caught every bit of the dim lights wavering through airport baggage claim and reflected it back a dozen times brighter it seemed.

Then the angel stood and turned. Cody got a look at her face. “Hell’s Bells!”

Davie gasped. “You are going to owe the swear jar a lot of money by the time we finally get back to your home,” he said.

“Our home. You’re a Hayes, too. And the homestead is home for all of us.”

The kid took that pronouncement in stride. “Do you think she’s a real angel? Or a pretend one? Because I saw a bunch of pretend one’s at the Christmas play,” Davie said.

“Sorry Davie. But that’s no angel.” Cody’s gaze remained transfixed by the woman still struggling to balance what was in her hands. “That’s the ghost of Christmas past.”

“She ain’t no ghost.” Davie made a sign of the cross and kissed his thumb, a gesture he’d seen Davie’s mother make. “Because I can’t see through her. And she looks like the angel mom puts on the top of the tree.”

The woman abandoned her struggle and blew a loose wave of hair out of her eyes. Her gaze met his, and the jolt struck his heart. She squinted and took a step closer as her jaw dropped.

“Cody?” she asked. “Cody Hayes?”

That voice hit him like an atomic blast from the past, nailing him right in the solar plexus. “Sarah.”

“You know her?” Davie asked.

Cody didn’t answer as he watched Sarah walk towards them. His feet were frozen to the linoleum floor but his heart pounded in time with her footsteps. Nearly a decade had passed since their last Christmas together, but the memories still stung like a dozen paper cuts across his heart. The sound of raised voices, broken promises, and tears of regret were a crystal-clear memory that haunted him every time the holly jolly season rolled around.

Two spots of pink washed over her cheeks as Sarah stopped in front of him. Cody shoved his hands in his pockets and wrapped his thumbs into his denim belt loops. Ten years had not changed her much. Her hair was a little brighter, and the wild, unruly layers she used to favor now fell in a single, golden wave. Her eyes, the same Texas bluebell color he remembered, were a little sadder. And her clothes were still uniquely Sarah but definitely a lot more expensive than the ones she used to wear.

“Hi, Cody,” she said. “I—"

“Why’d you say she was a ghost, Dad?”

“Ghost?” Sarah asked. Then her eyes widened and her gaze dropped to Davie, trying to hide in the folds of Cody’s battered duster. “Dad?”

“She’s not really a ghost, Davie. Sarah is an old…friend.” Friend. Future. Femme fatale responsible for grinding his heart into little bits. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. In fact, Sarah and I first met when she was eight and I was ten.”

“Are you sure she’s not a angel?” Davie asked. And the boy sounded a bit disappointed about that.

Cody laughed. “I’m positive.”

“And she’s not a ghost either?” Davie said.

“Nope. Not a ghost either.” Although this was the one woman who had haunted him most of his adult life. She was like a tiny niggling wound, a missing piece of his heart that was never fully filled with anything…with anyone else.

Davie stepped out from behind Cody, still clinging with one hand to the back of his coat and said, “I’m David Hayes Cooper. But everyone just calls me Davie.”

“Hello, Davie.” Sarah glanced between the two Hayes men. “Is your wife—your mother meeting you both here?” Her voice had the barest hitch that was almost unnoticeable. Almost.

“No wife. Just an ex of sorts,” Cody said. There was only one woman he’d really considered making his wife, and she had walked away from him, bound for the bright lights of the Big Apple. After that his poor attempts at laying down roots were dismal failures. Mostly his fault. “His mother just got married. It’s me and Davie for the holidays. We’re going to see my folks for Christmas.”

“My mom is doing a honeyed moon trip,” Davie said. “That’s why I got to come to Nana and Papa’s for Christmas this year.”

Sarah’s eyes flicked to his before her gaze returned to Davie. “I see.” But the tiny furrow between her brows told Cody she still had questions. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Davie. As your, umm, as your dad said, I’m an old friend of his. Of all the Hayes’ really.”

“I’m a Hayes. Maybe I can be your friend too?” Davie asked. “You could be my first friend in Texas.”

Sarah bent at the knees, placing herself eye level with Davie. She smiled a soft, sweet smile that used to draw every boy in the county like a moth to a bug zapper, just before they got their wings singed. “I’d like that very much Davie Hayes Cooper.”

“Kay.”

Cody crushed the battered brim of his hat as his son smiled his own gap-toothed grin and fell head over heels in puppy love with Sarah Jayne.