By the end of the week, Cody was at his wits end. He couldn’t decide if he and Sarah were spending too much time together or not enough. He was torn between telling her they needed to cut their losses, agree to go their separate ways, and telling her he never wanted to let her go. That last part scared the boots off a cowboy nomad like him.

So far, this week, he’d watched Davie huddle up in the treehouse with Sarah. They’d made a daily trek to this place as Sarah filled his son with stories of their childhood adventures. And she’d marked off Davie’s height then helped him carve his name in the wall next to the slash mark. Davie had been thrilled to see he and Cody were almost the same height at age eight.

He’d watched Davie and Sarah, heads together and bent over an old book of recipes, as they tried to bake an apple pie with the apples they’d picked together.

He’d watched them make plans to pick berries in the spring and try their hand at a cobbler too. And when Sarah had left that day, Cody reminded Davie that the time here in Love was temporary, and Sarah might not always be around. He wanted to protect the boy from the heartbreak of loss.

Davie nodded and said, “I know dad. But sometimes you just need to stop a bit, and enjoy the people you are rooted with right now.”

That had hit Cody in the heart and sent his mind spinning into the realm of choices and possibilities.

And one of those was sitting opposite his son. Davie sat holding a needle looped through one end of a long string while Sarah sat at the other end. They threaded popcorn down the string together, making garland for the tree they’d dug out and brought inside for Christmas. After the holiday, they would replant the tree, leaving things like the garland for the birds to eat.

“Davie,” Cody’s mother called from the kitchen. “How about helping Nana test these cookies? See if they are good enough to leave out for Santa tomorrow night. Papa’s not sure if they are just right yet.”

“Yeah!” Davie stood then watched as the garland unraveled from his lap. Face crestfallen he said, “I can’t Nana. I have to finish the garland sewing.”

“Let your father finish that. These cookies have to be kid tested,” she said.

Davie handed Cody the needle and said, “Sarah knows how to sew real good. She can teach you how to sew the corn without breaking the pops.”

“I’m sure she can, son. Go test those cookies for Nana.” Cody watched his son run for the kitchen.

As Davie left the room, Sarah turned to Cody and said, “What bur has been under your saddle the last few days?”

Cody sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve been so, I don’t know, distant, I guess.”

“Grumpy is more like it. Are you having second thoughts? About what we discussed, I mean?”

“Second, third and fourth,” Cody admitted. “I’m not sure I want to rock the boat. In fact, I’m beginning to think I might want to get off the boat, step onto to dry land for a bit, and see what grows. I’m just not sure this is the right place.”

“I can understand that,” Sarah said. “I’ve been trying to figure out if I planted my roots in the right place, too.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but do you want to talk about it?” Cody asked. “I’ll listen while we work. No judgements, I promise.” He turned from her gaze, picked up the needle, and threaded a piece of popcorn down the garland string his son had started.

* * *

Sarah watched his rugged hands delicately threading popcorn as she searched for words in the silence that descended between them.

“I’m selling my store,” she said in a rush. “And I’m not sure what I’m returning to anymore. What I’m returning for.”

Shock flittered through his eyes as his gaze shot to hers. “Why?” he asked.

“What?”

“Why are you selling your store?” he asked. “Why are you doubting yourself? I mean, you’ve built something amazing in SoHo.”

She chuckled, a bittersweet sound. “How would you know? You’ve never even stepped foot in New York, let alone my store in SoHo.”

“It has to be magic if you created it, Sarah.” Cody’s voice was rock solid positive, like he truly believed what he said. “Tell me about your store.”

“It’s really a boutique on the edge of SoHo. An up and coming edge. I stock one of a kind re-designered goods.”

“Re-designered? What’s that?”

Sarah laughed. “Re-designered is a term I coined. I buy designer clothes that have seen better days. Stuff from estate sales and I have several of those haul your junk away places I work with.”

Cody’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “And you give them the Sarah Jayne retouch.”

She nodded. “Something like that,” she said. “I patch and repair what is salvageable to sell. What can’t be fixed I take apart, mix, and match to create other garments.”

“Who comes into your store? Customers I mean.”

“Mostly women looking for a statement piece. Something that will set them apart, mark them as a trend setter in a classy Kate Middleton sort of way.”

“And you like that.” His voice was sure and certain.

“Yeah, I do. I really like matching a woman to something perfect, something just for her. Something that makes her feel…”

“Beautiful,” Cody said. “You make them feel beautiful about who they are. That sounds perfect for you.”

Sarah nodded. “It’s kind of perfect. But there is still a part of me that wishes for something different than what I have in New York.”

“What kind of different?”

She ducked her head, swallowed hard. “Something like what my sister has,” Sarah said quietly.

“Like Mary. All the travel and—”

Sarah shook her head. “Not Mary. Cami.”

“The soldier’s wife with a half dozen kids?” Cody asked.

“She does not have six kids. She has four. Although they sometimes seem like a small army when they’re all together,” she admitted. “But I meant the husband and kids bit of Cami’s life.”

Cody’s brows raised, and his mouth dropped open but no words came.

Sarah laughed. “Stupid, huh? Maybe that’s why I got engaged to Richard.”

“Engaged? Since when?”

“We aren’t engaged anymore,” Sarah said. “And that’s a good thing because he wasn’t really who I was looking for. He just…caught me at a weak moment, and I said yes before I’d thought things through.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Sarah I know.”

“I came to my senses pretty quickly,” she said. “And I know I don’t want to marry just anyone. But I’m thinking I do want to get married. I do want that someday soon.”

“With the right someone?”

“Yes.”

“Food for thought,” Cody said.

“Did I hear someone mention food?” Cody’s mom asked as she bustled into the room with a tray full of warm cookies and mugs full of hot chocolate.

Cody stood and took the tray from his mother, carrying it to the coffee table.

Sarah made room on the top, moving their decorating bits out of the way. “This smells heavenly, Mrs. Hayes.”

“Everybody grab a mug and some cookies. Then we’ll get that tree decorated.” Ellen Hayes marshaled the troops and put everyone to work. In just a few hours, the Hayes house was alive with the spirit of Christmas.

Once they were finished, Cody ushered Davie up to bed, and Sarah collected the dishes, taking them into the kitchen to wash. “I’ve got this, Mrs. Hayes. Why don’t you and Mr. Hayes relax a bit.”

“Thank you, dear. I think I’ll see if I can get Carl to head off to sleep. He tires much more easily since his stroke, and I don’t want him to overdo things when he’s finally on the mend.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Hayes.” Sarah turned on the tap and began filling the sink, adding a dollop of soap to the warm water.

Ten minutes later, the dishes were done and on the rack to dry. Cody came down the stairs as Sarah gathered her coat and car keys.

“Spend the day with me tomorrow?” he asked.

“I’ve spent every other day since I arrived with you and Davie. Of course, I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Not me and Davie. My parents want to take their grandson to see Santa, and Davie wants to buy a few presents he doesn’t want me to see,” Cody said. “So, spend the day with me. And maybe the night too?”

Sarah held his gaze, saw the promises he wanted to make, the problems that stood between them, and took a leap of faith. “Yes.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“All right then.” He reached for her coat, held it while she shrugged into it, and then turned her to face him. Holding her gaze, he carefully fastened each button then tied the belt at her waist. Hands on her hips, he guided her back two steps to the center of the room.

Under the mistletoe, in the middle of his family home, he kissed her. This time his kiss was gentle and sweet. This time his kiss was full of sentimentality and soft promises. This time his kiss was tinged with the ghostly hint of Christmas future. And she was afraid to believe.

“More food for thought,” he said when they came up for air.

Then he walked her to her car. He helped inside, closed the door and waved her off into the night.

Sarah made it home to Aunt Jo’s on autopilot. “Thank heavens the road was empty,” she muttered as she parked and locked her car. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed now and wish for tomorrow to arrive as soon as possible.