December 31

Karen wrapped an arm around Taylor’s neck, looking into her sympathetic big brown eyes. “Males are more trouble than they’re worth, aren’t they, girl?”

Taylor Swift, aka Taylor the alpaca, tossed her head, flicking back the long silky locks which characterized the Suri breed.

“You’re right.” She stroked Taylor’s back and the animal leaned into her side. “I should just shake it off, right?”

Normally her own joke would’ve at least raised a small smile.

Not today.

Not yesterday either. And not since she’d spent three days in Invercargill with the Nicholsons before catching a flight home to Christchurch. With them, she’d made an enormous effort to smile, laugh, and join in—all the time keeping her mind from wandering in the direction of a sexy stargazer. It wasn’t until she’d arrived home to an empty house, switched on the radio, and the classic David Bowie song “Starman” came on that she allowed herself to fall to pieces.

Taylor sniffled around her hand, searching for the little snack pellets that Karen would pass out to the tourists to hand-feed the herd when they arrived.

“Not yet, sweetie. Sally’ll be bringing the last tour group out to your paddock at any moment.” She glanced over the long grass to the outbuildings where the tour groups would get changed into a selection of gumboots. Nobody wanted to be walking around in mud and llama poo in their Jimmy Choo’s. Another little joke that should make her smile, but didn’t.

Beyoncé wandered over and butted her head against Karen’s arm. The herd had picked up on her mood since she’d been back, and kept close to her in solidarity and comfort. The phone in her coverall pocket sat like a deadweight. She’d debated earlier in the day whether she should send Art a Happy New Year’s Eve text, but decided against it. A clean cut was probably best.

A few of the other grazing females stopped cropping grass and stared behind Karen. That was her cue to put her game face on and greet Sally and the last guests for the year. Karen turned, smile fixed in place, and a friendly “Kia ora” on her lips for the tourists who always got a kick out of being greeted in the Māori language.

Only it wasn’t Sally and some tourists tromping through the paddock. It was a solitary man.

He wore a white T-shirt that fit like a second skin, and chunky black gumboots that drew attention to his long, lean legs encased in faded blue denim. Everything in a mile radius that was female studied his progress across the grass with appreciation. Much appreciation.

Karen’s heart hippity-hopped around her chest, slamming over and over against her vocal cords, leaving her speechless.

Wait—what? Where was her tour group?

She released Taylor, who, being a little skittish around men, trotted off toward the creek that ran through the paddock. Art stopped on the opposite side of the creek where a line of stepping stones were in place for tourists to cross. His light blue eyes scanned her from head to toe, and her spine stiffened, knowing what he’d see.

Hair in a simple braid. Gray coveralls with grass stains on the knees and a splatter of mud on her hip. Multicolored polka dot rubber boots on her feet, because she was quirky enough to want to stand out by not wearing the traditional Kiwi black gumboot. Bags under her eyes that not even heavier-than-usual makeup could hide.

She was a hot mess, while he looked like hokey-pokey ice cream on a summer’s day. Not splashing through the creek to wrap her arms around his neck and lick his face was a testament to her self-control.

“Hi,” she said. “How are you?” Listen to her. So cool, casual, seeing you doesn’t affect me in the slightest.

“Better now.” The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Can I come over to you? Or will you sic your llama guards on me?”

“Actually, I’m expecting a tour group at any moment.” She offered up a polite smile. “Sorry.”

Hashtag not sorry.

Because without the barrier of the creek, which really wasn’t much of a barrier, she didn’t trust her self-control as much as she liked. She’d missed him. Crazily so.

He nodded, pursing his lips. His kissable lips—stop it, Karen.

“The thing is, I am your tour group. I booked it out, and your boss said you can finish early.”

“She did, did she?” Sally did have a soft spot for charming young men, and Karen bet Art could win the charming stakes when he put his mind to it.

“It being New Year’s Eve and all. On the cusp of new beginnings and maybe even a little magic.”

Fisting her hands on her hips, Karen narrowed her eyes at him. “Thought you didn’t believe in magic?”

Art stepped onto the first stepping stone. “That was before I met you.”

She snorted, which startled Lady Gaga who had come alongside her to eyeball the stranger for possible snacks. “Yeah, right. Because I had so much influence on you during the five days I was in Tekapo.”

He didn’t respond to this accusation, merely crossed to the next stone, lifting his arms slightly in order to balance. It’d serve him right if he slipped and fell into the creek’s chilly water. Would she help him out? Or laugh along with her llamas?

But he reached the other side without incident, and stalked toward her. Karen backed up a step, bumping into Lady Gaga’s sturdy side, the drama llama’s appetite and curiosity overcoming her fright. A couple of their bolder alpacas, Cher and Tina, crowded around her, effectively hemming her in.

Figuring the best defence was a quick offence, especially when matters of the heart were concerned, Karen channeled the real Cher and Tina Turner attitude. “Thought you were working tonight?”

“I got someone to cover my shift,” he said.

“Why are you here?” Her pulse beat triple-time. She had only a few past failed relationships she could learn from, but logic drew her to the conclusion that Art hadn’t come all this way to break off something they hadn’t officially started. And that set butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“It’s all Charlie’s fault.”

Huh? Not quite the response she’d expected. “How is you being here your brother’s fault?”

Art took another step toward her, and Tina and Cher arched their graceful necks forward to investigate his pockets.

He laughed—a slightly nervous laugh. “They’re not going for the family jewels, are they?”

She shook her head and he closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his. She looked up into his Lake Tekapo blue eyes, and her grasp of the English language was lost.

“I missed you.” He squeezed her hands, his voice roughened by an unidentifiable emotion.

“I missed you, too.” The words squeezed out in a whispered rush. “But back to Charlie. Is he okay?”

His gaze softened on her face. “He’s fine. My little brother is the smarter of the two of us.”

Charlie who, although he was in a wheelchair, seemed happy, well-adjusted, and head-over-heels in love with his fiancée. “Yeah, I think he is.”

Art grinned, none of his smile’s potency lost in the five days since she’d seen him last. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Anyway, he called me two days ago and afterward I realized something. If Charlie hadn’t come with me Christmas shopping, if he hadn’t been injured, if I hadn’t reevaluated my life at that point and decided to move to New Zealand, I wouldn’t have been at Tekapo. And if I hadn’t been at Tekapo, I wouldn’t have fallen back in love with astronomy again, I wouldn’t have found what I didn’t know I was searching for, and I wouldn’t have met and fallen in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” Her heart slammed into her chest over and over. “Are you sure? I mean, how do you know?”

He tugged on her hands and she stumbled forward into the warmth of his embrace. With his arms wrapped around her waist, he spun her in a half circle then pointed to a spot in the cloudless blue sky. “Right about there,” he said, “is the Southern Cross. Remember on the tour I told you how to navigate using it?”

“Um. No. I was too busy staring at your butt because you got all scientific.”

He laughed, tapping her chin so she tilted her head back to look up. “Well, I like to believe the Southern Cross guided me to you. And even though you can’t see it right now, I know it’s been there for millions of years and I know it’ll be there for millions more. Just like my feelings for you.”

Lady Gaga bumped her nose against Karen’s hip. Karen slid her fingers into the llama’s soft coat and held on, unsure if her legs would keep her remaining upright. He loved her? Bubbles of joy replaced the butterflies in her stomach, and if it wasn’t for terrifying her herd, she would’ve let out a rebel yell of victory.

He loved her. And if that wasn’t a Christmas miracle, what was?

Art watched doubt drain from Karen’s face, and hope and wonder surge in. She didn’t say anything, her gaze scanning the horizon as if searching for the elusive star system in daylight. His heart felt as if it had crammed itself into his throat, heartbeat using his vocal cords as a punching bag. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if he’d blown it by throwing the L-word into the mix too soon? Maybe he should’ve led with, “Hey, babe. Wanna hit the pub for a New Year’s tipple?”

Then she smiled—and it was a smile that had caused him many hours of lost sleep that week. “Arthur.”

The way she said his full name sent a shiver down his spine. She rose on tiptoe and twined her arms around his neck. “Remind me this time next year to give Charlie a fruit basket to thank him for his part in sending you here.”

“Charlie doesn’t get all the credit, you know.” His brain might have been a little slow on the uptake, since it was replaying the phrase ‘this time next year’ and analyzing data that suggested Karen intended to be around in three hundred and sixty-five days’ time, but maybe…possibly… more than likely…

She brushed her petal-soft lips across his. “I know. I guess your little brother isn’t responsible for how your incredibly brilliant mind, kind heart, and superb butt made me fall in love with you, too.”

“You love me, too?” He was almost afraid to ask in case she took it back.

“Yes. To the Southern Cross and back.”

“That’d take you years to reach the nearest star.”

“Oh, shut up, Starman, and kiss me.”

He did, lifting her off her feet so her legs hooked around his hips, and holding her, knowing he’d never let her go again.

She’d far too much to learn about the solar system for them to cover it in just one lifetime.