Hanna’s daughter stood beside her at the breakfast table, all but quivering with excitement. “Please say yes,” Crissy begged.

It wasn’t only her daughter who turned puppy-dog eyes in her direction. Patrick had upped the ante to his most charming level of enticement as he sat kitty-corner to Hanna at the breakfast table. “Might be the only day this week nice enough to get outside, with that storm rolling in and all.”

The only one who wasn’t working his charm to convince her was Brad.

She smiled without thinking about it. He truly wasn’t a morning person. In an attempt to not be outright cranky, he sat and silently sipped his coffee, refusing to participate in any conversation he could avoid until after nine a.m.

“Why am I the one who has to make the final decision?” Hanna asked, keeping her amusement out of her voice with difficulty. “If this were a democracy, since it appears Brad is abstaining, you’d already have more than fifty percent of the votes.”

Patrick caved, looking slightly sheepish. “Everyone knows that a mother’s vote counts double compared to the rest of us.”

Brad snorted.

Nothing else, just a single snort, but that was more than his usual morning contribution, and suddenly Hanna had a deep desire to get up, storm around the table and throw herself into his arms. Maybe even tickle him until he laughed.

Although knowing him, tickles would probably change to kisses soon enough—and that was a line of thinking she needed to avoid.

Ever since she’d lost her mind in the kitchen a couple of days earlier, Brad had been careful to not push her, but he’d been watching closely. He was waiting, checking her for clues, and while she was really tempted to keep moving forward, the momentary pause had been good.

It gave her a chance to consider what was best, not only for now but for the future. For both her and Crissy.

It was too easy to fall into hopeful dreaming and wishful thoughts. Following through with what her body craved would be wonderful for the short-term, but considering what Crissy hoped to get for a Christmas present, Hanna knew she needed to take a few more deep breaths before committing any further.

Maybe this was right. Maybe Brad was the one for them, but she knew moving faster than they should might cause a world of hurt. She cared too much for Brad, and Patrick as well, to want that for any of them.

But this? The request before her right now was a kind of pleasure very much in line with good memories of the best kind.

She examined the two mischievous elves before her, one old, one young, and offered them an enormous, dramatic sigh. “Very well, if we must have a tobogganing party, I suppose—”

Patrick might’ve squealed louder than Crissy.

“Only you have to help make the calls to invite people,” Hanna warned her daughter. “And you have to help set up everything and clean up any messes with me.”

Crissy was already running off to grab the phone as Patrick pulled out a sheet of paper and began jotting down names.

Hanna met Brad’s amused gazed. “You realize if you wanted to say no, now is too late.”

“It’s fine.”

A whole two words. Wow, that was a record. “I’m going to remember this for the future,” she warned him. “Anytime I want something from you, I’ll just ask for it first thing in the morning.”

The flash of fire in his eyes warned he was going to take her offer exactly the way he wanted to. “Please do.”

He finished his drink and got up from the table, slapping a hand down on his father’s shoulder before leaving the room.

Organizing the party took less than an hour. Shortly after noon, an assortment of cars and trucks were pulling up outside Lone Pine ranch. Once he’d woken up enough, Brad joined them and did more than his share to help get things ready.

No one came with empty hands, either. Little girls scattered with Crissy out to the barn to play with the kittens until it was time to load up the sleigh and head up the hill. Patrick watched with a contented grin as friends poured through his front door, pausing to say hello and wish him holiday greetings.

Tamara had made the trip and settled beside him as the action continued to flow into the kitchen.

Hanna paused to speak to her. “Glad you’re feeling well enough to join in,” she offered.

Her friend offered a weak grin. “If I disappear, don’t take it personally. Just can’t stand the thought of missing the girls’ holiday excitement. I don’t want all their memories of the coming baby to be about how sick I was.”

Hanna planted her fists on her hips. “They’re going to remember their mama took good care of the baby even before it came out of her belly. Kids are resilient,” Hanna reminded her.

“Good point.” Tamara offered a sincere hug. “Thanks.”

By the time everyone had been loaded onto the sleigh, there was enough of a crowd that Walker and Caleb mounted up on a couple of extra horses. Patrick sat with the children on the hay bales. Hanna got squeezed between Tamara and Brad, her legs tight against his. When he put both reins in one hand and slipped the other behind her back, it took her at least three minutes to start breathing normally again.

She was in his arms, exactly where she wanted to be—no more lying to herself. The idea still scared her to death, but she ached for his touch, for more of his kisses and his caring.

He pulled the sled to a stop beside the old mountain cabin and everyone unloaded, setting up sleds and taking picnic baskets into the wooden structure. They got the stove going and hot cider warming on the surface, and for the next hour or so children flew up and down the hill with the adults helping pull the sleds to the top again.

It was pleasure of a most innocent sort, filled with happiness and a sweet joy. Hanna took the time to examine her friends’ faces, thrilled to see they were enjoying themselves thoroughly.

Even Tamara, who’d retreated to a bale tucked into the shelter of the cabin. Her daughters were alternating sitting with her and sliding, and when Caleb strode over and knelt by her feet, stroking her cheek with visible love in his touch, Hanna had to look away.

Spotting Brad staring at her did nothing to calm the pounding in her heart. She wanted—

“Mommy. Come play,” Crissy demanded, catching her hand and pulling her into the delighted bevy of little girls. Hanna snuck a final peek at Brad. He winked at her, and then she was caught up in Crissy’s laughter.

Snow began to fall. Big fluffy flakes at first, festively covering everything like the best of homemade holiday decorations, before coming down thicker and thicker. Hanna whirled on the spot, the happiness inside her spinning free. She caught snowflakes on her tongue with her daughter as Sasha and Emma and Crissy’s other friends made snow angels.

It was a situation far removed from fear and decisions and momentous events—and Hanna wanted it to go on forever.

He’d been watching her. No, he’d been staring, unable to look away as she danced with her friends and the children, sheer joy in every step.

Someone cleared their throat.

Brad shook himself, glancing to the side to see Walker eyeing him, amusement on his face.

“Don’t bother saying it,” Brad warned.

“You don’t want to hear that the hot chocolate is ready? When did we outlaw talking about holiday drinks?”

Brad took a step closer and let their shoulders bump, hitting Walker hard enough the other man spun. The snow under his feet shifted and his feet flailed. He landed on his ass in the snow.

Even as he laughed Walker rolled, taking Brad’s feet out from under him, the two of them wrestling like they were children again, out in the schoolyard in those early elementary years.

Of course, the instant they started roughhousing, the kids found it far too entertaining to stay away, piling on top until there was snow down the back of Brad’s collar and Walker had piles of the white stuff on both shoulders.

“Inside to warm up,” Hanna sang out. “Come on, girls. And boys,” she said, smiling directly at Brad.

Crissy and the rest of them took off with squeals, pigtails and scarves flying as they slid back into the warmth of the cabin.

Walker held out a hand and Brad grasped it, the two of them leveraging each other to vertical. “Looks as if someone’s made herself at home.”

Brad batted at Walker’s arm, pretending to knock the snow from him. “Don’t you have someone special you’re supposed to be off bothering?”

“I do,” Walker said with a satisfied grin, glancing at Ivy who was bundled up head to toe, her puffy blue coat shining like a bit of sky against the pristine white. “I’m happy for you,” he offered.

“Don’t get too excited,” Brad warned. “Things are going well, but I’m not getting ahead of myself.”

Walker leaned in close, sliding an arm around Brad and patting him firmly on the shoulder. “I hear you, but I think you’re pretty much in a good place. Of course that’s why, since Hanna doesn’t have anyone here to do this on her behalf, I’m just going to warn you now. If you do anything to hurt either one of those girls, Ivy has given me specific instructions to drag you into the arena and tie you under a bull.”

“Women are so bloodthirsty,” Brad complained. “They look innocent, but they’re prone to violence far quicker than we are. Hanna gave my brother a bloody nose. Walloped him with her brush.”

His friend laughed, guiding him toward the cabin. “Good. I like to hear that she can take care of herself.”

Brad did too, but what he really wanted was to be the one caring for her. Not because Hanna was incapable but because something deep inside him longed to care for them both.

They’d set up a fire pit outside the cabin, logs placed around for seating. Walker offered Ivy a sly wink before leading the group in singing Christmas carols. As Hanna settled at his side, Brad wondered how much longer he was going to have to be patient.

When Crissy wandered over, slid into his lap, and rested her head on his chest, Brad found it hard to breathe.

Especially when Hanna glanced upward, her gaze drifting over her daughter and up to his face. She was thinking hard, sort of smiling and sort of not, but when she tucked her mitts under his elbow and leaned her head against his arm, something went pop inside him, as if one of the old-fashioned holiday dinner crackers had gone off. Tightness relaxed as hope swept in.

Across the fire, Walker and Ivy were both smirking, other friends as well looking at them—he, Hanna and Crissy—with approval.

Honest truth, Brad wanted something special for Christmas, but he knew damn well he didn’t always get what he wanted. Wanting something didn’t make it so.

He knew that from a couple years earlier when his mom had gotten sick. It didn’t matter how many Christmas wishes they’d made, she’d still faded from them, leaving his dad alone after so many years together.

It didn’t seem to matter how often he’d wished for his brother to stop fighting and come back home. And it hadn’t changed things at all to wish that his father hadn’t been hurt. Brad was old enough to know that sometimes life didn’t work out the way he wanted.

He glanced down at the woman at his side and at the little girl in his arms, and in spite of knowing the truth, it didn’t change a thing. Sometimes the world was cruel and bad things happened. Sometimes he didn’t get what he wanted. But the things that really mattered—the ones that absolutely had to come true—he’d fight for them, no matter what.

Which was why he was going to do everything he could to make this moment a reality forever.