Chapter 30
Nestled deep in the Rocky Mountains, the picturesque ski lodge was perched high on a bluff that overlooked rolling hills blanketed in sparkling snow. The day after Thanksgiving, the mountains would be filled with skiers zipping and swerving down the steep slopes.
But for today, the whitewashed landscape was stunningly beautiful and serene.
Inside the luxurious cabin, a cozy fire roared in the twenty-foot fireplace, and the sounds of festive holiday cheer permeated every room, along with the fragrant aromas wafting from the large kitchen, where dinner preparations were under way.
Mama Wolf bustled about with pots and pans, rattling off orders like an army general. The other occupants of the room—Dinah, Georgina, Winnie, Maya and Zora—obeyed the family matriarch’s commands without hesitation, and the result of the women’s combined efforts promised to be a Thanksgiving feast to rival all others.
Surveying the harmonious scene from where she stood at the picture windows in the living room, Prissy smiled contentedly. She’d been helping with dinner preparations when the appealing sounds of rowdy male laughter had lured her to the windows that overlooked the sprawling front lawn, where the menfolk’s smash-mouth football game had evolved into an equally competitive snowball fight.
As Prissy watched with quiet amusement, Manning nailed Magnum squarely in the chest with a huge snowball, drawing roars of laughter and sympathetic groans from the others. Grinning triumphantly, Manning pointed at his brother’s stunned face and declared smugly, “Payback for yesterday.”
Taking pity on his younger son, Stan sauntered over and draped a consoling arm around Magnum’s shoulders. As their heads bent conspiratorially together, Manning eyed them with a wary grin, bracing himself for any retaliatory sneak attacks. Meanwhile, Michael and Marcus snuck up behind Sterling and playfully tackled him to the snowy ground. Sterling bellowed with laughter as he wrestled with his sons, a sight that warmed Prissy’s heart and brought a tender smile to her face.
Lifting her gaze to the bright blue sky, she imagined that somewhere up in heaven, Bishop Wolf was looking down upon his descendants and beaming with pride.
“Beautiful sight to behold, aren’t they?”
Prissy turned to watch as she was joined by her mother, an attractive mocha-toned woman in her late fifties who was dressed comfortably in a burgundy cowlneck sweater and gray slacks that flattered her shapely figure.
Prissy grinned teasingly at her. “Uh-oh. Did Mama Wolf send you over here to get me?”
Dinah chuckled. “Actually, she gave me permission to come over here and join you. Wasn’t that generous of her?”
Prissy laughed. “You know Mama Wolf doesn’t play around when it comes to her Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. I always feel privileged just to be allowed in the kitchen with her, since everyone knows she can whip up a feast in her sleep.”
“I know. I always learn something new when I cook with her.” Smiling, Dinah draped an arm affectionately around her daughter’s shoulders as they stared out the windows, watching as Mason chased after Theo, his gleeful shrieks ringing through the air as he misfired snowballs at his retreating uncle.
Prissy smiled at her tall, ruggedly handsome brother, who was presently bundled up from head to toe like the others. “Theo’s looking more and more like Daddy every day, isn’t he, Mama?”
“He is,” Dinah agreed with a soft, poignant smile. “I was just telling him that the other day. And the girls are looking more and more like you.”
“I know.” Prissy grinned. “Winnie was just complaining to me about that, saying how unfair it is that she’s the one who had to carry the twins, eat for three and endure labor for over twenty-four hours. She said the least God could have done was allow her daughters to look like her. I told her not to be too mad at God, because the girls’ resemblance to me was His way of compensating me for never having any daughters of my own.”
Dinah smiled. “That should make her feel better.”
“I think it did.” Prissy chuckled wryly. “After reminding me that Maya and Zora would be spending their spring break with us, she joked that I’d be cured of pining for a daughter after a week of dealing with the girls’ temper tantrums and dramatic outbursts.”
Prissy and Dinah laughed.
As their mirth subsided, they resumed watching the snowball battle being waged outside.
Resting her head against her mother’s shoulder, Prissy sighed contentedly and declared, “I love Thanksgiving.”
“As you should,” Dinah murmured. “You have a lot to be thankful for.”
“I know.” Prissy smiled quietly, reflecting on the conversation they’d had earlier that morning when they went for a walk along the scenic trail near the cabin. Prissy had bared her soul, telling her mother everything that had transpired between her and Stan over the past several months.
At the end of their conversation, as they’d headed back to the cabin, Dinah had stopped and cradled Prissy’s face between her gloved hands as she gently pronounced, “Nothing will ever come between you and Stan, darling, because you belong together. We all remember that the day you met him was supposed to be your last day at the high school because I’d decided to transfer you to the girls’ preparatory academy, which was a better school. But then you crossed paths with Stanton on your way to class, and everything changed. I’ll never forget the way you came home floating on cloud nine, and you told me that you wanted to stay at the high school because you might have just met the man of your dreams.”
Prissy had grinned ruefully at her mother. “I was only sixteen. What did I know?”
Dinah had turned and gestured toward the cabin, where Stan had just stepped out onto the wide porch, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he quietly contemplated the scenic mountain view.
“Apparently,” Dinah said with an intuitive smile, “you knew plenty.”
As a cold gust of wind intruded upon Prissy’s reverie, she glanced around to watch as the menfolk spilled into the cabin—laughing, stamping snow from their boots and removing gloves, knit caps and heavy coats before making a beeline to the fireplace to warm themselves by the crackling fire.
Even as Stan bantered and joked with the others, his dark eyes sought Prissy out. Her heart somersaulted when their gazes connected and he sent her one of those lazy, crooked smiles meant just for her. Even after all these years, she marveled that Stanton Wolf could still make her heart somersault.
As they stared across the room at each other, she thought of the way things had unfolded over the past few days. They’d weathered the storm together, had survived the perilous flames of the inferno that had threatened to engulf them. As a result, their marriage was even stronger now than it had been before. Although only God knew what the coming years would bring, they both knew in their hearts that their love could—and would—withstand the test of time.
Prissy smiled softly and blew Stan a kiss, which he pretended to catch before winking at her.
As she and her mother returned to the kitchen to finish helping with dinner, Quentin turned on the big-screen television, and the men gathered around to watch the Chicago Bears take on the Detroit Lions.
After removing a large pan of macaroni and cheese from the oven and setting it down on the counter, Prissy couldn’t resist sneaking another peek at one of Mama Wolf’s picture-perfect turkeys. After admiring the beautifully roasted bird, Prissy tucked the foil shield back into place just as Evangeline appeared beside her, affectionately drawing an arm around her waist.
“Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”
Prissy smiled warmly, kissing Evangeline’s soft cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, Mama Wolf. I’m so glad all of you could make it to Colorado this year.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have missed being here for the world. Holidays just aren’t the same without the whole family being together.”
“I agree,” Prissy said, naturally thinking of Celeste, who was spending Thanksgiving with Grant’s family in Vermont. She’d called yesterday to speak to Michael and Marcus, and then she’d chatted briefly with Prissy. Although they hadn’t mentioned the miscarriage, Prissy could hear a trace of lingering sorrow and regret in Celeste’s voice. She hoped, in time, that Celeste would make peace with everything that had happened between her and Sterling. She hoped time would heal everyone’s wounds.
“It’s beautiful up here in the mountains,” Evangeline remarked, her voice breaking into Prissy’s melancholic musings.
She smiled. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Umm-hmm.” Evangeline swept an approving glance around the large, luxuriously furnished cabin. “Everyone is definitely going to enjoy their stay here.”
“I think so, too. And I hope you don’t mind rooming with Georgina. Since there are only five bedrooms, I had to pair everyone up in a way that made the most sense.” So Theo and Winnie were obviously sharing a room, her mother was bunking with Maya and Zora, Sterling was sleeping alone, and the eight boys were camping out on air mattresses spread across the enormous living room.
“Oh, no, baby,” Evangeline assured Prissy. “I don’t mind rooming with Georgina at all. You know I’ve always liked her. She’s a lovely young woman, and Quentin adores her the way your boys adore you. You’re both wonderful mothers.”
Prissy gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Mama Wolf.”
Although Evangeline had taken great pains not to criticize Celeste, Prissy knew that she’d been angered and devastated by Celeste’s betrayal. Evangeline was fiercely protective of her Wolf Pack, so she didn’t look too kindly upon anyone who dared to hurt them—especially someone she’d lovingly and unreservedly welcomed into the fold.
“In fact,” Evangeline added thoughtfully, “I think I’m going to enjoy getting to know Georgina better this weekend.”
Prissy followed the direction of Evangeline’s gaze to where Georgina had wandered into the living room to catch some of the football game. She stood directly behind Sterling, who sat flanked by Stan and Theo on the plush sectional. When the Bears scored a touchdown, Georgina cheered and excitedly grabbed Sterling’s shoulder, something she’d done before on numerous occasions. But now that Prissy knew what had recently transpired between the two old friends, Georgina’s innocent gesture took on greater significance.
As she and Evangeline watched, Sterling glanced over his shoulder at Georgina, smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
It was all Prissy could do to keep a poker face as Evangeline turned and looked at her, brows raised, a speculative gleam in those eyes that never missed anything.
Prissy was more than relieved when Theo wandered into the kitchen to get cold beers for him, Sterling and Stan. After kissing his wife’s cheek and retrieving the drinks from the refrigerator, he set them down on the counter and impulsively grabbed Prissy, hoisting her into the air and spinning her around as he’d done when she was a little girl.
Prissy squealed with laughter, making Maya and Zora giggle hysterically as they watched from nearby.
As Theo set Prissy down and affectionately tweaked her nose, she grinned up at him. “What was that for?”
He grinned, shrugging a broad shoulder. “I don’t know. Just felt like doing that for old times’ sake.”
Prissy smiled warmly at her older brother. Five years apart, she and Theo shared a special bond forged by the tragedy that had forced them to grow up sooner than they’d wanted to. After their father died, Theo had become the man of the house, taking care of all the things their dad used to while Prissy cooked, cleaned and looked after their grief-stricken mother.
Before proposing to Prissy on prom night, Stan had gone to Theo to ask his blessing. Although Theo had always liked and respected Stan, he was concerned that they were too young to get married, and he didn’t like the idea of his brainy, ambitious baby sister postponing college to start a family. After he and Stan had a long man-to-man talk—the details of which remained confidential to this day—Theo had given Stan his blessing. Months later he gave Prissy away at her wedding, his broad chest puffed out with pride as he’d escorted her down the aisle, where Stan awaited her with tears shining in his eyes.
“Winnie says you booked our reservations at the spa tomorrow evening after dinner,” Theo said, interrupting Prissy’s reverie.
“Yup.” She smiled. “I figure after a day of falling on our butts on the ski slopes, we’ll need some pampering.”
“Then how come only the grownups get to go to the spa?” Maya and Zora wanted to know.
Prissy grinned at her petulant nieces. “Because we’re old, and falling on our butts takes more of a toll on our bodies than yours.” When Winnie snickered, Prissy added sweetly, “And because spa treatments are a luxury you can’t appreciate until you’re a grownup.”
“Not all the grownups are going to the spa,” Dinah quickly interjected, seeking to pacify her pouting granddaughters. “It’s a couples’ thing,” she added, winking at Prissy.
“Oh?” Evangeline shot another speculative glance toward the living room, where Georgina was now perched on the back of the sectional as she and Sterling laughed and quietly conversed.
After exchanging a look with Prissy that said, I know you know more than you’re letting on, Evangeline stopped what she was doing and wandered from the kitchen to investigate the matter on her own.
“Everything sure smells good in here,” Theo heartily declared, rubbing his flat abdomen. “Sure can’t wait to sink my teeth into some delicious turkey and trimmings. Hint, hint.”
Prissy laughed. “Oh, be quiet. Folks who don’t help out in the kitchen don’t get to rush the cooks.”
“Especially when one of those cooks is Mama Wolf,” Dinah added. “Besides, it’s barely two o’clock, and we had a late breakfast.”
“That’s right,” Prissy said, “so go sit down somewhere, Thelonious.”
He looked affronted. “Winnie,” he said, addressing his wife, “you gonna just stand there and let them talk to me like this?”
The voluptuous, mahogany-toned beauty laughed and shook her head at her husband. “Considering that your mother and sister are the only other women you ever listen to, I need to keep them as allies. So, yeah, baby, you’re on your own.”
Everyone laughed as Theo pretended to scowl before scooping up his beers and stalking off.
When Dinah, Winnie, Maya and Zora headed out to the living room a few minutes later, Prissy remained behind to keep an eye on the candied yams baking in the oven.
The harmonious cacophony of animated voices and laughter was pure music to her ears. With the fire crackling in the hearth, the men gathered around the blaring television and the younger boys tussling on the floor, the festive scene reminded Prissy of a Norman Rockwell painting come vibrantly to life. Standing there watching everyone, she felt deliriously content, and blessed beyond measure.
Sighing softly to herself, she turned back to the oven to remove Mama Wolf’s candied yams. Lifting the pan to her nose, she inhaled deeply, savoring the hot, mouthwatering aroma of brown sugar and cinnamon that wafted up from the steaming casserole. Clearing space on the crowded countertop, she set down the yams and plucked off the oven mitts she wore.
“Pris.” The deep, smoky rumble of Stan’s voice near her ear skirted along her nerve endings and settled low in her belly. As he stood close behind her, she let her eyes drift closed, enjoying his intoxicating body heat.
“I came to collect on the feast you promised me,” he whispered in her ear.
Prissy smiled demurely. “Dinner will be ready in an hour,” she said, pretending to misunderstand him.
“Nice try, woman, but you know I’m not talking about food.”
Opening her eyes, Prissy tipped her head back to look up at him. “As I recall, we were supposed to lock everyone out of the cabin before we, ah, commenced our feast. Surely you don’t intend to put everyone out on Thanksgiving?”
Stan’s mouth twitched. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Good. Because—”
“Come with me, wife,” he growled softly.
Anticipation thrummed through her veins, quickening her pulse. “Right now?”
Stan nodded, already taking her hand and starting from the kitchen.
As they moved past the living room, Georgina glanced up and grinned knowingly. “Now I wonder where those two are headed.”
Sterling chuckled. “To work on baby number six.”
Prissy blushed self-consciously as the adults laughed while Manning groaned, “Aw, man, not again.”
“We’re only going to talk,” Prissy insisted. “We need to, er, finalize the itinerary for the weekend. Y’all know I’m a planner.”
This was met with dubious laughter and guffaws.
Stan didn’t miss a step, his strides long and purposeful as he led Prissy up the winding staircase and past the loft and the other four bedrooms before they reached the elegantly rustic master suite.
Stan ushered Prissy inside, then closed the door behind them and pinned her against it with the solid weight of his body.
Her lips parted on a soft gasp. “Stan—”
Before she could complete the thought, much less the sentence, Stan dipped his head and captured her mouth in an urgent, mind-blowing kiss that left her knees quaking and her loins throbbing.
“I’ve been trying to keep my distance,” he whispered raggedly, “but I couldn’t wait another second to get you alone.”
Delicious shivers raced through her as he deftly began unbuttoning the long flannel shirt she wore over black leggings.
“Stan,” she said breathlessly, batting his hands away, “what are you doing?”
“What does it look like? Getting ready to make love to my beautiful wife.”
“You were serious?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“But everyone’s downstairs!”
He chuckled, low and sexy. “This is what they think we’re doing up here anyway. So we might as well.”
“But what if—”
He slanted his mouth over hers, sucking her bottom lip and twining his tongue around hers with a carnal sensuality that sent molten heat curling through her veins.
She moaned softly in surrender, sliding her arms around his neck. As the kiss deepened, his body settled more firmly against hers. When he lifted her from the floor, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
As he leaned down to nuzzle her arched throat, Prissy sighed languorously. “The cabin is absolutely wonderful, Lieutenant Wolf. I’m so glad it was one of your prizes.”
Stan lifted his head and gazed down at her, his dark eyes sweeping over her face with searing tenderness. “Your love is the only prize I could ever want or need,” he said huskily.
Prissy’s heart melted as she gazed into his eyes. “You have it, sweetheart. And you always will.”
“Good.” He kissed her softly. “And now…”
Prissy’s lashes fluttered closed, lips curving in a naughty smile. “Let the feast begin.”
Giving a low howl of satisfaction, Stan locked the door and loosened her last button….
*****