Buster smiled dreamily. "That it is," he said. But then his face grew concerned. "How's Annabelle?" he asked, referring to my mama.

"She's in the hospital again."

He nodded. "I figured. Saw her ripping out of here in that sash. I came straight across to get Marlo," he said, putting the "t" on the end of the word across as mountain folks did. "Poor girl was in the shower." He shook his head. "Glad they're gettin' her patched up."

Well, that was one way to put it. I just nodded. "Oh hey, I have something for you, too," I said, reaching for a small tin under the Christmas tree.

I handed it to Buster and he grinned. "Lavender tea. My favorite. You're a gem, Miss Tenleigh."

I laughed. "You're welcome." Truthfully, I made lavender tea for him whenever I could, not just at Christmas, because I knew he loved it. So it wasn't anything too exciting. But he was very sweet to act as if it was.

"Well, you two have a Merry Christmas." He pulled his hood up and smiled over at Kyland and then kissed me on the cheek, his lips cold and dry.

"You, too," I said.

I let Buster out and then looked over at Kyland, the smutty whittled art in my hand. "I've got a whole collection of them," I said.

Kyland threw his head back and laughed. I joined him. "I swear, that old man has a screw loose. But, I love him."

Kyland shook his head, still chuckling. "Can I see that?"

I handed him the figures and he looked closely at them, turning them this way and that. "Damn, Buster has mad whittling skills." He kept looking for a minute, seeming to remember suddenly that I was watching him. His face sobered. He cleared his throat.

I put the gift under my small tree and turned to Kyland, his expression intense and heated. My skin prickled and flushed with heat. I picked at the hem of my sweater. I didn't know how to address this tension between us. We were friends. Right?

"I better get home, you know, in case my mama needs me."

I nodded. "Yes. Right. Of course." I glanced at the clock, noting that it was almost ten o'clock.

Kyland looked uncertain. "You sure you're okay?" he asked as he quickly put on his socks and stepped into his shoes.

"Yeah." I smiled. "I am now. Thank you." I looked down, feeling shy again for some reason. "Thank you so much."

He nodded, his eyes straying to my lips before he jerked them back up to my eyes again. We both moved at once, me toward the door to let him out, and him to his jacket that was now dry. He pulled it on.

I opened the door. "You be safe walking home," I said softly. "It's slippery, and—"

"Bobcats," we both said at once and then laughed.

Kyland sobered. "I'll be safe, I promise," he said, his eyes lingering on me again.

"All right."

"All right."

He took the two steps down until he was standing in the snow. "Lock the door behind me. When I hear it click, I'll go."

I nodded. "Good night, Kyland."

"Good night, Tenleigh."

I shut the door and clicked the lock into place. I walked slowly back to the couch, bringing the blanket around me as I sat staring blankly at our small Christmas tree. The trailer suddenly seemed too quiet and lonely. And something was wrong—something was niggling at my mind. I felt tense. I needed to do something, and I couldn't figure out what. Before I could though, my eyes grew sleepy. I lay back and in minutes, I was fast asleep.

I didn't wake up again until the light of Christmas morning was shining through the windows of our trailer, a chorus of winter wrens singing their greeting.

CHAPTER NINE

Kyland

It was snowing. I stood at the window looking out at what might have made another person sigh in wonder at the clean, white landscape. It didn't always snow on Christmas. Some would say this one was special. Not me. Christmas. Melancholy rolled through me and I did my best to tamp it down. It was just another day on the calendar. If I didn't pay any attention, it would have just rolled by. Today was really no different than any other day, except in my own mind. "Get it together, Kyland," I muttered to myself, taking another sip of hot coffee.

A knock sounded at the door and I startled slightly. What the hell? Who went to someone's house on Christmas morning? I frowned as I walked to the front door. "Who is it?" I demanded, on guard.

"Tenleigh." I blinked. Tenleigh? Shit. I paused for just a second before opening the door a crack.

She was standing there, her small Christmas tree in her hands, a paper bag with handles on her arm, a timid smile on her face, and snowflakes adorning her dark hair, a few caught in her thick eyelashes. Her cheeks were pink with the cold and her breath plumed in the air. She was stunning. I opened the door just a little wider so I could see her better.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. Damn, that sounded cold. But she needed to leave. She couldn't come in.

The smile disappeared from her face and she looked down for just a beat before raising her eyes to mine, and whispering, "How long has she been gone?"

My brows furrowed. "She? She who?"

"Your mama."

My eyes widened as we stood there staring at each other across the threshold. Snow continued to gather in her hair and on her dark jacket.

"What . . . why would you . . ." I started. But then I let out a big breath and ran my hand through my hair. "How'd you know?"