Chapter 43

James returns with a tray, setting it on the table. “Who’s for coffee?”

Richard shudders. “Not for me James.”

“You can share mine,” offers Mitch, reaching for her teapot.

Richard scowls at the peppermint-scented steam.

James pours into a cup and saucer then offers it up. “Ryan?”

“Thank you, yes.” Ryan sips at the coffee then freezes, staring at the tablecloth. “Fuck me. Is this what
he drinks?”

“’fraid so.”

He glares. “You could have warned me. It’s like fucking refrigerator coolant.”

Across the table, Mitch looks up to the mistletoe above the hearth. “Larry?”

“Yes?” He looks in the right general direction, but nothing registers in his expression.

Clueless…

She casts eyes upward again, this time definitely eye-pointing.

He shuffles in his seat. “Mitch, this isn't really...”

Mitch stands, placing herself squarely under the mistletoe, pats her lips with a forefinger. “I'm going to
insist.”

Larry’s mouth works and a flush rises up his neck…



Way outside his comfort zone…

… nonetheless, he stands, loops an arm around the lovely woman and kisses her lightly on the lips…

… then grunts as she latches on like a limpet and pulls him in.

Finally, he surrenders to the inevitable, and opens his mouth over hers in a real kiss. His embrace
around her tightens…

Famous film kisses… Rhett and Scarlet… Kate and Leonardo…

They had nothing.

Ryan watches them, his face indecipherable.

Under the table, I slip fingers into his. “It’s something special they have, isn’t it.”

Ryan nods slowly. He’s holding something in his other hand, turning it over and over in his fingers.
“Marry me.”

I must have misheard him. “Sorry, what was that?”

He turns, his face alight, offering the something. “Marry me.” In his outstretched hand is the ring from
Mitch’s cracker. “I’ll get you a real one, but for now…”

I swallow hard.

“Kirstie, please take it.” He offers the ring to my left hand.

All around me, silence has fallen. Every face is staring my way.

I can’t get enough air.



“Can I… think about it?”

The light fades from his face. “Of course, you can.” He presses the ring into my palm, curling my
fingers around it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to rush you.”

“Who’s for cheese and liqueurs?” It’s James voice, bright and cheerful. Gratefully, I turn to him. “Kirstie,
what would you like?” He holds up a bottle in either hand. “Brandy? Or port perhaps?”

*****

Ryan swishes brandy in his glass. “So, what has Santa brought you, Charlotte?” He speaks cheerfully,
but it sounds forced. “I don’t see any new jewellery. I don’t smell perfume and you don’t have your nose
stuck in a book.”

Charlotte picks at a fingernail. “Um, with everything that happened, I don’t think…” But she’s cut short
by Michael’s grin. Her lips part.

James raises a forefinger. “I thought we would come to that fairly soon. Charlotte, if you would like to
release your death-grip on Cara for five minutes, Michael and I will show you your Christmas present.
Your present from Richard and Beth too.”

Her forehead crinkles.

Michael kisses the top of her head. “It’s from all of us, Babe. Go put on some warm clothes. And boots
and socks. Get yourself well wrapped.”

Her eyes widen. “My boots?”

“Plus thick woollens, scarf and gloves and a warm jacket,” says James.

“But Cara…”



Beth offers out her arms. “I’ll take her,” she says. She grins too, impishly. “It will be good practice for
me.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

Richard lays a hand on Beth’s thigh. “I would prefer that Elizabeth stay warm and quiet indoors.”

Charlotte’s head swings. “Is everyone in on the secret but me?”

Her father shakes his head. “Not me. I’ll admit, I’m intrigued to know what you have given Jenny for
Christmas.”

Michael’s smile widens. “Come and see, then. Ryan? Kirstie?”

Ryan knocks back his glass and stands. “Wouldn’t miss it.” He strides out to the hall, returning a
moment later shrugging on his coat and carrying mine. “Get your jacket on, Kirstie.”

He helps me on with it, offering it up from behind, and as I button up tightly, I slip the ring, still clutched
in my hand, into my pocket.

*****

We make our way to the courtyard at the back of the house. A path cuts through, shovelled and cleared
from the first fall of snow. Nonetheless, there is still a covering of a couple of inches over the ground
and snowflakes fall around us, brushing my nose like iced feathers.

Michael grumbles, “I’m going to have to bloody well do this again, aren’t I…”

“Yes, you are,” says James blithely. “But you opted for that instead of peeling vegetables, didn’t you.”

Michael tugs his jacket around himself, scowling.



We follow the path to an outbuilding. Mitch’s ‘apartment’ is next door, but this is…

Charlotte’s face lights up. “The stable?” She spins on her two husbands, mittened palms raised to her
cheeks. “Oh… You haven’t…”

Richard clicks his tongue. “Oh, yes, they have.”

From beyond the stable door comes a nicker. I’ve never had much to do with horses, but I know
animals well enough to recognise the sound of welcome when I hear it. Charlotte dashes for the
doorway, flinging back the bolts, hurling the top half-door back on its hinges.

The horse inside pushes forward, shoving her head out and nosing against Charlotte.

“Charlie! Oh, it's Charlie! I thought she wasn't coming until the Spring.” Charlotte’s eyes are alight.
“Thank you. Thank you!”

James’ eyes are soft in a way I know is only for her. “We thought we'd move things up a bit for you.
Merry Christmas, Green Eyes.”

“Merry Christmas, Babe.”

Larry sniffs, muttering. “Riding? Just after she's had a baby?”


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