Page 38 of A Mustang River Christmas

But the season was upon them, nonetheless.

Rustler Mountain was definitely beginning to look like winter was approaching. The trees in front of the town hall had all turned a vibrant red and orange, and Cassidy knew that meant the leaves would wither and drop by next week. The color was vivid, but fleeting, a metaphor, probably, for something she had never experienced.

Every weekend between now and Christmas, there would be festivities on the main street of town. While Cassidy didn’t like to betray the fact that she was secretly soft, in her own heart she could admit it. She loved the decorations, the music, the food. Sometimes she thought that if she could immerse herself in Rustler Mountain Christmas, then she would forget all the Christmases that came before, and most crucially, the Christmas when her mother left her stranded on Austin’s doorstep, making her a Christmas foundling at the mercy of three older half brothers who had never even known of her existence.

It would not be surprising if she hated Christmas. For a while it had been difficult. But Christmas in Florida had been different. The way the seasons changed—and they did change, contrary to what people who didn’t live there believed—was different from the way they changed in Oregon. The air tasted different, the foliage behaved in a different manner. The way fall turned things crisp before winter made the landscape an easily shattered pane of ice was something she had never experienced until she moved here. Christmas had become a new tradition that had new meaning.

Now it reminded her of how lucky she was to have her older brothers. How lucky she was to have this place to call home. And really, how lucky she was to have Dalton. Her entire family was helping with her future sister-in-law’s booth. Jessie Jane Hancock was doing blacksmithing demonstrations in a station by the courthouse and answering people’s questions and concerns as Rustler Mountain’s future mayor. Her term would begin in January.

Cassidy was walking toward the booth now, hands in her pockets, a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck to keep the chill at bay. She could hear music, laughter, conversation, could smell cinnamon, apples and cloves on the air.

There were carolers walking toward her, wearing Victorian costumes, the men in top hats, the women in dark, high-collared dresses with bustled skirts. It was a familiar scene, and yet always different. Always a spectacle.

She quickened her pace as she moved toward the family booth, crossing the street while traffic stopped for her. She waved cheerily at the cars and kept on going.

There was a crowd around Jessie’s booth, so she could barely see what was happening, though she could see sparks flying upward and people clapping.

She could see Austin, wearing a black cowboy hat, holding his daughter, Emma . And his wife, Millie, standing beside him holding his arm. The sight made Cassidy ache, but not in a bad way.

One of the things that Cassidy was having a difficult time wrapping her head around was how different everything was this Christmas.

A couple of years ago, Austin and Millie got married; then they had a baby. Then Carson married his best friend Perry Bramble , and now Flynn and Jessie Jane were engaged after what seemed to Cassidy to be a whirlwind fling.

She couldn’t imagine doing anything like that.

Because Dalton wasn’t a whirlwind.

He was stable and steady. He was everything she valued.

Right. All of the women he’d had casual affairs with would call him stable and steady.

Okay. Maybe they wouldn’t.

But she knew him as stable and steady. He was always good to her. Always patient and wonderful and exceptionally kind.

He was everything she could ever want in a man.

The crowd around the booth began to disperse, and that was when she saw him.

Hands moving in broad gestures as he told a story that made Jessie and Perry double over with laughter. Cassidy felt an absurd prick of jealousy. She had nothing to be jealous about. Perry and Jessie weren’t single.

She picked up her pace. She cut across the lawn rather than walk around the perimeter and ignored the delicious smelling treats as she made a beeline for her family.

“Hi,” she said.

The conversation broke off, and she became very aware of the fact that she had just crashed in. Not only that, but they had all responded to her appearance by ceasing their conversation.

Her brothers were careful with her. Maybe a little bit too careful, because of the circumstances surrounding her coming to Rustler Mountain. Everyone was so painfully aware of the fact that she’d been abandoned, and while it was really sweet that they worried about her and all, she didn’t need to be treated like a charity case. Or like she was tragic.

Though, to be fair, she definitely acted like the youngest, most coddled member of the group. It was a learned habit. And now that everybody was pairing off, getting married, having children, it seemed . . . silly. She felt silly. She wanted things to change.

She looked at Dalton, and her heart jumped. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I was talking about the time my brother and I were hunting and he got a deer. Then we came up over the mountain, and there was a bear feeding on the deer that he’d just dropped. Well, then he got the bear, and went running down the hill shouting, ‘Two-for-one!’”

She knew this story. Of course she did. It had happened way back when Dalton was a kid, and he got a lot of mileage out of it. But she laughed anyway, because she loved to hear him tell it.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jessie said, wiping a tear underneath her eye. “What are the chances?”