Hart's Hollow Farm (New Americana 4)

Kristen closed her eyes. Saw the sweep of Anna’s brown hair across her back as she smiled at her over her shoulder. Recalled the joyful sound of her laugh when they sat up in the hospital bed late at night, reading funny stories. Revisited one of Anna’s most precious last moments—the one when she smiled bravely, squeezed Kristen’s hand and said, “Don’t cry, Mama.”

“My daughter,” Kristen said brokenly. “I lost Anna.”

“How old was she?” Emmy asked gently.

“Five.” A fresh surge of tears streamed down her cheeks. “She had cancer. We tried everything, but—” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to let her go, and at first, I didn’t. I carried her memory with me for so long, but then it hurt too much to remember—to realize how good life was with her and how empty it is now without her. But then I met you and . . . Mitch and Sadie and Dylan.”

“And you wanted to do more than remember?” Emmy asked. “You wanted to feel alive again?”

Kristen nodded. “But it feels like a betrayal. Like I’ve left Anna behind. And it hurts too much to remember. It hurts too much to move on.”

Emmy shook her head, tears spilling over her lashes, as she pulled Kristen into a close embrace. “Oh, Kristen, it hurts just as much to forget. And I’m afraid to stop loving and living each day to the fullest for as long as I have left.” Her hand moved over Kristen’s hair again. “Don’t you know you’re my miracle? The one I’ve been waiting for? I’m not willing to let you go just yet.” She rocked slowly back and forth as their quiet cries whispered across the room. “So what will we do, my dear girl? Oh, what will we do?”

Kristen nuzzled her face closer against the silky skin at the base of Emmy’s throat, drawing comfort, strength, and new life from her firm embrace. “We’ll just do what a family should,” she whispered. “We’ll hurt—and heal—together.”

* * *

Mitch lowered the shade over Emmy’s bedroom window, but the late afternoon sun still glowed brightly through the thin covering, casting an orange light over her face. She still smiled slightly, even in her sleep, and held Sadie, who napped next to her in a loose embrace.

After being released from the hospital not long after her visit with Kristen, Emmy had been anxious to return home. She’d walked slower than usual when leaving the patient’s room and making her way to the truck, but she had managed it on her own and had almost vibrated with joy when he turned the truck back onto Hart’s Hollow Farm’s driveway.

Emmy’s face had lit up at the sight of the new sign Kristen had made, and she’d glanced into the backseat and shared a warm look with Kristen. She’d barely made it into the house, though, before the eventful day caught up with her, and she’d yawned repeatedly as he and Kristen helped her change and get settled for a nap.

Sadie, excited her nana was home, had piled into the bed with her, tucked her hands under her cheek, and promptly drifted off, as well.

Mitch grinned. They were a gorgeous sight. He bent, kissed their cheeks, then left quietly and closed the door behind him.

“Are they asleep?” Kristen stood at the other end of the hall, her hands twisting nervously at her middle. Her T-shirt and jeans were rumpled from sitting in a waiting-room chair all night, her blond hair was disheveled and there wasn’t a speck of makeup on her face.

She was the most gorgeous woman Mitch had ever seen.

He nodded, his eyes tracing the curve of her mouth, her cute nose and the peaceful look in her eyes. “Dylan?”

“He’s out like a light.” She swept a hand through her hair and sighed. “They’ve all earned a decent nap. And now that they’re home . . .” Her voice trailed away, and a glimmer of hope lit her expression as she studied his face.

“I put your bags back in the guest room.”

Her smile faded. “My bags?”

He gestured toward the floor near Dylan’s closed bedroom door. “The ones you left right there early this morning.”

“Oh.” Her chest lifted on a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you about that. I need to apologize to you for—”

“That can wait.” He strode to her, took her soft hand in his, and tugged her toward the front door. “I have something to show you.”

“But I need to—”

“Hey.” He stopped and faced her, cradled her face in his hands and brushed a soft kiss across her lush mouth. “I don’t need an apology right now. I just need you, if you’re willing.” He grinned. “Will you humor me, please?”

Her attention drifted to his mouth, and she smiled. “Okay.”

He continued, leading her outside onto the porch, down the front steps, and across the lawn.

The sun shined bright, its rays slipping between the thick low branches of the oaks and heating his skin. A light breeze rustled the leaves on the trees and the grass at their feet. He stepped softly until they reached the wide trunk of one of the oaks, then released Kristen’s hand, cupped his together, and lowered them by her knees.

She looked down and laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you one of the best views around.” He grinned wider and beckoned with his hands. “Come on. We’ve got a few moments to ourselves, and that big branch over there has our names written all over it.”