“I thought it might be.” She crossed to his side and let his encircling arm draw her against him. “Jessy said you’d come down here to check on an injured horse.”
Her side-glance took note of the stall’s occupant, a yearling filly currently nosing at the hay in its manger. The thickness of the animal’s winter coat dulled its sorrel color and almost hid the scattering of cuts along its withers and hips.
“What happened to her?” Sloan asked.
“Somehow she broke through the ice down at the river,” Trey replied. “When the boys took hay out this morning, they found her, soaking wet and blood oozing from a half dozen cuts.”
“But how did she get cut up like that?” Sloan frowned.
“Ice can be as sharp as a razor. But she has one nasty gash that’s a little too deep and ragged to be from ice,” he explained. “If I had to guess I’d say she probably got it from a submerged tree limb. She’ll be fine. So, have you got Jake all tucked in for the night?”
“All tucked in, and he’s sound asleep. I thought about going through the photos I took at Wolf Meadow yesterday to start compiling an inventory list, then I decided to come find you in
stead.” She snuggled closer to him, relishing the warmth of his body heat.
“Cold?” he guessed.
“Frozen,” Sloan admitted. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your Montana winters.”
“Miss those warm Hawaiian breezes, do you?”
“A little.”
“Maybe we can slip away for a week or so in January and introduce Jake to the Pacific Ocean.”
“Is that a promise?” Sloan tipped her head back to look at him. “Before you answer, be warned that I’ll hold you to it if you say ‘yes.’”
“In that case”—Trey arched an eyebrow, eyes twinkling—“maybe I’d better say that it’s a definite ‘maybe.’”
“Not fair.” She emphasized her reply with a playful poke in the ribs, his wool-lined parka absorbing much of the poke.
He turned serious as he ran a searching look over her face. “You are happy here, aren’t you?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life,” she assured him, “even if I never set foot in Hawaii again.”
“Just wanted to be sure.” He made his tone deliberately light, as if his question hadn’t been a serious one at all. “Ready to head up to the house?”
“If you’re done here?”
“I am.” Keeping an arm around her shoulders, he guided her toward the door.
Outside the barn, Sloan waited while he turned off its interior lights and closed the door behind him, checking to make sure it was securely latched. Side by side, they struck out for the Homestead.
Sloan lifted her gaze to the large, two-story structure, its white brick revealed as a pale color in the moonlight. Red, blue, and green lights twinkled around the twin trees flanking the front door as well as the wreaths hung in each front window.
“The house looks so beautiful all decked out for Christmas,” she murmured, unconsciously giving voice to her thoughts.
The sight of it triggered another thought in Trey’s mind. “In another couple weeks it’ll be time to decorate the barn for our annual Christmas party.”
“It’s always the last Saturday before Christmas, isn’t it,” Sloan recalled. “That sounds far away, but it really isn’t, even though Thanksgiving was only a week ago. Which reminds me, I’ll be gone most of tomorrow.”
“Where?” It was an idle question, born of casual curiosity.
“A couple of us ranch wives are going to Miles City to buy toys for the Marines’ campaign. We have our list done, so hopefully it won’t take long once we hit the stores.”
“I like the way you said that.” His mouth curved in a pleased smile.
“Said what?” She slid him a puzzled glance.