A Wedding in December

“I’m used to heights and climbing up things with awkward angles.”

“I would never have thought of employing someone to put up Christmas lights.”

“You don’t decorate? You don’t like Christmas?”

“I don’t not like it, but I don’t go over the top. There’s something about Christmas that makes people a little silly—wearing festive sweaters you wouldn’t be seen dead in the rest of the year, kisses under the mistletoe you always live to regret.”

“You regret the kisses you’ve

had under the mistletoe?”

She’d fallen right into that one. “I don’t think decisions as important as who you’re going to have sex with should be decided by a plant, that’s all. And a poisonous plant at that.”

“Next you’ll be telling me you don’t believe in Santa. I’m going to have to ask you to keep that thought to yourself. I can’t handle it.”

“Did you know that people can actually catch infections from Santa outfits?”

“You are full of snippets of information I never wanted to know.”

“You’re welcome.” She had a feeling he was laughing, and she was so tired she smiled, too. “Look, I don’t mean to interrogate you, but I love Rosie. I’ve never met Dan. I want her to be happy, that’s all.”

“And that’s your responsibility?”

She stretched out her legs. She could tell him about Rosie’s unsuitable boyfriends, and maybe he’d understand. But then she’d feel disloyal to her sister. And Jordan was on team Dan, not team Rosie. “She has always been my responsibility.”

“Younger sister? Big age difference?”

“I was joking when I said I was a hundred and three.”

He laughed. “I’m rethinking Rottweiler. You’re more of a terrier. Spirited and loves an argument.”

“What makes you think I love an argument?”

“Maybe because you keep starting one.”

“Which is possibly because you’re annoying. What breed would you be, then?”

He thought about it. “I’m an energetic, outdoor type. Reliable, protective of those I love same as you are, easygoing, unless someone crosses a line.”

She wondered where that line was.

Everyone had limits, didn’t they? She’d recently discovered hers. “So you’re a Labrador, too.”

He pulled a face. “I’m not that easygoing. Maybe more German shepherd.”

The road curved through a narrow valley. Huge walls of granite and limestone rose steeply, silver gray and stark, mostly too steep to hold the snow. Patches of white clung to the less vertiginous sections, and coated the trees.

“This is an impressive place.”

“Welcome to Glenwood Canyon.”

“I can’t imagine how they built this road through the mountains.”

“It was a compromise between the engineers and the environmentalists. It’s one of the main routes through the Rocky Mountains. That’s the Colorado River right there.”

It was spectacular.

She gazed out of the window at the soaring walls of the canyon. There was something soothing about being in a warm car, looking out at the snowy mountains outside. Her life felt distant, too far away to be more than a niggle of anxiety. For once she had no responsibility, no one relying on her judgment. Jordan was a good driver, confident, not flashy. Not that she had any intention of telling him that. She had a feeling he was a man who already had the true measure of his worth.