“You sound pretty smug.” But he was smiling as he said it, his expression gentle.
“Not smug, just happy.” She leaned over and kissed him. “And it might sound corny, but I think your mom’s here…at least, her spirit is here. There is so much love in that house…so much good will. I think she needed this, here, having all her boys on Cray land, in the Cray cabin.”
“Not all. We’re missing Cormac.”
“He said he’d try to come. He was working on a flight.”
“It’s a long haul from Southern California—” he broke off as the sound of an engine pierced the quiet, and a big pewter colored SUV roared up the road and into the driveway.
Trey and McKenna looked at the driver and then looked at each other and smiled.
Cormac was here. He’d made it.
*
You wouldn’t know it was December 26th. It felt like Christmas Day.
Trey sat in the chair by the fire with TJ on his lap and McKenna on the floor at his feet, leaning back against his knee.
The Sheenans filled the small cabin, talking, laughing, sharing memories of Christmases past.
Trey enjoyed listening to his brothers tease and argue. They were as always—intense, competitive, boisterous, but ultimately loving.
It wasn’t an easy family but it was his family, and he was grateful he had a son who would carry on the Sheenan name.
Just then Troy appeared with plastic red cups half filled with cold fizzy champagne. “Where did you get the champagne from?” Brock asked, wagging his finger at his twins, letting them know they wouldn’t be drinking.
“Taylor and I picked up a couple bottles in town today, to celebrate Trey’s return home, and our first Christmas together in years.” Troy passed out the remaining cups so that all the adults had one. “If Trey hadn’t played hero, this wouldn’t have happened—”
“Not a hero,” Trey protested gruffly.
“You are to us,” Cormac said, from where he stood next to the tree with three year old Daisy in his arms.
“You are to me,” Dillon added quietly.
“And me,” TJ said, sitting up, looking around. “You saved a mom and a baby. That’s like…well, being a superhero.”
Brock smiled faintly. “Trey, our Superhero.”
“Ha!” Trey protested, flushing and squirming a little, undone by the support. To have his family here, accepting him, including him, meant more than he could say.
“So I propose a toast,” Troy said, lifting his red cup. “To Trey who helped bring us together this year. It’s so good to have you home.”
“To Trey!” they all cheered, and then drank.
The champagne was cold and crisp, and the bubbles fizzed, making Trey smile. The cabin might be small and rustic, and the champagne might be served in plastic cups, but this was one of the most festive Christmases he could remember.
Trey lifted his cup. “I have a toast, too.” He glanced around the room, at his brothers, Harley, Taylor, the kids. His son. McKenna. And suddenly he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make the toast. Suddenly he felt so much emotion he couldn’t speak.
But then he felt a calm, and a peace, and he took a breath and tried to put his gratitude into words. “To Dad and Mom,” he said, his deep voice cracking. “May we remember the best in them, and cherish the good, and may we forget the pain and hurts and forgive so that only the love remains.”
The room was silent and for a moment Trey wondered if he’d said too much, maybe said the wrong thing. Then he felt McKenna squeeze his knee and Cormac raised his cup. “Beautifully said. To Mom and Dad.”
“Mom and Dad,” everyone echoed. “To the Sheenans and the Crays.”
They stayed up late into the night talking and laughing and sharing stories as well as planning weddings. Troy and Taylor were still discussing a Valentine’s wedding but it looked as if there would be a wedding much sooner.
Trey and McKenna wanted a barn wedding on the Sheenan property on New Year’s Eve. McKenna joked that she’d take her wedding dress and cut it off at the knees and top it with the red flannel shirt tied at the waist.
“All you’d need would be some red cowboy boots,” Troy said. “And I’m pretty sure you have a pair.”
“No veil,” Trey said. “You have to leave your hair down.”
“And you, Trey, would have to come in all black,” McKenna retorted. “Only appropriate if we’re re-enacting the great wedding escape.”
Harley glanced from Trey to TJ. “Are you two serious?”
Trey and McKenna’s gazes locked and held. He was the first to smile. “I’d marry her today,” he said slowly, blue eyes gleaming, “but we need a license.”
“And the ring,” she added, lips twitching. “It’s in Marietta in a safe deposit box.”
“But the barn will be cold,” Harley said with mock sternness. “It’s not an appropriate barn for weddings.”
“And it’ll smell,” Taylor added. Maybe we can see if the Emerson Barn is free.”
Harley nodded and reached for her smart phone, doing a quick search and then checking an online calendar. “I’m on their website events page now. The barn is booked for the 31st, for a large private New Year’s Eve party, but it is open on the 30th and on the evening of New Year’s Day.”
She looked expectantly at Trey and McKenna. “Should we make a reservation request?”
“It’s a huge barn and there’s only a few of us,” McKenna protested.
“You have to invite your brothers,” Trey said. “And sweet Aunt Karen.”
McKenna rolled her eyes at the sweet Aunt Karen part, but Trey was right. She couldn’t get married without her brothers and Aunt Karen there. They’d never forgive her. “Paige, too. And her kids. Plus Jenny and Colton Thorpe.”
“Sage and Callan Carrigan,” someone said.
“Well, Callan for sure,” Dillon answered. “If you want all the family there.”
The conversation abruptly died. Heads turned, eyes on Dillon.
Brock was the first to speak, his dark brows flat over intense dark eyes. “That was odd,” he said carefully. “Want to repeat that?”
Dillon didn’t immediately answer. Seconds passed and the tension grew. Finally he shrugged. “We have a lot to talk about.”
More silence followed.
Trey and Troy exchanged swift glances.
Cormac frowned. “Does anybody know what’s going on?”
“A little bit,” Troy admitted. “But I think Dillon knows more than the rest of us.”
“I do,” Dillon agreed. “But I don’t think this is the time, not with the kids here, not when we’re supposed to be enjoying each other’s company.”
“It’s that bad,” Trey said flatly.
“Or…good…depending on how you look at it.”
No one looked reassured.
“I think you’re right about tonight not being the time or place,” Troy said. “Not just because of the kids, but because this is the Cray cabin. This is Mom’s place.”
*
It was well after midnight when everyone had turned in and the cabin lights turned off. In the master bedroom it was Trey and McKenna with TJ in the middle.
TJ had fallen asleep hours ago and Trey and McKenna held hands, their linked fingers resting on his hip.
“What do you think of your Christmas?” McKenna whispered in the dark.
“I think it was the best Christmas ever.”
“Because everybody was here?”
“Because Christmas this year was a whole week long.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Day 1, kidnapping you and TJ from the church.”
“You can’t celebrate that.”
“Of course I can. Day 2, Explore Cherry Lake. Day 3, movie and Christmas shopping. Day 4, snow fun. Day 5, Christmas Eve. Day 6, Christmas. Day 7, everybody here with us.”
She smiled in the dark. “That does sound like a lovely Christmas holiday.”
“It was.” He lifted her hand, kissed the back of her fingers. And then her wrist, and then leaned closed to kiss the inside of her elbow. “The most perfect Christmas ever. And I owe it all to you.”