Wasn't that what coming home for Christmas was all about, the memories, the love?
"Quinn." Sky tapped her on the shoulder.
"What?" She looked up at him.
"I said, Mom's calling you.v
"Oh, I guess she's ready to make the gingerbread."
"You're sure you don't want to join us, Quinn?" Her father asked.
"I'm sure, Dad." She smiled back at the big man who filled the doorway. He was still tall and broad-shouldered, though not quite so tall as Sky, nor as muscular as Trevor, both of whom had played high school football before going on to play at the University of Montana at Missoula. Though well into his sixties, their father still had all of his hair, much of which was still chestnut brown, like that of both his sons. His eyes still twinkled and his laughter still filled this house and his face still softened when he looked at his beloved Catherine.
It had only been recently that Hap had started taking the first steps toward retiring, talking about turning the ranch over to his sons, to give him more time to spend with his wife. They spoke of taking a cruise come February, maybe even fly to Florida, then book a ship to the islands over there on the opposite side of the country. Their children not only encouraged them but had, as a Christmas surprise, chipped in for that very trip for their parents. Trevor had driven into town just that morning to see if the tickets had been delivered to the post office box.
Quinn had set the box of ornaments on the floor and stood up, preparing to drop the chain of hearts into a basket on the table next to her, when she realized the basket was filled with Christmas cards.
"I can never get over how many people find the time to mail Christmas cards each year," she said to her father.
"It's not something you find time to do," her mother corrected her from the nearby kitchen, "it's something you make time to do. And we received some lovely cards this year."
Quinn lifted the stack of cards and sorted through them, reading the names of the senders. Mostly relatives and old friends of the family, she noted.
"Who is 'Valerie ?" she asked, holding up the environmentally correct card depicting the endangered timber wolf on the front.
"Valerie McKenzie." Hap grinned. "She was here over Thanksgiving. Spent most of the fall up at old Jed's cabin, cleaning it up. Had a bunch of w
orkmen up there every day. Had all sorts of new stuff delivered. New refrigerator, some new furniture. First time in years there's been a McKenzie back up here. You probably heard that she made it real big as a model in New York. Yep"—he nodded—"she's grown into one beautiful young woman, wouldn't you say, son?"
Sky shrugged noncommitally.
"Oh, right, I’ll just bet you didn't notice her." Quinn laughed. "Just like you didn't notice how well she filled out those little bathing suits when she was sixteen and she and Liza used to go swimming down at Golden Lake."
Quinn ducked the rolled-up piece of paper that Sky threw in the direction of her head.
"Well, she's a lovely girl, and we're looking forward to seeing her over the Christmas holidays," Catherine told them. "She and Liza are planning on getting together. They were the best of friends for so long, you'll remember."
"Val is going to be staying at the cabin over Christmas?" Quinn asked.
"She said she would be. Said she enjoyed being home so much that she was sorry she'd stayed away so long," Hap told her.
"Did she now?" Quinn grinned meaningfully at Sky, who was just about to tell her that Valerie wasn't the only McKenzie who'd be around over the next few weeks.
Quinn was still smirking at her brother as she dropped Val's card into the basket.
On second thought, Sky thought, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, maybe we'll just let Little Miss Smart Mouth make that discovery on her own.
He just hoped that he wasn't around when she did.
"Daddy, we want cartoons." Evan McKenzie leaned over his father's shoulder and directly into his face to make his announcement.
"Yeah." Eric nodded. "We're bored."
"How can you be bored?" Cale glanced across the room to the clock on the mantle. It was barely ten o'clock in the morning. This had, he grimaced, all the makings of a very long day.
"We want television," the twins chorused.
"Guys, guys, for the last time, there is no television here. You're in the wilds of Montana, just like the hearty pioneers. Look"—Cale stood up and pulled back the homespun curtain on the living room window and pointed outside—"you stand right here and watch, and I'll bet that before too long a deer or an elk will go right by."