Mistletoe Wedding Read Free Page B

easy to screw up. Given she was the only parent Brooklyn had, the odds of Meg making a mistake were higher.
    “Are you cold, baby?” Meg asked.
    “Nope.”
    One-word answers didn’t tell her much about Brooklyn’s state of mind, though she didn’t sound confused. Meg removed her gloves to check her daughter’s temperature.
    The air in the office was surprisingly warm, given Meg had been cold all night working in the barn. She rubbed her hands together, then touched Brooklyn’s forehead. A little on the cool side, but nothing extreme. Good. She felt the pajamas, particularly the legs for any damp spots from being out in the snow. She found none. No shivering, chattering teeth or goosebumps, either. All good signs, right?
    Of course, they were.
    She knew the signs of hypothermia. What should have been an easy climb on Mount Hood had taught her those. After that, she’d taken every available first aid and wilderness training. She knew the risks and precautions when out in the cold weather. No sense letting insecurities over doing right by her daughter make Meg doubt herself.
    “The office is heated,” Ty said, as if reading her mind.
    That explained the air temp. “I didn’t know that.”
    “The senior cats don’t seem to like the cold much.”
    “I don’t,” Brooklyn chimed in.
    Ty smiled at her. “Either do the young ones or Dusty for that matter.”
    The dog’s tail wagged, like a metronome on molto presto .
    Meg expected Dusty to trot over to Ty. Whenever she saw the foreman walking around the ranch, the dog followed him like a shadow. Instead, Dusty sat and rubbed his muzzle against Brooklyn, as if she were the sun in his world.
    Not what Meg expected, but nothing this morning was.
    Her daughter yawned, then stretched and placed a gloved hand on the dog. The gentle, nurturing gesture seemed so natural for her daughter to do, though they’d never had pets, not even a goldfish.
    “Dusty kept me company,” Brooklyn said. “He’s a good doggy and my friend.”
    Her voice sounded normal, more alert.
    The tension bunching Meg’s muscles hadn’t loosened, but her concern dropped. She kept a hand on Brooklyn, as if her daughter might vanish. “I see that.”
    “Dusty loves kids.” Ty sat on the edge of his desk. The casual pose made him look relaxed and calm. “Wait until you see him with the families during summertime. He keeps track of kids as if they were part of the herd.”
    Brooklyn uncurled, then sat. “I can’t wait.”
    Neither could Meg. She wanted to raise her daughter in Montana where she’d grown up. Accepting the position at the Bar V5 had been easy. Getting settled in a small town and making sure Brooklyn thrived, not so much.
    Knowing her daughter had found her way to the barn this morning didn’t help. Insecurities continued to poke and prod Meg. This job was perfect for her, but living where she worked and not having babysitting nearby wasn’t ideal. All she wanted to be was a good mom, but parenting had been harder than she imagined and wasn’t getting easier.
    Alone, without her ex-husband wanting to be involved, some days felt like climbing the Himalayas without a guide, oxygen tank or a map. She kept hoping to find her way or a how-to-be-a-perfect-mom instruction manual, scoured shelves at thrift stores and used bookstores to no avail. The optimist in her kept hoping a guidebook would be published one of these days and she’d learn all the answers, including the best moms’ secret handshake.
    She brushed hair off Brooklyn’s smiling face. “What are you doing in the barn?”
    “Catnapping,” her daughter answered, as if the one word needed no further explanation.
    That might suffice for a six-year-old, but not for Meg. “You were supposed to stay in the bunkhouse with Ellie and Siena.”
    “I woke up. They were asleep,” Brooklyn said, matter of fact. “I was hungry, so I decided to find you.”
    “Alone?”
    Brooklyn nodded.
    Ty stood. “No one knows you came