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Tanner smiled. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad.” Lifting onto her tiptoes, Arien kissed Tanner’s cheek. “Because I like you too.”
They parted. She glanced at the door once more.
It was open.
And there, a towel wrapped low around his hips, Kellan stood leaning against the frame.
Savory deliciousness wafted throughout the kitchen. Turkey number two roasted in the oven. Cranberries simmered on the stove. Arien breathed it in deep. Her mother, queasy with morning sickness, left to lie down for a while, leaving her and Grams to carry on without her.
For a woman who had to be in her sixties, Melinda Brooks was the epitome of timeless beauty. Porcelain skin. Not one strand of gray in her butter-blonde curls. Ever cheerful, she smiled so much her twinkling blue eyes crinkled at the corners.
“How’ve you been settling in, honey?” she asked, gathering ingredients to make the pies. “Big adjustment for you, I know.”
“Yeah, everything’s good…” Arien took the cranberry sauce off the stove, setting it aside to cool. “…just different, you know?”
“Mmhm, sure do. I remember the first time Paul brought me up here to meet his family. We came for spring break—it was calving season.”
“You’re not originally from here?” Grabbing her mug of lukewarm coffee from the counter, she went over to Grams, leaning onto the island with her elbows. “I thought pretty much everybody was.”
“Nope, born and raised in California. I met Paul Brooks my freshman year at UC Davis. He was a senior. Swept me right off my feet, that man did. Cowboys have that way about ’em.” She stared off into the fire roaring in the living room, wistfully smiling, then gave her head a little shake. “Can you fill this measuring cup with ice water for me?”
“Sure.”
“That’s the trick to making a good crust—cold butter and ice water. Don’t you forget I taught you that.”
Arien giggled. “I won’t.” She pressed the cup into her hand.
“Anyway, I fell in love with him quick and hard. Met the folks. His brother, Garrett—he was quite a sweet-talker too, let me tell you.” Cutting the butter into cubes, she sighed. “That was in March. Paul graduated in May and we got married in June. Matthew came along a year later.”
Kellan came into the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned onto the counter. His back to them, he scrolled through his phone.
“You gave up college?”
“Just for a little while.” The food processor pulsed. “Finished my degree over in Jackson by the time Kimberly was born. Your mom tells me you’re planning on going to college back in Denver come fall.”
Kellan tossed his phone to the counter. Turning around, he folded his arms across his chest and shot her a glare.
Arien ignored him. “I am.”
“Good for you, honey. Don’t ever lose sight of your dreams. When I was your age, I dreamt of being a teacher and having a family of my own. All my dreams came true—the Brooks men here made sure of it. They understood how important it was to me.”
“You’re a teacher?”
“Right here in town.” Grams squeezed her hand and gave a chuckle. “Don’t worry, dearie. I teach the primary grades, not high school.” Pausing, her eyes flicked over to her grandson. “And just remember that dreams, like plans, can change. There are other colleges you can go to if you decide you’d rather stay close to home.”
But Denver is home.
Or at least it was.
Kellan left the kitchen without a word. Grams taught her how to roll out dough, and together they made the pies—three apple and three pumpkin. Arien was playing Tetris, trying to fit everything in the fridge, when her mom returned from her nap, and Kim, along with Emily, came waltzing through the door.
“I picked up a birthday cake at Maizie’s for Tanner,” Kim announced. She made room for the bakery box on the counter. “Got him his favorite. I know we’ve got desserts out the wazoo, but I couldn’t let my nephew blow out candles on a pie just because it’s Thanksgiving.”
“Hey there, cousin.” Arms laden with covered dishes, Emily smacked a kiss to her cheek. “Sides and the ham. Where do you want ’em?”
“Umm…” Anywhere but the fridge?
