Page 43 of Terms and Traditions

She shrugged, adjusting her scarf. “You’ve met my family. What do you think? It’s survival.”

“All right.” Gabe’s commanding voice cut through the noise and our conversation, demanding attention. “Listen up!”

Stephanie’s eyes widened as I leaned down into her space, halting with my lips just above her ear. “Good luck,” I whispered, “You’ll need it.” I bussed a kiss to her cold cheek and walked backwards away from her, watching the surprise on her face with amusement. Then for good measure, I threw her a wink.

“You know the drill,” Gabe boomed as I rejoined my team. His voice carried over the snow-covered lawn to where the girls’ team lined up opposite us. “Both teams have ten minutes to construct their snow fortress and three minutes to prepare snowballs—”

“We all know the rules!” an all-black-clad stick figure called from my right. Elijah, I think Stephanie had called him.

Gabe frowned at him. “We’ve got new faces this year. A refresher never hurts.”

Elijah muttered a curse with Stephanie’s name attached, eyes dark with disgust.

Gabe reacted before I could. “Hey!” His voice turned frigid, giving me a glimpse of the drill sergeant military man underneath his family face. “Not in front of the kids. You got a problem, Eli?” Elijah’s cheek twitched at the name. “Take it up with me later or sit this round out. Your choice.”

Elijah took the hint and crossed his arms. “Loosen up. It was just a joke.”

Gabe’s eyes shot upwards, like a silent plea for patience before he continued. “No snowball prep can be done during fortress building. Once the war begins, if you’re hit, you’re frozen for ten seconds. Which means you can’t throw any snow, but others can still hit you. All hits have to be below the head. If you hit someone in the face, you freeze for ten seconds.” He eyed the group firmly. “Are we all clear on that? Any questions?”

A chorus of “No” and “Let’s get on with it already” rippled across the lawn.

Gabe nodded to where Hailey sat with Zara, thermos in one hand and Eden curled up on her lap. “Hails, the timer.”

She raised her arm, phone in hand. “Addams Family, build your walls!”

I watched as Gabe’s boys, Jackson and Ryder, along with their cousins of a similar age, Cayden and Ollie, immediately dove into action, amassing snow to form a shield wall. Austin and another man—I was losing track of which partner belonged to which sibling—assisted as the boys gave orders.

Across the lawn, Stephanie and Ivy huddled together as Zoe, Austin’s wife—I hadn’t caught her name—and several nieces pushed snow into large heaps. For half a minute, I wondered about Stephanie’s blood pressure. This wasn’t risky for her, was it? She was smart and wouldn’t do something dangerous. Besides, this was a family ritual from what I’d gathered.

Gabe tossed me a shovel. “Give me a hand, will you?” Together, we started shoveling snow into a pile close to the snow fort foundation.

When I let myself steal another glance at Stephanie, Gabe paused and followed my line of sight. “Regretting the initiation?” His voice sounded amused.

I chuckled, throwing another load of snow onto the pile before Jackson scurried towards it and started pounding it against what would become the front shield wall. “More like relishing the moment.”

Gabe’s intense gaze bored into me. Weighing my words. Let him probe all he liked. Despite his gruff routine, he didn’t intimidate me. He loved Stephanie and wanted what was best for her. I couldn’t fault him for that.

“We need more snow on this side, Dad,” Ryder called out.

Moving to the other side of the building project, Gabe started chucking snow with ease. Seriously, the man wasn’t even wearing gloves.

“How long have you been in the Marines?” I asked.

“Twenty-two years.” Gabe grunted as his shovel hit a rock, jolting him. “Enlisted right out of high school and never looked back.” His mouth tipped down and a line furrowed his forehead.

“You thinking about getting out or staying in forever?”

The line deepened. “Ivy and I have been discussing it. Leaving.”

I wasn’t sure if it was his words or the fact that he was telling me this that surprised me more. Particularly in the middle of a snowball war of all places. “Does Steph know?”

We both glanced towards his sister, who stood with Ivy and several of the younger girls clustered around her, giving directions. Shifting to observe my own team, I noticed Ryder, Gabe’s eldest, and his similar stance. Then it hit me. What I had regarded as Stephanie’s natural take-charge attitude and organizational skills were a family trait. One only had to look at her father, Nana, and Gabe to see those same tendencies.

“Not yet.” Gabe’s tone was low and guttural. Like this was something he’d wrestled with again and again without a clear outcome on what to do.

“I take it this decision has something to do with her.” I didn’t want to pry. I barely knew the guy personally, except through what Stephanie had told me over the years. But he was a good man. That much I did know.

“I’ve always worried about her.” Gabe skirted around me with another shovelful. “Nana and Papa had the bulk of raising her, but Ivy and I helped, too. Nana’s getting older, and we want to move closer to Colorado to be there for her more permanently. Full time. But we want to be there for Steph, too.” He cleared his throat. “I had a front-row seat watching what she went through with an absentee dad.” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at his sons piling snow mounds higher and higher. “I saw how hard it was on her. And this job… I love it. I love the rush, the guys I work with. But the moving, the deployments.” He blew out a breath, the puff hanging in the air in the low temperatures. “I don’t want my kids to grow up the same way. I don’t want to miss any more milestones.”