Page 123 of Deck the Hauls

“What were you going to say before, when Olivia interrupted?” Dana asked as the music faded out.

“Oh, just that...I love you,” I murmured, gazing at Dana.

Dana grinned. “I was hoping it was that. It’s been on the tip of my tongue all night.”

“Does that mean⁠—”

“Yes, of course. I love you too.”

I broke into a huge smile. What an incredible ending to the year. I couldn’t wait to see what next year held for us.

EPILOGUE

TEN MONTHS LATER

DANA

“Hey, babe, do you know where the roasting forks are?”

I looked up from emptying a packet of graham crackers on a platter to find Emily beaming at me, her hair falling in waves from under her beanie, nose and cheeks pink from setting up outside. She reached out, grabbed a piece of chocolate off the platter and popped it in her mouth, a cheeky smile on her face.

I pulled her close for a kiss. She smelled of wood smoke, the taste of chocolate fresh on her lips.

“Mmm,” I hummed, wrapping my arms around her waist.

The alarm on my phone sounded, and I reluctantly disentangled myself so I could stop the beeping. As I turned it off, I saw the time. Our friends would be arriving any minute for our lasagna-and-s’mores night. More kisses would have to wait.

I turned around and opened the bottom drawer under the counter, pulling out the roasting forks.

“Here you are. Thanks, cuteness.” I handed them to Emily. “I’d better check on the lasagna.”

I opened the oven, a blast of mouthwatering hot air hitting me. The top of the lasagna was golden brown and bubbling. I grinned. We’d spent the last ten months trying to perfect our lasagna game. While we hadn’t yet made one that rivaled Emily’s parents’, perhaps we would get lucky tonight. In any event, it would still be delicious. You couldn’t go wrong with pasta, meat sauce and béchamel.

I grabbed the oven mitts and pulled the lasagna out, setting it on the stove top.

“Can I do anything else to help?” Lucia asked, appearing in the door frame with blankets from the linen closet piled in a wicker basket. The fire was strong, but temperatures had dropped significantly now it was October, and I didn’t want anyone to be uncomfortably cold.

“Thank you! If you have time, would you mind checking where Freddie is?”

Three months ago, Emily and I had received a call from the animal shelter in Beacon, letting us know they’d received our application and inviting us over to meet their dogs. We’d fallen in love with Freddie immediately, a scruffy fifteen-month-old Anatolian Shepherd-Golden Retriever mix. He was affectionate, loved hanging out with me while I worked on the farm—although very sensibly stayed a safe distance away from me when I chopped wood—and generally got along well with the other animals, except the chickens who he seemed to have a personal vendetta against. He rarely wandered off, but he was still a puppy so I liked to keep a close eye on him. The last thing I wanted was for him to have a run-in with our resident porcupine, who, after a break over the warmer months, had shown up last week to nibble at one of the fir trees despite all the deterrents I’d put in place. We’d reached an uneasy truce for now, but Freddie being spiked by quills would undermine all that.

A knock on the door sounded, followed by a familiar thud and then a patter of canine footsteps racing through the living room.

“Never mind,” I said with a grin. “He must have been on our bed. In that case, I think we’re all good to go.”

I stepped into the living room to see Freddie wagging his tail next to the front door. I gave him an affectionate back rub as I opened the door. Roz and Olivia were standing on our doorstep holding a salad bowl and some sodas, bundled up in beanies, their warmest coats and gloves in accordance with our instructions. George, Hannah, Blake, and Jenny were just pulling up in Blake’s car. They tumbled out laden with George’s freshly baked sourdough loaves, wine, and a cheese platter.

Once bags and offerings were offloaded and greetings exchanged, everyone piled lasagna, bread, and salad on their plates, grabbed their drink of choice, and then stepped outside to the fire pit in the backyard. Before taking a seat on one of the chairs circling the pit, I threw two more logs on the fire, watching as they popped, sending sparks flying and then were quickly encased in licking flames.

“What a gorgeous night.” Hannah looked up at the sky. “You can see the stars so much more clearly out on the farm.”

“The fire is spectacular as well,” Jenny said, her face lit by its golden glow, holding out her hands in front of the fire.

As the flames danced and crackled, we started to eat.

“This lasagna is incredible,” George said. “Can I get the recipe? This would be perfect for the winter menu at the café.”

“I’ll text it to you.” Emily grinned.