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Isabella and Emma get a jewelry box in their favorite colors and a twirling ballerina horse inside. Isabella's is turquoise, and Emma's is pink. Each comes with a matching horse bracelet.

Knox's is my favorite gift out of the kids. I asked Daddy to make a wooden rocking horse with his name engraved into the side. He had me sneak a photo of the Cartwright Ranch logo to him. Then he stamped it on the saddle. It arrived three days ago, and it's beyond beautiful.

The men were a lot harder. I finally decided on a decorative branding iron for Jacob with the Cartwright Ranch name and established date. It's a beautiful piece and will look great hanging wherever he chooses.

The brothers each get leather valet trays for their keys, wallet, watch, etc. I added the Cartwright ranch logo in the center.

Mama and I finish wrapping everything. I go into the bedroom and pull the package I've been hiding in the closet. I take it back out to the kitchen and set it on the table, admitting, "I'm nervous about Jagger's present."

Mama tilts her head. "Why?"

"Because it's…a lot."

Mama picks up the framed photo, and a teary smile appears. "I think he'll love it." She sets it down, gets up, and squeezes my shoulder. "I'm going to shower."

I stare at it and debate some more. The frame is dark wood with two spaces. On the left is Charlie's sixteen-week ultrasound. On the right is a picture Mama took of me at thirty-seven weeks pregnant. I'm standing sideways in front of the barn with both hands around my enormous belly, wearing leggings and Daddy's old T-shirt because nothing else fit.

My hair is a mess. My ankles are swollen. But I'm smiling down at Charlie.

Beneath the pictures is a small engraved plate.

Before you knew us, we were already yours.

My throat tightens.

Jagger hates everything he missed. He never got to put his hand on my stomach and feel Charlie kick. Or take me to the hospital when I had Braxton Hicks false contractions. And this is the closest I can come to giving him a piece of it back.

I wrap the frame in dark green paper, then reach for the card and write my message.

Jagger,

Even when you weren't in front of me, you were.

Merry Christmas.

I love you.

I stare at the blank space underneath. My nerves kick higher. But I force myself to write more.

P.S. Make me send you the video.

My stomach immediately drops. For a long moment, I stare at my phone.

Maybe I shouldn't give him this.

He'll hate knowing I was alone.

He'll turn it into another thing he should've somehow known.

My fingers close around the card.

I could cross out the line.

But then I think about all the questions he asks.

When did she first kick?

What did I crave?