we longed to hold you in our arms,
but it never came to be.
God now holds your tiny hand,
He's given you a name;
your coos and giggles grace Heaven's ears,
but we'll miss you just the same.
The twinkle in your little eyes,
now lights the sky at night.
God holds you close in loving arms,
you're always in His sight.
A tiny hand we'll never hold,
we have no reason why;
but we'll always hold you in our hearts,
even though we said good-bye.
Lance felt a tug on his heart as Brook read the words. Not so long ago, he'd hoped to be a father. Fate had stepped in and stolen the dream from him, too. Brook's sorrow brought his to the surface. He wanted to hold her but she sat so still he was afraid to touch her. He waited.
“After the ritual with the book I felt better. It was like I had managed to find some closure. But then, I went home. There was the nursery door, still unopened, still haunting me. Clark made the decision that brought me some true peace. He sold our house and we moved.”
Her eyes held a faraway look. “You wouldn’t believe the difference between the two houses. Our first home was an old Victorian, not Clark’s choice but one he went along with to make me happy. I loved that house; it was so comfortable with the hardwood floors, area rugs, and old furniture. When we moved we entered the modern world; glass and chrome fills the house. The new house has never felt like mine; it’s Clark's through and through.” She smiled up into Lance’s eyes. “I feel more at home here in this cabin than I have ever felt there.”
Lance beamed. “It
“It is,” Brook agreed. “Comfortable, safe, and right in the middle of some of the most beautiful scenery on earth. Of course, I may be a bit prejudiced because I also associate this house with my rescue and the man who saved my life.”
Her eyes held such frank admiration that Lance had to look away. His heart started a slow but heavy thumping under her gaze and warmth stole over him. If he didn’t reign in these feelings she inspired, he might find himself acting upon them. He didn’t want to take the chance of scaring Brook away from him entirely and lose the friendship they had cultivated. Brook noticed Lance’s discomfort and changed the subject. “As much as I love the cabin, I have to admit I have cabin fever. Do you think I could go out with you when you do your chores?”
“That’d be great,” Lance said and then stared at Brook’s feet. “We’ll have to find something for you to wear besides the moccasins; they’d be soaked through in a few minutes.” He contemplated the situation and then said, “Come with me.”
Brook followed him to his bedroom where he picked up several pairs of boots, discarding one pair after another. Finally, he selected a pair and said, “These are snug on me. I know they’ll be way too large for you, but maybe with several pairs of socks you can use them.”
Brook ended up using four pairs of socks and the boots were still loose, but they would protect her feet from the snow. Now all she needed was a coat and gloves and she’d be ready to tackle the outside.
Lance bundled her up in extra clothing and one of his coats. His clothes were so big on her, it bordered on ludicrous. She looked like a child dressed in grownup clothing, and he couldn’t help but grin. Unaware of her comical appearance, Brook smiled back and Lance’s heart did a small flip. He led the way and they tromped outside.
As Lance went about his chores, Brook breathed in the crisp cold air and let her eyes wander over the snow- covered trees. The peaks in the distance were veiled in ragged gray clouds, and the land seemed to sleep under its blanket of white. She felt renewed.
“Hey!” Lance pointed toward the outer boundary. “The wild herd makes its appearance. Want to feed them?”
Brook looked at the small group of goats gathered nervously nearby.
“Sure,” she said.
“Okay, don’t make any quick moves. I’ll get you some hay and you can start tossing it to them. Once they get to know you, they’ll be a lot more trusting.” He ducked into the other side of the shed and came back with a wedge of tightly packed hay. She took it from him and began tearing small clumps from it and tossing them away from her. Timidly, first one goat and then another approached, grabbed a bite, and backed off. Watching her with their peculiar eyes, they chewed thoughtfully.
Gilbert walked boldly up to Brook and nabbed a healthy bite. She allowed Brook to pat her shoulder. Gilbert stood unafraid next to Brook and the other goats became less wary and approached her. She could hardly tear a piece away before it was snatched from her hand.
Things were going so well, Brook decided to pet one of the wild goats. The minute she did, however, it panicked and ran. The other goats followed, disappearing into the trees. Gilbert stood with a placid expression on her face and watched them go.
“I scared them off,” Brook said, disappointed.
“They’ll be back. Not to worry,” Lance told her and set about his chores. Brook walked around the area, looking at each small outbuilding and admiring the outside of the cabin. She brushed the snow off a stump and sat down to watch Lance work.
Lance was grappling with a loose section of fence when he felt a thud against his insulated hood.
“Oh, no,” he said, turning slowly. “You did
Brooklyn stared innocently into the distance, as if studying the sky. She seemed not to hear him. Lance shrugged and returned to his task. Perhaps some snow had broken away from the branches above him and fallen. A minute later, another wad of snow hit the back of his head. This time, when he turned, he caught Brook’s mischievous look and the fight was on.
Lance was surprised at the accuracy of her aim. She nailed him a number of times and ducked several of his return volleys.
“Years in Little League,” she called with a laugh, explaining her proficiency. She did a bob and weave before flinging another snowball his way.
He marched over to her, his hands full of snow. She tried to run, but with the ungainly boots hampering her efforts, she lost her footing in a deep drift. Lance easily caught up with her and dumped the snow over her head. He smirked. “Revenge is best served cold,” he said over her giggles. He held out a hand to help her up. With unexpected strength, she pulled instead and he tumbled into the drift with her. She rubbed handfuls of snow into his face, squealing with delight at his surprised expression.
Grabbing her hands, he gently held her arms down. Now he was lying partially on top of her, their faces close. They were winded from laughter and exertion as their gazes met and held.
Seconds before their lips joined, they sensed the impending kiss, the magnetism of their feelings for each other drawing them together at last. The world seemed to halt, all sounds ceased in that moment. Lance started to pull away, but Brook strained upward to continue the contact, and he gave in to the urgency. Tenderly, they clung to each other in the snow, their passion warming them.
“Sweet Brooklyn,” he murmured against her mouth and laid his cheek against hers. She placed her gloved hands on either side of his face and turned his lips back to hers. Had Gilbert not chosen that exact moment to nibble on Lance’s hood, they might have gone on kissing. But Gilbert was persistent and kept tugging. Lance tried to swat her away, but to no avail.
Brook giggled under him and he laughed.
“I think she’s jealous. She wants some attention,” he said as he pulled Brook to her feet.
“Well, I don’t blame her,” Brook said. “I needed a little attention myself.”
