“Incoming!” Alice shrieked. A second later, a snowball, thrown by Jack, who was high up on the ladder and had scooped a handful of snow off the roof, whizzed by her head and landed at their feet.
“No fair,” Jo called up at him. “Come down and fight like a man—” She cut off with a shout when Hunter ducked out from behind the stairs to the back porch and pelted her with snow.
“Battle stations, ladies!” Cass cried.
“Porch fortress!” Lena yelled.
Wye hurried after the others, who seemed to know exactly what to do. They dashed around the end of the back porch and set to work.
“We need all the snowballs we can get. Lena, can you hold them at bay?” Alice asked.
“You know I can.” Lena whipped one snowball after another as Jo placed them in her hand.
“Help me build a wall,” Sadie hissed at Wye.
Wye followed her lead, dove to her knees by Lena and began to scoop armfuls of snow into position in front of her. Alice joined them. Cass got down awkwardly and helped, too. When the wall was tall and thick enough to shield Lena and Jo, they worked outward, building a thick bulwark that connected to the side of the porch, so they were sheltered on two sides.
“Bring it around,” Sadie said, and Wye kept adding to the wall, wrapping it around to protect their flank, as Alice joined Jo in keeping Lena stocked with snowballs.
“They’re mounting an attack!” Jo cried.
Wye looked up, saw the men advancing, Emerson among them, and ducked as a snowball whizzed right by her head.
“Defense positions!” Lena called.
Wye joined the others at the wall. As one, they hurtled a fusillade of snowballs at the men, beating them back.
The men regrouped, came at them again, snowballs flying thick and fast, but the women had used the respite to make more of their own and threw them as fast as they could. Wye caught sight of Connor ducking away, coming back again a minute later, loaded down with something—were those plastic sleds?
“Shields up, men!” he shouted, tossing a sled to each of them. The men caught them handily. Raised them.
“Make a phalanx,” Logan called out. They held up the sleds vertically side by side and began to advance. The women’s snowballs hit the sleds and slid off them harmlessly.
“Damn it, it’s the old shield-wall trick,” Lena said.
“We need a catapult,” Jo said.
“Well, we don’t have one,” Lena told her.
“We need something!” Cass said. “They’re coming fast!”
It was too late. Jack vaulted their wall first with a thunderous cry, and a moment later the rest of the men had burst through. They were met with close-quarters hand-to-hand snowball combat, with more than one man receiving a dollop of snow down the collar of his jacket from his wife.
They ended in a tangled heap, lying on their backs in the ruined fort, staring up at the sky, breathing hard. Wye noticed that Brian had made sure to protect Cass from the worst of the melee, pulling her into his arms and lowering her down gently in the snow. Now they lay together, Cass cuddled in his arms.
“We won,” Jack said.
“The hell you did,” Lena said. “The whole thing was a ruse to draw you over here so we can have our way with you.”
Wye snorted. “Trust a Reed girl to always turn out to be in control in the end.”
“You said a mouthful,” Brian sighed.
“Why don’t we do this more often?” Jo said. “Lie in a heap and look at the stars?”
“It could be a new tradition,” Wye said. She looked at Emerson, who’d ended up next to her, and hoped the horseplay hadn’t hurt his ankle. She knew better than to ask. His expression was contented, however, as he gazed up at the night sky. All seemed well.
“I’m down for it,” Logan said.
“Me, too,” Cass said. “And when we get cold, we can head inside and set up the Christmas tree. It’ll need to dry overnight, but we can decorate it tomorrow.”
“You got any more hot chocolate?” Sadie asked.
“Of course.”
“Then let’s go.”
Chapter 8
‡
“Everything okay?” Wye asked Emerson as they trailed after the rest of the party into the house. She brushed the snow off her coat the best she could.
Emerson helped her. “Yeah, I’m good.” Really good, actually. After the women had headed outside earlier, the house had seemed unnaturally quiet—until Connor had come and collared him.
“Come on, Myers. We’ve got work to do.” He’d dumped a string of Christmas lights in Emerson’s hands and led the way to where Jack, Brian, Logan and Hunter were lugging more of them up from where they’d been stored in the basement. All of them trooped outside where Emerson, Logan and Hunter had worked on detangling the long strings of lights while Brian and Jack climbed the ladder to hang them.
For once Emerson hadn’t felt any awkwardness with the other men. They’d ribbed him as much as they had each other. Ordered him around with the same casual goodwill. When they’d spotted the women trudging home with the Christmas tree, it was Jack who’d instigated the snowball fight, but everyone had expected him to join in.
Maybe he’d found a place here after all.
“You seemed a little distant last night,” Wye said.
He supposed he had. “Working things out in my head, I guess. Hard to know where I stand around here sometimes.” He was feeling more confident about his position now, though.
When Wye tossed her head back and laughed, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What’s so funny?”
“Cass and the others set me a straight concerning that tonight. And I think they’re right.”
“What did they say?”
“That you can’t wait for an invitation to belong. You have to decide that you
