Chapter 1

Chapter One

T aylor had never really thought about how much Cate must’ve loved her when she was an infant, but she did now, as she nuzzled Lennon’s tiny neck. Her heart swelled with the warmth only a mother could feel, especially on as special a night as Christmas Eve. The scent of her baby—a mix of baby powder and innocence—was a balm to her frayed nerves. It had been a long journey, these three months since Lennon had arrived, and she wasn’t quite the same person she’d been before. She was a mother now, and her daughter had filled a space in her heart that Taylor hadn’t even known was empty. She’d also learned a valuable lesson in the last months. She wasn’t invincible. Her life was just as fragile as everyone else’s.

Reluctantly, she handed her baby over to Cate, though her arms ached to keep holding her. Her mother was excellent with Lennon, having birthed five of her own kids, but Taylor still fought the urge to do everything herself. Yet, the shadow of self-doubt loomed larger than she liked to admit. She wasn’t quite ready to trust herself with bathing Lennon just yet.

“Come on, Tadpole,” Cate cooed, effortlessly placing Lennon over her shoulder. She disappeared with her down the hall, the soft padding of her steps mixing with the distant hum of Christmas carols playing from the kitchen.

Alice was somewhere outside, most likely helping Jo and Cecil with the litter of new puppies. A stray Labrador mix and her just born litter of seven wiggly pups found in a ditch and brought to the farm the week before—their latest editions to the Walsh Wild Hearts Rescue. Too bad the pups weren’t ready to go—they would’ve had an easy time adopting them out for that special furry gift under the tree.

The house was alive with holiday cheer, twinkling lights and the fresh, pine scent of the Christmas tree that stood tall in the corner, adorned with a patchwork of mismatched ornaments—some new, others hand-me-downs from generations past. Nothing too fancy. Her taste was one of simplicity. And things that brought about memories.

Taylor’s favorite was the small angel at the top, its wings slightly crooked from years of handling. She felt a kinship with the battered figure. It had been through a lot but was still surviving from year to year. It belonged to her grandmother. Adele was living with Cate and Ellis now, having moved from Florida to Georgia recently after her beloved little dog died.

It took some talking, but they’d all convinced her that they wanted her there where she could be near her family for her late years. With Cate and Ellis’ help, she’d rid herself of most of her home’s belongings, other than sentimental objects that she handed out to family members, saying she didn’t need them anymore.

Her property had gone up in value substantially over the years, and the proceeds had landed her a nice nest egg. They’d encouraged her to spend it doing something like travel, or for a new car, but Adele waved all their suggestions away, saying she’d never been a frivolous person and she sure as the dickens wasn’t going to start now .

Adele was loving having a new purpose now and as far as Anna was concerned, was instrumental in keeping all the clients for the Gray Escape Bed & Biscuit in line. The pets were never the problem—it was their people who couldn’t follow rules. Some picked up late, were no shows, or complained if their little Fido was found with a speck of dirt between their paws.

But Adele didn’t take any flak and soon, the customers were realizing that the business was successful enough to turn them away if needed and make them find somewhere else for their pets to stay while they were away.

And none of them wanted that.

The Gray’s boarding business was the most in demand in the county.

Using Diesel’s new harness for support, Taylor carefully got to her feet, the feel of the floor beneath her still unfamiliar after so many weeks confined to bed and wheelchair. She went to the window, where Sam was outside, bundled in a thick jacket, his breath visible in the frosty air as he worked on an engine for Lila’s Lexus. She was one of his best-paying clients and needed it for the next day—and was willing to pay double.

Sam’s hands moved with expert precision, but Taylor knew him well enough to catch the tension in his shoulders. Yes, it was Christmas, and he shouldn’t be working, but they needed the money, and, with her only getting a partial paycheck from work now, every little bit counted. Cate had tried to keep her on the payroll of the family dog boarding business, but Taylor wasn’t going to take money for doing nothing.

She sighed, the cool glass of the window offering little comfort. The sheriff had been kind enough to push her paperwork through without too much trouble or probing, ensuring she was covered under the county’s disability policy. It was only fair—after all, she’d contracted fungal meningitis on the job. But the sixty percent pay didn’t stretch as far as they needed, not with the baby and her medical bills stacking up. And though she was grateful to be on her feet again, she still spent a lot of the day feeling weak and unreliable. She could walk now, yes, but only short distances, and standing for too long felt like running a marathon. A walker was helpful around the house, but, even with that, her arms gave out quickly.

Her gaze shifted back to the living room, where the decorations were set for tonight’s family dinner. The table was covered in a deep red cloth, the edges trimmed with gold embroidery. Plates were already set—dainty flowered China her mother had insisted on using—while candles in brass holders flickered gently. The smells of rosemary, cinnamon, and roasting turkey wafted from the kitchen, filling the house with a cozy, festive aroma. It was the first Christmas she hadn’t been up and doing a lot of the holiday prep herself. Instead, she was the one being fussed over.

Attention-getter was not her favorite role. She’d always focused on seeking respect. It lasted longer than attention. Her phone buzzed on the side table, but she ignored it. Jo had texted earlier, reminding her to "breathe through it" if things got overwhelming.

Her ongoing therapy was supposed to help her process emotions, especially the big ones she’d buried while battling her illness and then through the first weeks of having Lennon in her arms. Soon though, the unease had emerged, then settled and had nearly paralyzed her. But with intense therapy, she was now learning to accept that anxiety was part of her life now.

But old habits die hard.

Sometimes, even now, the struggle of it all threatened to pull her under like quicksand.

But Jo and her therapist’s words were getting through, and Taylor was working on it. Slowly, surely, she was learning how to feel without letting the emotions consume her. Her anxiety coach had introduced her to techniques she never would have imagined trying before—meditation, breathwork, body tapping.

Stuff that had once seemed too abstract now felt necessary.

Now she was learning how much stress could wreak havoc on her already fragile body, and if she had any hope of fully recovering—of being the mother Lennon and Alice needed and the wife that Sam deserved—she had to get control of it.

The Christmas lights blinked rhythmically, and Taylor felt a small smile tug at her lips. She was here. Home. With Sam. With Lennon and Alice.

That was a blessing, wasn’t it?

Diesel, ever the guardian, nudged her leg gently, sensing her distraction. His new harness made standing and moving easier, and she was grateful for his unflinching loyalty. He had been her rock during those long days in the hospital, lying beside her bed, steady and patient.

She rested a hand on his head, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence.

Cate returned, her face lit up in that serene glow she always wore when holding her grandchildren. “She’s down for a nap,” she said softly. “And before you say anything, yes, I sang her that silly lullaby you like.” She winked at Taylor and moved toward the kitchen, humming to herself as she checked on dinner.

Taylor felt the exhaustion creeping in again. Standing too long drained her, but there was a peacefulness in the air tonight, a calm she hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. She moved back to the couch, lowering herself slowly, and let the warmth of the room envelop her.

Sam came inside just as Cate pulled the turkey from the oven, his cheeks red from the cold. He shook the snow off his boots and looked over at Taylor, his eyes softening the moment they met hers. “How are you doing, babe?” he asked, coming over and kneeling beside her. His hand—rough from the day’s work but so familiar, so comforting—found hers.

“I’m good,” she whispered. “Tired, but good.”

Sam kissed her forehead. “You should rest more,” he said, always the worrier. But his smile told her he knew she wouldn’t.

Taylor had never been good at sitting still.

Dinner was almost ready, the smells now filling every corner of the house. Cecil, Ellis, and her sisters would be here soon, with kids in tow. Corbin and Sutton weren’t going to make it, as they were stuck in traffic coming from Nashville, where Corbin had put on a small concert. He was slowly taking on more public venues and they missed seeing him around the farm so much.

For a moment, Taylor let herself soak in the feeling of normalcy. Ignoring the faint pleading within her to get back to her job. To serving the people of Hart’s Ridge. To protecting those she’d pledged to protect. She’d never known a time when she wasn’t busy doing. Outside, snow began to fall, soft flakes drifting lazily from the sky. Christmas lights blinked from the porch and surrounding trees. Inside, Taylor finally felt a sense of peace she hadn’t known she needed. Tonight wasn’t about presents or decorations. It was about being here, together, for Lennon’s first Christmas. And, for now, that was more than enough.