they disappear with the dawn.
May all your dreams be sweet ones, Hope.
All my love, Blake
All my love. Hope stared at the note, stared again at the beads and feathers, and touched each bit tenderly.
All my love. The words repeated in her head and she bit down on her lip. Was that the feeling she couldn’t seem to pinpoint? Was it love? It must be, because why else would she feel so miserable?
CHRISTMAS Eve morning dawned as all Christmas Eve mornings should—cold, clear, with a robin’s-egg-blue sky and beams of sunlight that bounced off crystalline snow.
Hope slept in past the sunrise, waking shortly after nine. In Alberta it would be just past seven. Blake was probably up already and finished with the chores. His parents would arrive today from Phoenix for the holiday. He’d open his presents tomorrow, including the one she’d placed under the tree for him before she left.
The idea made her so lonely she curled up in the covers once more, soaking in the last bit of warmth.
But it was Christmas Eve, and there were things to be done. The festival was today, and events were going on all over town. She forced herself out of bed, straightened the covers, and looked in the mirror.
Should she straighten her hair? She looked at the curls tumbling over her shoulders, tighter than usual because it had still been damp when she went to bed. She’d been straightening it for years, but today she wanted to let it go. It looked...relaxed. And she was going to try to relax more. Accept things as they were rather than trying to be in control.
Besides, everyone in Beckett’s Run would remember her with corkscrew curls. She smiled to herself as she dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the holiday? There’d be street vendors with food and hot chocolate, music and events all over town.
And if she joined in maybe she wouldn’t think of Blake quite so much.
That plan was soundly thwarted when she arrived downstairs. Grace was standing at the kitchen counter, pouring a cup of coffee. When Hope walked in Grace simply got another cup out of the cupboard and poured her a drink.
“Hey,” Hope said quietly, wondering if Grace was still mad at her. Their last conversation hadn’t exactly gone well. “Where’s Gram?”
“Hey, yourself.” Grace handed over the cup. “Gram’s helping out with one of the events today. She said you went to bed early. I got in late...”
“I heard you. That board on the porch, remember?” Hope grinned at her sister. “It always did cause you trouble. With J.C. then, too, if I remember right.”
Grace raised an eyebrow. “There was a lot to do to get ready for today. I need to be out the door soon.” She paused. “It’s good to see you, Hope.”
“Really?” Hope sat down at the table. “After our last talk...”
But Grace waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter now. It was good for me to come back. To see Gram. To...”
But she didn’t finish the sentence. “Anyway, how was ranch life? Gram said you were taking pictures for some therapy-type place.”
“It was good.” Hope felt her cheeks heat but ignored it. “It’s a therapeutic riding facility. I took pictures, had a chance to recharge.”
“Is that all?”
The same question Gram had asked. Suddenly Hope felt like she needed her sister very much. Perhaps that had been a lot of the problem—she’d never let herself confide in Grace or Faith. She hadn’t wanted to burden them with her troubles. But they were all grown up now. And, while Hope didn’t want to spill her guts to Gram and get her hopes up, she had the strange urge to tell Grace everything.
“No, it’s not all.” Shyness and a fear of being rejected made her backpedal. “But I doubt you want to hear it.”
Grace sat down at the table. “Try me.”
“I thought you had to skedaddle?”
“I can manage a few minutes.”
Something passed between them then—a simple sort of acceptance, a closeness that had been missing for too long. “The guy that owns the place—Blake—and I...we kind of got involved.”
“How involved?”
Hope felt her face flame yet again. “There’s a slim chance I may have fallen a little bit in love with him.”
Grace sat back in her chair and laughed. “A slim chance? You may have...? Oh, Hope. You haven’t really changed, have you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You always hold back, refuse to let in people who would help you. Who would care for you. You’re so busy protecting yourself from getting hurt that you forget how to live in the process.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it on my account,” Hope said, still feeling the sting of Grace’s words. “I’m sorry I said anything.”
She made a move to get up, but Grace’s next words made her sit right back down again.
“Does he love you, too?”
Did he? He hadn’t said as much.
“I don’t know. He asked if I’d come back after Christmas for a while. But it’s impossible, right? I mean...I live in Australia. It’s no way to run a relationship. And I’m hardly going to throw all that away after a ten-day...well, whatever. Flirtation?”
“You want to know how I see it?” Grace pushed her coffee cup across the table. “You were the oldest. You tried really hard to fill the gaps, especially when we weren’t here with Gram. You tried to be perfect for everyone. But no one is perfect, Hope. And no matter what any of us did you were the responsible one. Faith never wanted to rock the boat, and me...? Well, I tried to get attention in other ways. But none of it made a bit of difference. And now you’re so afraid of getting hurt that you push everyone away.”
She reached over and in a move that was so not Grace, touched Hope’s hand.
“I know a lot of people think I’m the most like Mom. I never stay in one place for long. I’m always after the next thing. But I think you are, Hope. Because you are spending so much time fighting who you really are by trying to be who you think you ought to be. No wonder you’re exhausted.”
In an odd, twisted way Grace made perfect sense.
“I’m scared,” Hope admitted. There was a slight tremor in her voice; it was a tough thing to confess. “I’m scared to take that leap.”
“After our upbringing, of course you are! All I’m saying is don’t let your job stop you. If you love him, wouldn’t he be worth it? You’re a brilliant photographer, Hope. Why else did you think
