do,” she teased.
Brad reached her, hooked an arm around her neck and gave her a big-brother half hug. “She’s referring to the paper one,” he told her in an exaggerated whisper.
Olivia contrived to look surprised. “Oh!” she said.
Brad laughed and released her from the choke hold. “So what brings you to Stone Creek Ranch, Doc?”
Olivia glanced around, taking in the familiar surroundings. Missing her grandfather, Big John, the way she always did when she set foot on home ground. The place had changed a lot since Brad had semiretired from his career in country music—he’d refurbished the barn, replaced the worn-out fences and built a state-of-the-art recording studio out back. At least he’d given up the concert tours, but even with Meg and fourteen-year-old Carly and the baby in the picture, Olivia still wasn’t entirely convinced that he’d come home to stay.
He’d skipped out before, after all, just like their mother.
“I have a problem,” she said in belated answer to his question.
Meg had gone back inside, but she and Brad remained in the yard.
“What sort of problem?” he asked, his eyes serious.
“A reindeer problem,” Olivia explained. Oh, and I got off to a fine start with your friend the contractor, too.
Brad’s brow furrowed. “A what?”
“I need to get out of this truck,” Ginger transmitted from the passenger seat. “Now.”
With a slight sigh Olivia opened Ginger’s door so she could hop out, sniff the snow and leave a yellow splotch. That done, she trotted off toward the barn, probably looking for Brad’s dog, Willie.
“I found this reindeer,” Olivia said, heading for the back of the Suburban and unveiling Rodney. “I was hoping he could stay here until we find his owner.”
“What if he doesn’t have an owner?” Brad asked reasonably, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair before reaching out to stroke the deer.
“He’s tame,” Olivia pointed out.
“Tame, but not housebroken,” Brad said.
Sure enough, Rodney had dropped a few pellets on his blanket.
“I don’t expect you to keep him in the house,” Olivia said.
Brad laughed. Reached right in and hoisted Rodney down out of the Suburban. The deer stumbled a little, wobbly legged from riding, and looked worriedly up at Olivia.
“You’ll be safe here,” she told the animal. She turned back to Brad. “He can stay in the barn, can’t he? I know you have some empty stalls.”
“Sure,” Brad said after a hesitation that would have been comical if Olivia hadn’t been so concerned about Rodney. “Sure,” he repeated.
Knowing he was about to ruffle her hair, the way he’d done when she was a little kid, Olivia took a step back.
“I want something in return, though,” Brad continued.
“What?” Olivia asked suspiciously.
“You, at our table, on Thanksgiving,” he answered. “No excuses about filling in at the clinic. Ashley and Melissa are both coming, and Meg’s mother, too, along with her sister, Sierra.”
The invitation didn’t come as any surprise to Olivia—Meg had mentioned holding a big Thanksgiving blowout weeks ago—but the truth was, Olivia preferred to work on holidays. That way, she didn’t miss Big John so much, or wonder if their long-lost mother might come waltzing through the door, wanting to get to know the grown children she’d abandoned so many years before.
“Livie?” Brad prompted.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be here. But I’m on call over Thanksgiving, and all the other vets have families, so if there’s an emergency—”
“Liv,” Brad broke in, “you have a family, too.”
“I meant wives, husbands, children,” Olivia said, embarrassed.
“Two o’clock, you don’t need to bring anything, and wear something you haven’t delivered calves in.”
She glared up at him. “Can I see my nephew now,” she asked, “or is there a dress code for that, too?”
Brad laughed. “I’ll get Rudolph settled in a nice, cozy stall while you go inside. Check the attitude at the door—Meg wasn’t kidding when she said she was in the holiday spirit. Of course, she’s working extra hard at it this year, with Carly away.”
Willie and Ginger came from behind the barn, Willie rushing to greet Olivia.
“His name is Rodney,” Olivia said. “Not Rudolph.”
Brad gave her a look and started for the barn, and Rodney followed uncertainly, casting nary a backward glance at Olivia.
Willie, probably clued in by Ginger, was careful to give Rodney a lot of dog-free space. Olivia bent to scratch his ears.
He’d healed up nicely since being attacked by a wolf or coyote pack on the mountain rising above Stone Creek Ranch. With help from Brad and Meg, Olivia had brought him back to town for surgery and follow-up care. He’d bonded with Brad, though, and been his dog ever since.
With Ginger and Willie following, Olivia went into the house.
Mac’s playpen stood empty in the living room.
Olivia stepped into the nearest bathroom to wash her hands, and when she came out, Meg was standing in the hallway, holding six-month-old Mac. He stretched his arms out to Olivia and strained toward her, and her heart melted.
She took the baby eagerly and nuzzled his neck to make him laugh. His blondish hair stood up all over his head, and his dark blue eyes were round with mischievous excitement. Giggling, he tried to bite Olivia’s nose.
“He’s grown!” Olivia told Meg.
“It’s only been a week since you saw him last,” Meg chided, but she beamed with pride.
Olivia felt a pang, looking at her. Wondered what it would be like to be that happy.
Meg, blond like her husband and son, tilted her head to one side and gave Olivia a humorously pensive once-over. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” Olivia said, too quickly. Mac was gravitating toward his playpen, where he had a pile of toys, and Meg took him and gently set him inside it. She turned back to Olivia.
Just then Brad blew in on a chilly November wind. Bent to pat Ginger and Willie.
“Rudolph is snug in his stall,” Brad said. “Having some oats.”
“Rudolph?” Meg asked, momentarily distracted.
Olivia
