Carefully, eyes watering a little, he hooked the bells in place.
“You know,” Papa said, “this place belongs to you and Kimmie. We set it up so I’m a life tenant, but it’s already yours.”
Jason nodded. He knew about the provisions allowed to family farmers, made to ensure later generations like Jason and Kimmie wouldn’t have to pay heavy inheritance taxes.
“I’m working the farm okay now. But you’ll need to think about the future. There’s gonna come a time when I’m not able.”
“I’m thinking on it.” They’d had this conversation soon after Gran had died, so Jason wondered where his grandfather was going with it.
“I imagine Kimmie left her half to you.”
Oh. That was why. He coughed away the sudden roughness in his throat. “Lawyer’s going to call back tomorrow and go through her will.”
“That’s fine, then.” Papa went to the barn door. “Need a break and some coffee. You finish hitching and pull it up.” He paused, then added, “If you remember how.”
The dig wasn’t lost on Jason. It had been years since he’d driven horses or, for that matter, helped with the farm.
It wasn’t like he’d been eating bonbons or walking on the beach. But he’d definitely let his family down. He had to do better.
By the time he’d figured out the hitches and pulled the sleigh up to the front door of the old white house, Papa was on the porch with a huge armload of blankets. “They’ll be right out,” he said.
“Who?”
“Erica and the babies.”
“Those babies can’t come! They’re little!”
Papa waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve always taken the little ones. Safer than a car.”
“But it’s cold!” Even though it wasn’t frostbite weather, the twins weren’t used to Pennsylvania winters. “They’re from Arizona!”
“So were you, up until you started elementary school.” Papa chuckled. “Why, your parents brought you to visit at Christmas when you were only three months old, and Kimmie was, what, five? You both loved the ride, and no harm done.”
And they’d continued to visit the farm and ride in the sleigh every Christmas after they’d moved back to the Pittsburgh area. Even when their parents had declined to go to church, Gran and Papa had insisted on taking them. Christmases on the farm had been one of the best parts of his childhood.
Maybe Kimmie had held on to some of those memories, too.
He fought down his emotions. “I don’t trust Erica. There’s something going on with her.”
Papa didn’t answer, and when Jason looked up, he saw that Erica had come out onto the porch. Papa just lifted an eyebrow and went to help her get the twins into the sleigh.
Had she heard what he’d said? But what did it matter if she had; she already knew he thought she was hiding something.
“This is amazing!” She stared at the sleigh and horses, round-eyed. “It’s like a movie! Only better. Look, Mikey, horses!” She pointed toward the big furry-footed draft horses, their breath steaming in the cold, crisp air.
“Uuusss,” Mikey said.
Erica’s gloved hand—at least Papa had found her gloves—flew to her mouth. “That’s his second word! Wow!”
“What did he say?” It had sounded like nonsense to Jason.
“He said horse. Didn’t you, you smart boy?” Erica danced the twins around until they both giggled and yelled.
Papa lifted one of the babies from her arms and held him out to Jason. “Hold this one, will you?”
“But I...” He didn’t have a choice, so he took the baby, even though he knew less than nothing about them. In his police work, whenever there’d been a baby to handle, he’d foisted it off on other officers who already had kids.
He put the baby on his knee, and the baby—was this Mikey?—gestured toward the horses and chortled. “Uuusss! Uuusss!”
Oh. Uuusss meant horse.
“I’ll hold this one, and you climb in,” Papa said to Erica. “Then I’ll hand ’em to you one at a time, and you wrap ’em up in those blankets.” Papa sounded like a pro at all of this, and given that he’d done it already for two generations, Jason guessed he was.
Once both twins were bundled, snug between Papa and Erica, Jason set the horses to trotting forward. The sun was up now, making millions of diamonds on the snow that stretched across the hills, far into the distance. He smelled pine, a sharp, resin-laden sweetness.
When he picked up the pace, the sleigh bells jingled.
“Real sleigh bells!” Erica said, and then, as they approached the white covered bridge, decorated with a simple wreath for Christmas, she gasped. “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
Jason glanced back, unable to resist watching her fall in love with his home.
Papa was smiling for the first time since he’d learned of Kimmie’s death. And as they crossed the bridge and trotted toward the church, converging with other horse-drawn sleighs, Jason felt a sense of rightness.
“Over here, Mr. S!” cried a couple of chest-high boys, and Jason pulled the sleigh over to their side of the temporary hitching post.
“I’ll tie ’em up,” Papa said, climbing out of the sleigh.
Mikey started babbling to Teddy, accompanied by gestures and much repetition of his new word, uuusss. Teddy tilted his head to one side and burst forth with his own stream of nonsense syllables, seeming to ask a question, batting Mikey on the arm. Mikey waved toward the horses and jabbered some more, as if he were explaining something important.
They were such personalities, even as little as they were. Jason couldn’t help smiling as he watched them interact.
Once Papa had the reins set and the horses tied up, Jason jumped out of the sleigh and then turned to help Erica down. She handed him a twin. “Can you hold Mikey?”
He caught a whiff of baby powder and pulled the little one tight against his shoulder. Then he reached out to help Erica, and she took his hand to climb down, Teddy on her hip.
When he held her hand, something electric seemed to travel right to his heart. Involuntarily he squeezed and held on.
She drew in a sharp breath as she looked at him, some mixture of puzzlement and awareness in her eyes.
And then Teddy grabbed her hair and yanked, and Mikey struggled to get to her, and the connection was lost.
The next few minutes were a blur of greetings and “been too long” came from seemingly everyone in the congregation.
“Jason Stephanidis,” said Mrs. Habler, a good-hearted pillar of the church whom he’d known since childhood. She’d held back until the other congregants had drifted toward the church, probably so she could probe for the latest news. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
He put an arm around her. “Good to see you, Mrs. Habler.”
“And this must be your wife and boys. Isn’t that sweet. Twins have always run in your family. You know, I don’t think your mother ever got over losing her twin so young.”
Mother had been a twin?
Erica cleared her throat. “We’re actually just family friends, passing through. No relation to Jason.”
The words sounded