Sleigh Bells in Valentine Valley by Emma Cane

relieved to get away from Kate—it was unsettling to spend time with her, after nine years of passing Ethan from car to car on weekends. What he most noticed was how he had to fight an incredible feeling of sadness, mixed in with a lingering trace of anger he just couldn’t let go of. Every time he thought he’d put the past behind him, something happened to make him realize he might as well be stuck there.
    He munched on shrimp and pretended he was listening to conversations around him, but he was really watching Kate. He wondered if part of his anger was a lack of forgiveness. He’d once thought her career had been more important to her than their marriage, but he wasn’t so certain of that now. His own parents had struggled for years to have children, and his mom had died of cancer when he was only ten. He knew life had to be enjoyed each moment for the precious gift it was. That’s why the miracle of Ethan, though unintended, had been so easy for him to accept and appreciate, whereas for Kate, their baby had changed her carefully planned life. Life wasn’t about schedules, but she hadn’t seen that. She hadn’t been there when Ethan had cried for his mom—
    And then he took a step back from the anger he thought he’d buried. To be honest, Ethan had probably cried for him on the weekends, too.
    Just when the turkey was coming out of the oven and Tom Fenelli was preparing to carve it with elaborate ceremony, the front door opened again and Tony saw two of the widows enter, with his dad following behind. He felt a moment of relief. It wasn’t as if he’d been in a wilderness of enemies, but seeing his father put him back in the holiday mood, especially after his sister had chickened out.
    Kate hadn’t chickened out. She’d come home and faced everyone with her work problems, the job that had defined her life. She might have been humiliated and furious, but she was taking the questions and sidelong glances. He had to give her credit for that.
    â€œHey, Dad,” he said, giving the old man a hug.
    His father, Mario, was tall, and bald above a gray fringe of hair, with a working man’s belly and the big shoulders of his plumbing profession. Though he was semiretired now, he’d always had his own business, so when Tony’s mom had died, Mario had been able to schedule his appointments around his kids’ school activities. He’d attended every one of Tony’s football and hockey games, each of Lyndsay’s marching band competitions. He’d even served on the PTA. They hadn’t had a big house or lots of money, but they’d been happy, and Tony had learned to take things as they came, with the patience his older parents had shown him.
    Mario grinned at him, even as Tony greeted Mrs. Thalberg and Mrs. Palmer. Mrs. Ludlow was having dinner with her own family—not at the White House this year, though they’d all hoped. Mrs. Ludlow’s granddaughter had married the son of President Torres just last May in Valentine Valley, but the president was traveling this November.
    Kate came over to take their coats. “Hello, everyone.” She smiled a bit cautiously at Mario. “Mr. De Luca, Happy Thanksgiving.”
    Tony’s dad returned her smile. “Thanks. You, too, Kate.”
    Kate turned to the ladies. “Let me show you where the appetizers are. How was Thanksgiving lunch at the Silver Creek Ranch?”
    When she moved away, the widows chattering as they trailed behind her, Mario took the beer Tony offered and spoke softly.
    â€œI didn’t know she was coming.”
    â€œI thought Lyndsay would run to you with the news.”
    â€œNope.” Mario frowned. “Where is my baby girl?”
    â€œNot here. Said she was ‘under the weather,’” Tony said, emphasizing his sister’s excuse.
    Mario sighed. “Subtle, isn’t she? I would have thought that if you were fine having