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“I don’t think there will be anything,” she said sadly. “I…I just don’t have many good memories of anyone in my life. Well, besides Danny and now Link.”

“We’ll find something,” Etta told her. She pulled over another box and started sorting through the leftover ornaments.

Sammy got down and began to help too. “I always hang one for my sister and brother-in-law,” she said. “And believe it or not, my first year here, I found a rocking horse for Patrick. He’d built one for Link when he was a baby, and oh, that boy loved riding his rocking horse.” She smiled with all the tender love of a parent, and Misty sure hoped she could feel that way about her babies.

“And for my sister, I found a cardinal. Simple, and I’ve learned that Priscilla made many birds and cardinals over the years. But my sister loved birdwatching, and that ornament spoke to my heart. It reminded me that God knew me and loved me, and I hang one of the birds for Link’s momma every year.”

“So maybe God doesn’t love me or know me,” Misty said without thinking.

All three women stared at her, and Etta reacted first. “That’s just not true, my darling girl. He knows you. He loves you. There’s something here for you. I just know it.”

“I found a racecar my first Christmas here,” Oakley said as she joined them. “If you can believe that.”

Out came crescent moons, and pine trees, and sun hats. None of them called to Misty.

She moved to the last box—her last hope. She just needed to keep looking. She’d look again and again, and she’d find something. Surely Etta wouldn’t lie to her. They’d all found something just for them. Everyone had. Why shouldn’t she?

So, she looked down, and there, nestled among several other ornaments, sat a little log cabin.

Her hand gravitated toward it like it had a magnet on it and she’d suddenly been fitted with an iron fist. She lifted it with a soft, “Oh, my goodness. It’s the cabin I lived in here on the ranch. The one Link prepped for me the night of the fire.”

The whole world slowed, for surely that cabin wasn’t as old as this ornament. She took in the spaces for windows, and the darling little chimney on the roof, the near perfect corners, the round logs going up the sides. She looked at Oakley, Etta, Zona, and Sammy.

“It’s my home.” Tears rolled down her face, and Misty let the women sweep her into their arms and hold her tight.

“That’s right, Misty,” Sammy whispered. “You’ve come home.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Link pulled up to Misty’s house and found her suitcase on the porch, but not her. He took it to his truck and put it in the back with his bag. His nerves for this road trip fired at him as he walked back to her front door and knocked.

He’d been teasing her about going away for Thanksgiving, but he’d never dreamed they’d actually do it. And they weren’t, not really.

They were going to Dallas to move her out of her apartment, clean it, and list it for sale. She wasn’t going back there, and she saw no reason to pay for it when she wasn’t going to use it again.

They’d technically be back in Three Rivers, at Shiloh Ridge, on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. They’d be here for the stuffing, the homemade croutons, the turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy. All of it. So they weren’t really missing anything except work.

Link wasn’t upset about that, as he hardly ever took any days off work. He knocked again, this time calling, “Misty,” as he opened the door.

“She’s quietly freaking out,” Janie said, only her eyes moving from the magazine she held as she lay on the couch. “Down the hall, first room on the right.”

Link’s frown flattened out, and he nodded to Janie. “Thank you, Janie. Are you still coming up to the ranch for Thanksgiving?”

She smiled and said, “Of course. Are you still coming to our Friendsgiving on Friday?”

“Of course,” he said in the exact same way she had. He flashed her a smile and went down the hall to Misty’s bedroom. He hadn’t spent any time here, but he only had to stand in the doorway to see how quintessentially Misty her space was.

Floral curtains. A pristinely made bed. Her charging cord draped over the nightstand so she wouldn’t have to bend to retrieve it. Two notebooks on her nightstand. Closet doors closed.

“Hey,” Link said, and Misty turned from the window, where she’d been looking out. “I put your bag in the truck.”

The tension in Misty’s face dissolved away. “Thanks.” She came toward him, each step reminding him how much he loved her. Today, she wore long pants somewhere between dark blue and dark purple, with wide legs that swayed with each step. Her blouse was blue, green, and purple, perfectly matched to the pants.

“You’re not wearing shoes,” he said.

“They’re in the kitchen.” She ran her hands up his chest. “We should go so we’re on schedule, right?”

“We have no schedule, love.” He grinned at her and leaned down to kiss her. “We can stop when you want, where you want. It’s three hundred and fifty miles, give or take, and we can do that about five hours, straight through.”