Page 52 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)

Snow fell softly outside the Victorian windows, the December evening bringing an early darkness that made the house feel even cozier.

Jessica adjusted the final ornament on the tree, stepping back to assess her work.

The Fraser fir, seven feet tall and meticulously decorated, dominated the living room corner—though she’d already had to replace the bottom layer of ornaments twice after Mr. Darcy’s attacks.

“Perfect,” Ali said, waddling into the room with a mug of hot chocolate cradled above her eight-month baby bump. “Though I notice you’ve left a cat-free zone at the bottom.”

“Tactical decision,” Jessica replied, accepting the mug Ali offered. “Mr. Darcy considers the lower branches his personal playground, and Empress has developed a taste for tinsel. Silver threaded cat poo doesn’t make it any more attractive.”

As if summoned by her name, Empress appeared on the window seat, her amber eyes reflecting the colorful lights. She observed the festive scene with indifference, though Jessica had caught her batting at a low-hanging silver ball earlier when she thought no one was looking.

“First Christmas in our home,” Ali said, easing herself onto the sofa with a soft groan. “Well, technically yours for longer, but first as ours. First as a family.”

Jessica settled beside her, one hand automatically finding its place on Ali’s rounded belly. “First of many,” she agreed, her voice soft with contentment.

The past eighteen months had transformed them both.

Jessica’s promotion to partner had brought new responsibilities but also greater flexibility.

Ali’s foundation had secured not just the hospital grant but additional private funding through Walter’s connections, allowing the program to expand into three more medical facilities across Denver.

Even Jessica’s relationship with her mother had evolved, the frosty distance gradually thawing into something resembling cautious acceptance.

Lakshmi had surprised them both by arriving last weekend with a handmade quilt for the baby—apparently created with help from Yaya, an unlikely friendship that still made Jessica’s head spin.

“Have you wrapped your mother’s gift yet?” Ali asked, leaning into Jessica’s warmth.

“This morning,” Jessica confirmed. “Though I’m still not sure what possessed you to suggest matching sweaters for us and my parents.”

Ali grinned. “The family Christmas photo opportunity was too good to pass up. Besides, your mother’s face when she realizes she’s expected to wear a sweater with actual fuzzy cats on it? Worth every penny.”

“You’re incorrigible!”

From the kitchen came the sound of something crashing to the floor, followed by an indignant meow. Jessica sighed. “That would be Ernest investigating the gingerbread house.”

“I told you we should have put it in the pantry,” Ali reminded her. “He’s been eyeing it since we brought it home.”

“I thought the countertop was safe,” Jessica admitted, making no move to get up. Some battles weren’t worth fighting, especially six weeks before their daughter’s expected arrival.

Ali nestled closer, her head finding its place on Jessica’s shoulder. “What do you think she’ll make of all this? Our little girl, coming into a house with eight cats, two dogs, and two moms?”

“I think she’ll be the most loved, most adaptable child in Denver,” Jessica replied, brushing a kiss against Ali’s temple. “How could she not be, surrounded by so much... variety?”

Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the Victorian’s gabled roof and wrought-iron fence in pristine white.

Inside, Ernest sauntered in from the kitchen, looking suspiciously satisfied, a smudge of icing visible on his whiskers.

He jumped onto the sofa and settled against Ali’s side, his weight creating a dip in the cushions.

“Do you think about London?” Ali asked suddenly. “What might have been?”

Jessica considered the question, her hand still making small circles on Ali’s belly where their daughter kicked and stretched beneath her palm. “No,” she said finally. “Not even for a moment.”

“Really?” Ali looked up at her. “Not even when Walter gets back from his quarterly London trip with all those stories about international finance and meetings with Parliament members?”

“I’ve found that running sustainable investments from Denver with a seven-cat quality control team is challenge enough,” Jessica replied with a smile. “Besides, have you seen how they do Christmas in London? All that rain. Terrible for outdoor decorations.”

Ali laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that still made Jessica’s heart skip. “Valid point. Though I hear they have excellent tea.”

“We have excellent everything right here,” Jessica said, pulling her closer. “Career, home, family-to-be. Even my mother is coming around, though I’m still not convinced she won’t try to sneak college prospectuses into the baby’s crib.”

“Speaking of cribs,” Ali said, “I found Empress in there again this morning, curled up on the blanket your mother sent.”

“That cat,” Jessica sighed, though there was only fondness in her tone. “She’s appointed herself guardian of the nursery. I’ve given up trying to keep her out.”

“She’s just preparing to welcome Vivian,” Ali said softly. “They’re all preparing in their own ways. Ernest keeps sleeping against my stomach when the baby’s active, like he’s trying to calm her. And Mr. Darcy inspects every new baby item we bring into the house.”

“Quality control,” Jessica agreed. “He’s particularly thorough with stuffed animals.”

As the evening deepened into night, they remained on the sofa, reluctant to break the peaceful moment.

Ernest began to snore softly against Ali’s side, while Mr. Darcy maintained his vigilant watch over the Christmas tree.

Outside, Denver disappeared beneath a perfect blanket of snow, the world quieting as if in preparation for the new life that would soon join them.

“Merry Christmas, Ali,” Jessica whispered, feeling a contentment so complete it almost ached. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Ali replied, her voice drowsy with comfort.

In the nursery upstairs, Empress kept her silent watch over the crib where, in just a few weeks, Vivian Porter Ritchie-Taylor would begin her life—surrounded by love, family, and seven cats who had, in their own unique way, brought this unexpected family together.