Though in the distance he could almost hear the sounds of celebration coming from the court house, Wayne was not disappointed about missing most of the party. He was getting more used to living in a pack, and there would be plenty of time for bonding with all of them later—for now, he was doing his best to make sure his gift to the leaders and the others would be perfect. Fiddling with one of the pine boughs fitted to the side of the wagon, agonizing over the petty detail out of well-hidden nervousness, he could not help but wonder what would happen by next year’s winter solstice. Much had changed in his young life recently.
Warm brown eyes watched the small girl clamber up onto the decorated mare’s large back, and he pulled his hat off to run his hand through his short messy hair. He wasn’t really decked out for the event himself, though he’d bathed and combed his thick dusty-colored fur. Dixie, of course, was sitting pretty in her dark cloak just like she would sit pretty in anything or nothing, and he felt sorely plain and out of place walking beside the wagon. Often he had wondered if he would ever deserve the woman of his dreams—though that wasn’t quite an issue for him anymore.
Bells jingled as the horse pulled the wagon through the snow toward where the rest of the Cavalierites were gathered. The Labrador mix grinned lightly as they drew closer to their destination, and the grin only broadened devotedly as Dixie glanced over her shoulder and spoke to him. He walked to the horse’s side and reached for one of her small white hands, hands that had the strength to work horses and the skill to weave baskets and the softness that made him want to hold them all day and night. He kissed her hand then smiled back at her.
Merry Christmas, Dix. I love you too. And he continued to walk by her side when they finally reached the court house—by her side as he knew he should for the rest of his life.
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