“Okay.” He remained at the foot of the bed, in companionable silence, while she played with ideas in her head. She’d try them out on the guitar, weaving in the idea of Christmas, of loneliness and loss. And every line belonged to Conner.

At last, she began to feel satisfied with what she’d created. She could polish it in the morning, then write it down and make a few notes to e-mail to the band in Nashville. The Cowboy Christmas Ball was three days from tomorrow. If everyone felt the song was ready, she would sing it there.

After that, she would give Lacy a break for a while—maybe for good.

Standing to put her guitar aside, she saw that Daniel had fallen asleep. He was sprawled across the foot of her bed, snoring lightly.

With a smile, Megan folded the covers over him, then tiptoed into the living room. Wrapped in the comforter, she stretched out on the sofa. As she closed her eyes, the melancholy echo of her song played in her head, blending with the moan of the wind outside and the silence of falling snow.

* * *

Conner woke at dawn. Next to the bed, Bucket was nosing his hand, and tugging at the covers, pestering him to get up and start the day. Muttering, he sat up and blinked himself to full alertness. The house was eerily quiet, maybe because Travis was gone. Or maybe the silence was a sign that the storm had passed.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood. The floor was icy cold. Finding his worn sheepskin slippers under the bed, he thrust his feet into them, grabbed his robe off the back of the door, and followed the dog into the living room.

Bucket scratched at the door, needing to get out. Conner hobbled across the room, feeling the pain in his hip, which was always worse when he first got out of bed. Maybe there’d be enough snow for more sleigh rides. He could only hope.

Reaching for the bolt, he slid it back, then turned the knob and opened the door.

The cold air hit him like a shock. But it was what he saw that stopped his breath. Snow—at least eighteen inches deep—covered everything in sight.

The overhanging roof had kept most of it off the porch, but the front steps were buried, as well as the road, the driveway, the vehicles, and the cut trees in the front yard. Racing past him to the steps, Bucket plunged into deep snow over his head. Recovering from his surprise, the dog began romping and diving in the white stuff.