Mistletoe Mine by Emily March Page B

tangible. Sarah felt frozen in place. “But, honey—”
    “Please, Mom?”
    Her daughter had gone white as the sails on the cruiser next to the catamaran, and seeing it, Sarah’s mama-bear instincts roared to life. “Sure, honey. We’ll go.”
    “I’m sorry. I just can’t.” Lori had tears in those big green eyes of hers. “I’m not ready for this.”
    “You know what? Neither am I.” Sarah gave Cam Murphy one last look—he hadn’t moved one of those outdoorsman muscles—then tucked her arm through Lori’s and turned her back on the man she’d once loved.
    Once off the gangway, mother and daughter walked briskly. When they turned a corner, no longer in sight of the deck of the Bliss , Lori urged Sarah into a run.
    It took some time, effort, and creativity, but the two Reese women ran all the way home. Back home to Colorado. Back to the caring, comforting shelter of Eternity Springs.