start to farm, to ranch this spring, every other farmer, every other rancher around here will be willing to lend me a hand if I need it, to share his or her secretsâwell, most of them anyway. Butch Butler will never tell anybody what heâs feeding that prize pig of his. But you get the picture. Plus thereâs thisââ
He motioned toward the window.
âEvery city and town decorates for Christmas,â Shannon pointed out.
âIt isnât the decorations, itâs everything that goes with itâthe spirit of things, the way everyone gets into this holiday and all the rest. The way a wedding or a new baby is happy, important news no matter whose family it is. The way people around here just care . I like that.â
âFamily, team sports, this townâI think thereâs a theme with you,â Shannon said.
Dag laughed. âI hadnât thought about it like that, but youâre rightâI am not a loner. I like being a part of a close-knit group thatâs working and playing together.â
Once theyâd finished eating, their waitress appeared tableside to ask if theyâd like anything else. When they said no, she set down the bill and two complimentary cookies that looked like small frosted knots.
âThe ownerâs aunt makes these cookies at Christmasâtheyâre Italian anise knots. I love them, they taste like licorice,â Dag explained as he paid the bill.
They ate the cookies as they moved on to the town square where the gazebo was completely lit by tiny white lights. All the fir trees were decorated and lit up, too. More Victorian-style streetlights lined the outer perimeter of the square and had strings of the bough-and-ribbon-wrapped lights draped between them to illuminate the entire area.
Before dinner they had stopped at Dagâs truck to leave their dayâs purchases and to get his ice skates. Now Shannon rented a pair for herself from a stand by the rink.
âIt doesnât matterâbecause I can teach youâbut do you ice skate?â Dag asked as they sat on the benches that lined the ice just inside the decorated railing.
âI used to,â Shannon said. âI havenât since I was a teenager, and even then I preferred wheels to blades.â
âYouâll have to come back in the summer, thenâwhen the ice melts, thereâs roller skating and skateboarding here.â
Shannon was perplexed by why that should have any appeal at all, but it did. She didnât respond, though, and once their skates were in place, Dag got up onto his first. Then he spun around to face her and hold out his hands to help her get to her feet.
âYouâre just assuming Iâm going to be a klutz?â she joked.
His only answer was an engaging grin while his hands remained outstretched to her, waiting to be taken.
They both had on gloves so she thought it was safe enough to accept his help. But even through two layers of knitted wool just the meeting of their hands sent a warmth all through her.
But it only lasted a moment because she had to concentrate on maintaining her precarious balance.
âItâs been a very long time since I was on skates,â she said, stating the obvious.
âYeah, youâre a little wobbly, but youâll get the feel for it again,â Dag said as he steadied her and began to skate backward to tow her out onto the ice at a snailâs pace.
He was right, it didnât take Shannon long to regain the knack of ice skating. But once that happened, even when Dag let go of her and turned to skate at her side, she was no match for him. He glided so effortlessly across the ice that there were times as they circled the rink with the rest of the skaters that Shannon glanced down to make sure he wasnât just floating.
But she didnât mind that he was better than she was. There was Christmas music playing over a speaker system, there were lots of people laughing
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