Mac felt kind of bad for having blown up at Jack, and that Pops had been in the blast radius. But after the local doctor had declared that his pain had almost definitely been brought on by a combination of still-healing rib fractures and the deceptively athletic activity of a long trail ride in the snow (which represented one of only a handful of times Mac had ever been on horseback at all), neither Jack nor Pops would let him apologize for his fit of temper.

He tried.

But it resulted in him being called a silly hamburger kid a couple of times and a good-natured shoving match on the steps to the house.

When they'd gone upstairs to the back bedroom for the night and turned out the light, he and Jack were quiet for a couple of minutes. Then Jack spoke from his side of the little room.

"I know you said you already accepted my apology, Mac. But after hearing Doc Williams … I … man, I'm even sorrier I flipped out on you."

"Jack, it's okay." Mac paused for a second, then said firmly, "I'm sorry I reciprocated."

"Mac, buddy, I was absolutely ready to call Patty and have your ass involuntarily medevaced to Austin, even if I had to knock you out to make it happen, and you seriously weren't even really hurt. And you'd been checking in with Elliot anyway … No wonder you got pissed at me, hoss."

Mac sighed. "I told you, Jack, I'm not mad anymore." Another quiet sigh. "You and Steve shouldn't have talked about me. But I know how you are. I would have said something, but … It just didn't seem like that big a deal. All the stitches and the broken ribs were a much more obvious problem. The bruising was so insignificant, Steve told me it could even be an artifact on the scan."

Jack mulled that over. "Why do you think he said something to me then?"

Mac rolled onto his side to face the sound of Jack's voice, even though the other bed was just a lumpy shape in the dark. "Probably because when he proposed treating it like it could be something serious because he said that Oversight prefers to manage things like that aggressively 'just in case' … by which he meant days in the infirmary, fluids, labs, all kinds of stuff that didn't have any point unless I was actually injured, I told him no. I'm all for caution when it's warranted, but I'll be damned if I put up with a bunch of unnecessary b.s. just because someone is worried about catching hell from the boss." He sighed again. "But I guess I get it. He's newish. And Oversight's Oversight. Besides, I'm sure he's gotten an earful about both of us from the rest of Medical."

"He probably has. But you're right, though. We shouldn't have talked about you. Or I shouldn't have. I should've just asked you if what he said was anything you were worried about."

Mac smiled slightly and shook his head, just like Jack would be able to see it. Hell, for all he knew, maybe he could. Jack's sniper's eyes were freaky sharp. "Yes, you should've!" he laughed softly. "But maybe I should have said something." He thought about their conversation in the parking lot of the doctor's office. "Honestly, Jack, I had an Overwatch before you. Dixon, his name was. But to him it was just a job. We barely spoke. And he only ever seemed to give half a damn about setting up a disposal. More than one time I nearly got tagged because he wasn't paying attention. And once…" He trailed off.

He'd shared a lot with Jack today, while he was still pissed off. And now that he wasn't, part of him wanted to tell him about the day Al died, about how that had been his scene, but his packbot had malfunctioned and he'd been ordered to fix it instead of going in without it. He wanted to tell Jack that if Dixon had been paying attention to the scene like he was supposed to, maybe Al would still be alive.

Mac had avoided getting in trouble for the fight he got into with Dixon after it happened because he'd had one hell of a concussion from being so close to the blast only about half suited up. Their medic wrote it off as related to the mood dysregulation and clouded thinking caused by his head injury. The CO went along with it, mostly because he'd seen how close the specialist was with Alfred Pena. But he'd put in a transfer order while Mac was still on sick call, after he'd annoyed the medical staff into kicking him out of the infirmary, pretending to doze in his bunk so he didn't have to talk to anyone. As soon as Mac had been medically cleared he'd been transferred, and then nearly gotten a fresh concussion for touching Jack's bolt carrier.

Mac hesitated. Maybe someday he would tell Jack about Al, about how Jack had wound up being his Overwatch, but he didn't think he could share any more about his past today. So, he said, a little hesitantly, "Anyway, it's just that … Sometimes how totally seriously you take watching out for me, that you don't just see it as a work thing … it just … sneaks up on me."

The raw vulnerability in Mac's voice in that moment made Jack feel even worse about going over the top earlier. The last thing he wanted was to push Mac away by taking things to a level the kid couldn't tolerate. But he made himself answer lightly, knowing it was probably what Mac needed and also knowing that he himself couldn't handle much more emotional rollercoastering. "I get that, kid. It's a helluva a thing to get a Dalton on Overwatch."

Mac was silent for a minute. "I'm still not used to having someone to watch my back like you do. Boze always tried. But my ability to find trouble always has gotten a little ahead of him. You seem to … time travel to plan ahead for the worst case scenario." He smiled slightly. "Maybe that's why it bugs me so much. Like if you've found a TARDIS or a ship with an improbability drive like the Heart of Gold, I'm pissed that you're not sharing."

Jack laughed. "I don't know what anyathat means. But you best count on ole Jack not just watchin' your six, but the whole damn Angus MacGyver clock." He paused. "But I'll try to do a better job of remembering you're part of that and not go tryin' to make decisions for ya."

Mac gave a jaw cracking yawn that could be heard across the room. "We better go back to LA soon. Your Texas is starting to take over every time you talk."

That was Mac saying he was done with the conversation. He was all serioused out.

"We stay much longer, you'll start soundin' like Texas."

"I caught myself saying 'y'all' to Dr. Williams. So…" He yawned again.

Jack half smiled at the completely genuine sound. "We better get some sleep. Nana's gonna be in full Christmas mode tomorrow. We best be prepared. And I'm beat right now."

"Yeah, I imagine going from Zero to Full Overwatch does exhaust a guy."

"Haha, Carl's Junior. How about being a stubborn little shit? What's that do?"

"Definitely means the guy in question will be up before his Overwatch to score the first cup of coffee and the best of the biscuits."

They went back and forth like that for a few minutes, then when Jack said something about talking Nana out of letting Mac have any of the fully homemade fruitcake she'd been fussing with since Thanksgiving, Mac didn't answer. He'd finally just dozed off.

Jack knew this was probably not the last time Mac would brush off something that worried Jack, and he was sure it wasn't the last time he'd piss the kid off looking out for him. He lay there thinking about some of the things Mac had shared with him this evening. He'd done it because he was angry, because he thought Jack didn't believe he could take care of himself. But by the time he dozed off himself, he was, maybe for the first time in their relationship, pretty sure they'd always come out the other side of it as friends.

0-0-0

Mac's family had always celebrated Christmas, but more in a sort of secular American holiday kind of way. Mac's father hadn't exactly gotten in on the traditions that made it really fun for a kid. But his mom had always gotten in the spirit. She decorated and always labeled his gifts from the jolly old elf, even though he watched her carry them downstairs while he pretended to be asleep. She tried to learn to cook, but her Christmas cookies resulted in them nearly calling the fire department. So when that holiday plan fell apart, she explained the physics of why Santa was possible. As an adult, Mac now had a suspicion that she'd done it to sort of playfully needle his father, who said he didn't need Einstein-Rosen bridges explained to him by his preschooler, but Mac always enjoyed the idea that something so magical could be explained by science. Gramps had always tried to lend the holidays something extra, like dressing up and pretending to be Santa, or eating the milk and cookies they left out together on those Christmases his father had been out of town. Even decorating his place in LA like he expected it to become a postcard for California Christmases when Mac visited him for the holidays.

Then there were the Bozers. Good Lord Boze's mom loved Christmas. She decorated the house like electric bills didn't exist, cooked for the family and the neighbors like there was no tomorrow, and wrapped so many gifts for Mac and Boze that Christmas mornings looked like a Toys R Us had blown up in their living room.

Mac had always loved Christmas. But when he thought about it, there was always something a little off about the ones he'd experienced. Before his mom died, there was that funny tension between his parents with his dad stiffly bowing to the tradition but not really participating, and his mom working overtime to just let Mac be a kid. Gramps always seemed to be trying too hard to make the fact that Mac's dad took off for work alright by going above and beyond. And the Bozers, well, Mac knew where all that over-the-top, everything's-fine cheer came from. The same place Boze's theatrics did. It was a way to fill a very uncomfortable and usually unacknowledged void in their family. Mac had good memories of all of those holidays, but when he thought about it, there was often something about it that felt sort of … fake.

Nothing could have prepared him for Christmas at the ranch.

It was like being in some kind of old movie in some ways.

The house was decorated from the mailbox all the way to the back bedroom.

Even the barn had lights and garlands, not to mention a fully decorated tree.

The tree in the house was the biggest Mac had ever seen inside any place other than the mall, and the whole house smelled of evergreens. Of course, you had to sniff that out from the smells of cookie and candy making that had started weeks before and kept up right until the lot of them left for the Christmas Eve church service, all dressed in their Sunday best.

It had been a week of food, caroling, neighbors visiting and baskets of candies and baked goods being exchanged, and a sort of ordered chaos that Mac found both totally overwhelming and pleasantly warming at the same time. He did eschew any further snowy trail rides that week, but that didn't slow down Jack and his grandfather who spent more time out of the house than in it, which left Mac to be overfed by Nana while trying to explain the scientific underpinnings of the argument he and Jack had been having about Santa Clause since the year they'd met.

It was all sort of surreal, but it was also one of the most authentic experiences he'd ever had.

Prior to Christmas morning itself, the icing on the cake of the wonderful time he'd been having was his phone call to Nikki. As they'd shared their holiday plans, she suggested that since they'd been separated for weeks, the next time they got some time off, they should plan a vacation together. When he said he thought Rome might be fun, she enthusiastically agreed. Then she'd said vacations were nice trial runs for living together and Mac felt his face split into the world's dopiest grin and he couldn't even feel self-conscious about it.

He'd been unable to stop smiling after that phone call, to the point where Jack was teasing him mercilessly about it, especially every time he caught him doing Italian lessons on his phone.

When he'd finally fallen asleep on Christmas Eve, a night often plagued by emotionally draining dreams of his childhood, all he'd dreamed about was walking the busy streets of Rome with a very pleasant companion by day, followed by how they might spend some of their evenings.

Someone shook him awake, and when he opened his eyes, his partner was smirking down at him. "I'm guessing visions of sugarplums ain't what put that dopey grin on your face even in your sleep."

He picked up his pillow and smacked Jack with it. "We've talked about how creepy it is when you watch people sleep, Dalton." He looked out the window. It was still nearly dark out. He started to get up. "Gimme a sec. I'll be right behind you for barn chores. Nana's kept me in the kitchen boxing up her neighbor presents all week. I feel like I've abandoned you and Pops. I'm actually kind of looking forward to cleaning stalls."

"Nah, ya silly hamburger kid, chores are all done. Time for coffee and presents."

Mac rubbed the last of the sleep out of his eyes. He'd watched a bunch of Rick and Morty and stayed up until after midnight LA time to wish Nikki a merry Christmas. But he didn't feel like that was a good excuse not to help out. "You should've woken me up. I'd have helped."

Jack grinned and shook his head as Mac gathered his things to head down the hall to the bathroom. "Nana said we're not allowed to let you do chores. She doesn't want you botherin' your ribs."

"They're fine," he said dismissively.

"Well, maybe they are, but she also said we're not allowed to have another fight."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "So now you've got Nana turning into a hovering pain in my ass?"

"No, sir. She said the way you looked at me in the living room that night, she thought I might just drop dead. So, I've got Nana keepin me from gettin' my ass kicked apparently. You might be her favorite, but she likes me, too."

Mac gave him a playful shove on his way out the door. "Good thing she's looking out. I could definitely take you, old man."

Jack chuckled and headed back down the stairs. They'd had other reasons to keep the kid out of the barn, but damned if giving Mac a hard time when it was just in fun wasn't about the most relaxing thing Jack could do that didn't involve precision firearms.

He hoped Mac would be pleased with his Christmas here. He knew the kid was looking forward to getting back to LA even though he loved it here, but Jack was really hoping that knowing he had a real connection outside of California would ground his young friend to something outside of work, and would remind him that Jack and Boze weren't all he had in the world.

0-0-0

Even though Christmas morning turned out to be just Mac, Jack, and Jack's grandparents, it still felt like sort of a big party to Mac.

All the Christmas lights were on, including the painstakingly handmade Santa's village on display in the front window. Christmas music played over the speakers that, thanks to Mac, were properly mounted on the walls throughout the downstairs. Everyone but Mac was having what Nana called a holiday coffee, which looked to Mac like Irish coffee, but with bourbon. Mac had taken one sip, laughed and said he'd prefer to remember this holiday, and he put his "holiday" cup in front of Jack and went to retrieve a normal, wakefulness-inducing coffee from the kitchen.

A breakfast of homemade cinnamon rolls and thick cut bacon, not to mention biscuits to go with the sawmill gravy on the back burner, were all in the oven, making the whole house smell heavenly. But there were also about twenty varieties of cookies on platters on the coffee table that everyone was happily munching on while they talked and laughed and settled in for opening gifts.

Mac sat in one corner of the sofa with one of the cats curled in his lap. All of the animals had learned early in their encounters with Mac that if they hung around he would likely share whatever he was eating and had a tendency to carry around treats for them in his pockets, so he couldn't get very far in the house or outside, without one or more of the animals following him.

Mac couldn't help but grin at the relaxed but also somehow boisterous demeanor that permeated the Dalton clan this morning. He mostly just listened to them. Part of him felt a twinge of pain, maybe even loss, that he didn't have this easy, good natured, shared history anywhere. But most of him just really appreciated that they didn't mind sharing it with him today. He'd meant it when he'd told Jack that the ranch meant family to him. He didn't necessarily feel part of it, deep down where that feeling might heal some of the emptiness he carried around with him. But just experiencing it meant something.

Once they'd all gotten around to second cups of coffee, which in everyone but Mac's case meant they were feeling quite festive at that point, and Nana had checked on the progress of breakfast, she announced that the time had come to open presents. "Why don't you play Santa Claus, Jack?"

Jack got up from his corner of the sofa with a little head shake. "Just like old times, huh? Ole Jack gets to do all the work and open presents last."

Mac stood, too. "I'll help. That was always my job as a kid."

"Oh, no you don't, Angus," Nana said lightly. "You've got a mighty pile of presents headed your way and you'll never get back to your seat if you do the stacking."

Mac smiled, "Sorry, Jack. I tried."

Jack brought over the first armload of presents from under the tree. "Well, you can't go against Nana. But you could wait till I'm done bringing things over to start opening. That'd be a nice show of solidarity."

Mac helped distribute the packages amongst their recipients as Jack lugged them over. "That I can do."

He waited while Jack finished the job of bringing packages over. He enjoyed watching Nana and Pops open things from them and from each other. Jack had gotten his grandfather about a hundred books, and for his grandmother, a wide variety of knitting and crafting things to keep her hands as busy as she liked. And they'd gotten each other trivia books so they could go back and forth in them while they watched TV at night. Mac found all of it kind of adorable.

They made a big deal out of their gifts from Mac. Mac had made Pops a new chess set. He'd started it over the summer and had originally planned just to ship it here. He was glad he got to see Pops' reaction in person. Mac had made the board out of different colors of wood he'd found while out hiking, and the playing pieces were carefully shaped rocks he found on the trail as well. Jay from the lab had helped him program and laser cut everything and then he'd finished it all by hand.

For Nana, he'd gotten Jack to part with the bunch of recipes she'd shared with him over the years and had them bound in a beautiful cookbook with extra blank pages she could add to. Then, over the last couple of weeks as she groused about other birds bothering her chickens, he'd built a small drone adorned with reflective pieces and noisemakers she could use to chase off other birds right from the comfort of the living room.

"Angus, that's the cleverest and most thoughtful thing I think I've ever received."

"I'm really glad you like it, Nana." He gave a little frown, thinking. "If you want, I could put a camera on it too. Then you could use it to take pictures of your ladies while you chase other birds away from them."

"See, Nana," Jack said as he finally sat down behind his own stack of gifts. "He's always thinkin', always improving on stuff, never done with a thing."

Mac threw him an amused dirty look. "That's what engineering is, Jack. It's a process, not an endgame. That's why it's fun."

"Well, it sure gets the job done, kid." Jack said affectionately. "Open some presents now, or we're not gonna get any of that bacon that smells so good."

"Oh, that's right. I better go pull things out of the oven," Nana said as she got to her feet to go to the kitchen. "Don't you open that smallest package until I get back, Angus."

He grinned. "I won't." He picked up a medium sized box and then looked at Jack. "You open something too, otherwise it feels like you guys are sitting here watching me."

"Alright, kid." He picked up a small package from Mac. "I bet I know what this is." He looked at his partner. "It's that knife I was looking at last week. You looked real sneaky at the cash register."

Mac shrugged. "Open it and find out."

Jack grinned, anticipating adding the very nice knife he'd looked at at the feed/supply store last week to his collection. He tore off the paper and pulled at the lid of the small box.

There was a soft popping sound and suddenly there was a shower of red and green glitter raining down over Jack.

Even though he was caught in the fall of glitter because of his position on the couch, which also drove off Mac's feline companion, Mac dissolved into laughter, right along with Jack's grandparents.

Nana laughed downright raucously as she came back in to see Jack sitting there with glitter still pattering softly down on him. "I've always had a sense of timing, and that was just perfect," she said, clapping as she sat down.

Jack glared at Mac. "Merry Christmas to you too, Angus."

Mac laughed some more. "I told you this would happen. It's your own fault."

A little grin tipped up the corner of Jack's mouth. "I guess I should be grateful there's not glue in it."

He smirked. "Nana talked me out of the glue."

Jack threw a look at his grandmother. "You bought the glitter, didn't you?"

She and Mac looked at each other for a moment, then both got laughing again. "Of course I did. Angus told me about your whole conversation and I said I thought it was funnier if I did buy the glitter." She giggled like a young girl and covered her mouth for a second. "And it is!"

Jack's grandfather chuckled, too. "Since I was part of the situation that led to that present, I'm just grateful there wasn't one in my stack."

Mac grinned. "I didn't want Nana to get caught in the crossfire." He took in the mess surrounding Jack and the mounting pile of glitter on Jack's stack of packages as he brushed glitter out of his short hair. He moved to get up. "I'll clean all that up."

Jack chuckled. "Classic Mac. You went through with the prank, but now ya feel bad so you're offering to clean it up. That ain't how it works, Carl's Junior. I earned a MacGyver prank by stompin' all over your boundaries, so I gotta clean it up."

Mac read that as another apology, which sort of made him feel even worse than the huge mess his little glitter bomb had made, but also everyone, including Jack, seemed to think it was funny and totally appropriate. "I mean—"

Pops interrupted him. "You think this is the first time there's been a messy holiday prank in this house, Angus? Jack and all the rest of the kids were always pulling stuff like that on each other. That's just life with siblings, son."

Something about everything Pops said, and the way he said it, filled Mac with an inexplicable sense of warmth, of belonging that was a little overwhelming. "I guess it is," he agreed, his voice momentarily just a little husky. Then he quickly returned his attention to Jack. "There's a couple real presents from me in that pile."

Jack flashed a grin. "I appreciate that usin' the vacuum ain't all I'm gettin' for Christmas, brother."

This morning being called brother was also a little overwhelming, but Mac decided it wasn't in an unpleasant way, though he had to clear his throat before he spoke again. "Y'all better lay off that festive coffee, man. The Texas is getting so thick, I'm gonna need an interpreter by lunch."

Jack laughed. "You know you just said 'y'all' and you're not even unwrapping your presents while under the influence."

Mac gave an entirely friendly eye roll, and went about opening his first gift, which turned out to be a soft light brown Stetson. "Should I take this to mean I'm allowed back out in the barn, and maybe even on the trail?"

Jack reached over, picked up the hat and dropped it crookedly on Mac's head. "It's definitely code for 'get your skinny butt back out in the barn cuz me and Pops are tired of doin' all the work'."

Mac laughed and adjusted his hat. He looked around the room. "I just look like a fish out of water in this, don't I?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Angus," Nana admonished. "You make a very handsome cowboy. And that hat sits just right on you."

He smiled almost shyly, then took it off and set it on the table. "Well, thank you."

Jack was pleased with his new boots and barn jacket from his grandparents, and Mac found he received a similar set as he unwrapped some more. And Jack was extremely happy with the knife he'd more or less picked out for himself. But even more than that with the sort of beat up, ancient, second hand book Mac had found for him, detailing the exploits of all the most famous Texas Rangers and the criminals they chased. "Thanks, man. How'd you know I was into all this?"

Mac shrugged. "You told me about it … um … after the thing … you know … last year."

Jack thought back on their time kind of hiding out at his place right before Mac officially came on at DXS. He guessed he had chattered about a lot of things to try to take Mac out of his own head. "It's hard to find stuff like this. This is great," he said with genuine gratitude. "Now hurry up and finish opening yours."

Mac opened a new Swiss Army knife from Jack, with all sorts of bells and whistles on it.

"So you can leave that little red knife from your Gramps home if you're worried you might lose it at work," Jack explained. Mac was hard on tools of all kinds and he didn't want to think of the kid losing that touchstone that seemed so important to him.

Then he opened a brand new full set of headgear for a horse, down to a gorgeous bridle and reins. The big heavy box contained a saddle that was a golden brown leather that came close to matching his Stetson. "You guys," Mac said, sounding a bit awestruck. "I really appreciate all this, but it's so extravagant. I can't—"

"Son," Pops said firmly. "Every Dalton on the ranch has gear of their own. And I hope you've figured out by now that Jack's not the only one who sees you as family."

Mac swallowed hard. "I … I don't know what to say," he replied in almost a whisper.

"Ya just say thank you, ya silly hamburger kid," Jack teased to give Mac a reason to break the emotional moment if he needed to.

Mac shot him a quick, appreciative look. "Thank you. I really … It's amazing. And … I…" He cleared his throat. "I think of you all like family, too," he managed.

Nana gestured at the last small box on the coffee table. "Best open that last one, Angus. Breakfast is getting cold."

He definitely felt everyone watching him now.

The box was about the size of the palm of his hand. He opened it. Inside was a postage stamp with a horse and rider depicted on it. Under it was a note. "Use this stamp to send yourself outside. Santa couldn't fit everything under the tree."

He glanced around at the rest of them. "What does this—?"

Jack got to his feet. "It means go outside, hoss. Just like the note says."

Knowing there was a chill in the air, Mac slipped on the new barn jacket and went out onto the porch, with the three Daltons right on his heels. When he got to the edge of the steps, he froze.

Standing idly at the hitching post in front of the house was a stunning golden horse, whose coat was roughly the same color as Mac's hair, with a shiny cream colored mane and tail, and warm blue eyes that met his at the soft sound of his slight gasp.

"Is that…" Mac began, then stopped because he didn't have any words.

All the Daltons had a horse of their own, a stall that belonged to them and their horse. Suddenly all the gear made a lot more sense.

Pops stepped forward and put a hand on Mac's shoulder. "We've been talkin' about this for a while, since the last time you and Jack came out. And when I went to pick up my new mare, I met this little lady. Once we got acquainted, I thought she might be just right for you. So I dragged Jack out to meet her, and once I had his seal of approval, we made a plan to sneak her home for you."

Mac was still sort of frozen in place. "She's beautiful."

Jack moved next to him and bumped shoulders with him. "You should know, she's a little shy, a little skittish of new people, and smart as Hell, so she's prone to trouble. You can see why we picked her for you."

Mac grinned and shook his head. "I really don't know what to say … I mean, thank you, but I just …"

Nana muscled her way past the other men and wrapped him in a hug. She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Go meet her," she said softly, and put a small stash of sugar cubes into his hand.

Mac edged down the steps like there was a T-rex in the yard rather than a young horse who was eyeing him as warily and he was eyeing her. Suddenly, he glanced back over his shoulder. "What's her name?"

Jack was the one who answered. "Officially, her name is a mouthful. It's Scottish for silk ribbon." Jack did his best to pronounce it. "Riobanan Sìoda."

Mac smiled slightly. "Sheedah? That's pretty."

Pops called out, "But she'll tell you what she wants you to call her, and that's what'll go on the stall door."

When Mac reached the horse he stood in front of her so she could look him over. "Hey, Sìoda. I'm Mac."

She let out a soft little nicker and tossed her head. It looked like she was beckoning him closer, but he wasn't sure. He glanced back at everyone, who had edged off the porch to watch his first encounter with this horse.

"That means she likes you, bud," Jack offered.

He grinned and held out a couple of the sugar cubes. She carefully took them in her lips and gulped them down. Then she stepped closer. Mac reached out carefully and petted her neck while he offered a couple more cubes.

She finished the sugar then bumped him gently with her head. Suddenly absolutely overwhelmed by the day, by everything he'd received and been told, and by this beautiful creature standing in front of him, Mac found himself wrapping his arms around the horse's neck and burying his face in her mane.

She nickered softly again and wrapped her head around his back like she was hugging him back. When they stepped back from each other and their blue eyes met, Mac had to stop and wipe at his before he turned around to look at Jack and his grandparents.

He offered them all a slightly watery smile, and he found he didn't even feel self conscious about it at the moment. "Thank you. I really mean it … Thank you. She's wonderful."

Nana wiped her own eyes unapologetically. "We're so happy you two are taking to each other."

"What do you think you want to call her?" Pops asked.

Mac looked at the horse for a long minute. He pawed the ground and gave a little shake of her magnificent golden head. He smiled. "I do think Riobanan Sìoda is a beautiful name for a horse. But how about officially Riobanan 'Heart of Gold' Sìoda?"

"That's that spaceship in that crazy book you like," Jack observed.

"The one with the improbability drive." He felt the lump come back into his throat. "Because nothing is so improbable and wonderful as this … Thank you," he said again, and he had a feeling he was going to keep saying it today.

"What do you want on her door, Angus?" Pops asked.

Mac grinned. "Forty-two."

"You're going to call her Forty-two?" Pops eyebrows went up.

"It's my lucky number," Mac said, the grin not faltering. "And today I'm realizing that even when I forget it, I'm pretty lucky."

Nana sniffed again. "And we are so happy you feel that way here, Angus. We hope this means you'll feel welcome no matter when or why you find your way here."

Mac swallowed hard, but stiff sniffed a little himself. "Thank you. I … Yes, I … Thank you."

Jack took a couple steps and asked, "Mind if I make this lady's acquaintance?"

Mac stepped aside, "That's up to her."

Jack stepped forward and let her sniff him a bit, gave her a pat, then untied her lead from the hitching post. "Want to show this fine lady back to her quarter so she can finish her breakfast and you can maybe have your own? Then we can bring all your tack out and get everything settled in your spot in the barn."

Mac took her lead from Jack with a big grin at the idea of really having his own spot in the barn. "Yeah. That sounds great."

Nana and Pops headed back up the steps to go inside, but they watched the boys head to the barn with Forty-two.

Jack fell into step beside Mac and asked, "You okay, kid?"

They saw Mac nod. "More than okay." He pulled in a long breath and even from the porch there was the sound of someone on the verge of tears to it.

"I'm sorry if this was a lot, kid."

Mac shook his head. "It's a good lot. I … Like I said. Thank you." Then he turned his head toward Jack. "But I think maybe I want one of those holiday coffee's when we get back inside."

Jack laughed. "Ah, hell kid. Now you're really officially a Dalton."