She held onto that sense of satisfaction as she fetched her notepad and laptop from the bedroom, then settled into the armchair facing the fire, the heat radiating against her legs as she pulled a blanket over her lap. The article’s outline flowed easily now, her pen scratching across the paper: the town square’s massive tree with its handwritten wishes, the sanctuary’s gentle reindeer, the unexpected joy of sledding with strangers who felt like friends.
She typed up the notes, losing herself in the rhythm of recalling the day, with the crisp bite of snow in the air, the children’s laughter echoing off the hills, and the breathtaking vista from the sleigh. Her phone lay beside her, and she picked it up to reference the photos, swiping through images of the decorated square, the animals, the endless white landscape.
Then therehewas, captured in a candid shot she’d snapped during the sleigh ride. She sighed as she stared at the photo of Christopher against the backdrop of mountains, a charismatic smile on his lips. There was nothing staged about the photo, justherrugged mountain man in his natural surroundings.
Her stomach twisted, a giddy flip that she couldn’t ignore. Fine, she had a crush on him. A silly holiday crush, born from too much time in this winter wonderland. But oh, what she wouldn’t give for it to spark into something real, something that lasted beyond her departure date.
She set the phone down and stared out the window, where fresh snow drifted down in lazy spirals, blanketing the worldin quiet white. Could she actually be happy here, trading her suitcase for roots in a place like this? She sighed, the sound heavy in the empty room. Or would the charm wear thin, leaving her pacing these cabin walls like her mother had in their old hometown, resentment building until it poisoned everything, including any chance of happiness with a man like Christopher?
She didn’t want that invisible weight pressing down, the kind that had seeped from her mother’s every weary glance, every clipped word about dreams deferred. Better to keep moving, to avoid the trap altogether.
She swiped through the remaining photos, pausing on one of Teddy and Maisie from the sledding hill, their faces alight with pure, unfiltered joy. Her heart squeezed, a sharp ache spreading through her chest. Not for Christopher this time, but for that, a family of her own, children to bundle up and chase through the snow, a real home that echoed with more than her solitary footsteps. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and blinked hard, then looked back at her laptop screen, the words blurring through a haze of unshed tears.
The phone’s ring shattered the silence, jolting her upright. Her editor’s face flashed on the screen…Doreen, with her perpetual no-nonsense grin. Sorcha wiped at her eyes quickly, sniffed back the emotion, and tapped to answer. “Hi there,” Doreen said, her voice crackling with energy. “Just thought I’d check in.”
“Hi, Doreen.” Sorcha matched the bright, breezy tone as best she could, forcing a smile into her words even if her chest still felt tight. “Perfect timing.”
“How’s the article coming along?” Doreen asked, straight to business as always.
“It’s good,” Sorcha replied, glancing at her outline. “I was just working on it when you called.”
“And how are you finding small-town life?” Doreen’s laugh carried through the line, light and curious. “Not too claustrophobic for a city girl like you?”
Sorcha hesitated, her gaze drifting back to the window and the falling snow. “It’s…surprisingly charming. More than I expected.” She shifted in the chair, the fire’s warmth seeping deeper, chasing away some of the chill in her bones.
“Really,” Doreen drawled, with more than a hint of amusement, understandable since she was well aware of Sorcha’s history with small towns. “I never thought I would hear you say that about anywhere…small.”
Sorcha felt a sudden heat rise in her chest that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the hearth. She’d spent most of her adult life running from small towns, and here was Doreen with that knowing tone, as if she’d caught Sorcha contradicting herself.
“Yes, there is something so…cozy about a small town at this time of year,” Sorcha said carefully, tempering her unexpected defensiveness. “As for Bear Creek itself, you should see the mountains and the forests…”
And Christopher, her mind added automatically. The thought of him sent a flutter through her stomach that she couldn’t ignore.
“Mountains and forests, huh?” Doreen asked, her voice lilting with suspicion.
Had Doreen somehow developed mind-reading abilities? Sorcha shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yes, and the activities,” she replied, keeping her tone even. “Today I went on a sleigh ride at the local animal sanctuary.”
“A sleigh ride,” Doreen repeated, and Sorcha could practically hear her leaning forward at her desk. “And was the driver of the sleigh ruggedly handsome?”
Sorcha chuckled nervously, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “I don’t know, I’m not here for ruggedly handsome.”
Doreen’s laugh burst through the phone. “You know I love you and your work ethic, but sometimes you have to stop and admire the scenery…and I don’t just mean the mountains and forests.”
Sorcha closed her eyes, Christopher’s smiling face appearing immediately in her mind. Her stomach did a flip. “I know.”
“But talking of work ethics,” Doreen said, her tone shifting to something more businesslike.
“Yes?” Sorcha asked, nervousness threading through her voice.
“There’s an opportunity that’s come up, and I have put your name forward,” Doreen said.
Sorcha sat up straighter. “What kind of opportunity?”
“It seems that the rumors were true,” Doreen continued. “Dominic is looking to settle down. He’s met someone…”
“He has?” Sorcha asked, a wave of envy sweeping over her. Not because Dominic had her dream job of traveling all over the world to exclusive resorts. But because he had found someone. His dreams had changed.
“Sorcha?” Doreen’s voice cut through her thoughts. “This is what you’ve always wanted.”
