“And I adore them. It’s just…” She held out her arms. “I look like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s life.”
Daniel chuckled, and Holly shook her head as she joined in. That’s what she loved about him—his ability to lighten a situation. “Come on. Let’s fix that.”
Instead of heading toward the truck parked at the curb, Daniel gently steered her in a different direction, his hand returning to the small of her back.
“Where are we going?” Holly asked, glancing up at him. “I thought we were heading to the bakery?”
“Not yet.” His voice carried a quiet certainty that somehow made her feel safer. “There’s something we need to do first.”
They walked two blocks down Main Street, past storefronts decorated with garlands and lights. Bear Creek looked like a Christmas card come to life—lampposts wrapped in evergreen boughs, wreaths on every door, fresh snow glittering on rooftops. The people of Bear Creek certainly seemed to go all in for Christmas.
Daniel stopped in front of a small boutique with a bay window. A plush velvet reindeer stood among artfully arranged sweaters and scarves, fairy lights twinkling overhead. The hand-painted sign read “Pine & Plaid” in elegant gold script.
“What are we doing here?” Holly asked, though something in her already knew.
“You need clothes that fit,” Daniel said simply.
Embarrassment flooded through her. “Daniel, I can’t…I don’t have my wallet or credit cards.”
“I know.” He turned to face her, but there was no pity in his expression. “I trust you to pay me back when you can. Right now, you deserve to be warm.”
“I am warm,” she insisted.
“In clothes that fit you,” he added.
Her eyes burned suddenly with tears she refused to shed. “Thank you,” she whispered.
The bell above the door jingled as they stepped inside. The shop smelled of pine and cinnamon, warm and inviting. A woman with silver-streaked hair looked up from behind the counter and smiled.
“Daniel Brooks! What brings you in today? Shouldn’t you be elbow-deep in cookie dough by now?”
“Morning, Elaine. We’re looking for some clothes for Holly.” His hand rested lightly on Holly’s shoulder. “She’s staying with us for a while, and the storm caught her unprepared.”
Elaine’s eyes were kind as they assessed Holly, taking in the borrowed clothes without judgment. “Well, let’s get you fixed up, dear. What sort of things do you need?”
“Just the basics,” Holly said quickly. “Jeans, maybe a sweater.”
“And a proper coat,” Daniel added. “Boots too.”
“I don’t need…”
“You do. You need to dress for the weather,” he said firmly, and she decided not to argue.
The practicality of his reasoning eased her discomfort slightly. This wasn’t charity; it was necessity. Still, as Elaine led her toward a rack of jeans, Holly felt a strange mixture of gratitude laced with vulnerability. She wasn’t used to a stranger helping her out like this. But then, did she really see Daniel as a stranger anymore?
No. In some ways, she felt she knew him better than any other person in her life.
“What’s your usual size, dear?” Elaine asked.
Such a simple question, yet it returned Holly to solid ground. This was familiar—shopping, sizes, fabrics. Normal life things that had nothing to do with runaway brides or snowstorms or the confusing warmth she felt whenever Daniel looked at her.
After she answered, Elaine selected several pairs, then guided her toward sweaters in rich winter hues. “Try these. The dressing room’s just through there.”
Holly carried the small stack into the dressing room, closing the door with a soft click. For a moment, she simply stood there, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair fell in waves around her face, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold outside. Daniel’s sweater hung off one shoulder, making her look smaller than she was.
She changed into the first pair of jeans, sighing with relief as they buttoned comfortably around her waist. No more holding up too-large sweatpants with one hand. She pulled on a cream-colored sweater next, the soft wool warming her skin.
There. The woman in the mirror looked more like herself—or maybe a new version of herself. Someone who belonged in this snowy small town with its Christmas decorations and friendly shopkeepers.
