And there, hunched over a cardboard box at the edge of the display, cursing up a storm as he tried to untangle what looked like another strand of lights, was Kent. More Christmas goblin than elf, the ridiculous man brought a smile to my face.
Even from a distance, I could see the frustration in his posture and hear the creative swearing. He was way less concerned with polite language than I had been all season. I was hearing a lot of “sugar honey iced teas” in there, along with a few “if you see Kays.”
I made my way toward him through the snow. He was so focused on his task and his storm of profanity that he didn’t notice me approaching until I was practically on top of him.
“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” I asked.
He startled so violently that he tripped over his own feet and fell backward into the snow. Kent let loose a string of curses that I didn’t have fun euphemisms for.
“Shit, Sylvie,” he said, one hand pressed to his chest. “You scared the tinsel out of me.”
“Sorry,” I said, though I was still smiling. “I saw the lights from inside and had to come see for myself. What have you been up to, Mr. Bancroft?” I gestured to the wonderland he’d created around us. “This is beautiful, Kent. Just wait until the kids see it in the morning.”
He got to his feet and looked around at his handiwork. I could see exhaustion and satisfaction in his gaze. His face was red from the cold, his hands were clearly frozen, and there were pine needles stuck all over him. He looked like he’d been wrestling with Christmas trees for hours.
Which, apparently, he had.
“You did all this tonight, you crazy man?” I asked.
“Found a bunch of old lights in the cabin,” he said, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air. “Thought maybe… I don’t know. Thought maybe you’d like it.”
Silence settled around us, that heavy, muted quiet that only came when you were surrounded by fresh snow. The world felt quiet, like it was holding its breath waiting for something important to happen.
Standing there in the glow of thousands of vintage Christmas lights, looking at this man who’d busted his buns in the snow to make my family farm a more magical place, I felt the sun come out in my heart, thawing some of the ice that had settled in there as of late.
“I forgive you,” I whispered, the words coming out before I’d consciously decided to say them.
Kent went very still, his eyes searching my face like he wasn’t sure he heard correctly.
“And I don’t blame you,” I continued, the words flowing now like they’d been waiting inside me all along. “For what you did before. You saw a failing business. Your family saw an opportunity. It’s time my family and I accept what’s coming.”
The admission hurt, but it also felt like setting down a weight I’d been carrying for too long. We couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that we weren’t struggling, that we didn’t need help.
“No,” Kent said, stepping closer and taking my gloved hand in his frozen one. “Accept my investment offer. Don’t accept failure. I don’t want this place to fail.”
I looked down at our joined hands, then back up into his eyes. His expression was full of honesty and hopeful and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen it.
“We can do this together,” he said. “I want to do this with you.”
“Together?” I searched his eyes, looking for the catch. I wanted to know what the angle was. There had to be a corporate strategy hidden beneath the romantic gesture. “What does that mean? Here? In Northwood? For how long? How long before you get bored and leave?”
The questions tumbled out before I could stop them. I had to be smarter this time. As much as I wanted to believe everything was all sunshine and sugar plum fairies, I refused to take anything at face value. He must have been able to hear my thoughts, because his expression softened with understanding.
“With my money and your heart, we can restore this place to what it once was. Your family can stay and keep doing what they love. We can stay. You don’t have to leave.”
“We?” The word came out as barely a whisper.
He nodded, and the heat in his eyes made my breath catch. “I don’t want to go back to New York and pretend none of this happened. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been if I’d been brave enough to choose happiness over my father’s approval.”
He squeezed my hand, and heat blossomed in me. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good.” Kent smiled. “I want to wake up every morning and see these mountains. I want to help families create memories that will last forever. I want to argue with you about Christmas decorations and watch you turn every guest into a believer ofmagic. I want you to make me nauseated with all of your crazy Christmas decorations.”
I laughed. “Challenge accepted.”
“We can build a life here. If you’ll have me.”
The words hung in the air between us. My heart felt like it was going to bounce right out of my chest.
