The comments were genuinely positive. Supportive. Moved.
@mountainmamalife:This program is incredible. Just signed up to volunteer!
@jessicawrites:Can't stop crying reading these wish lists. Donated $200.
@sarahlovesbaking:You're doing something really special here, Candi.
I stared at those comments, and the validation I used to crave felt hollow. The numbers climbing felt less important than watching people slip folded-up pieces of paper into that dropbox, their expressions full of secret hope.
Then I saw it.
A comment from @DrewMortimerLife:Interesting rebrand, Candi. Very on-trend. We should talk about collaborating. Call me?
My stomach dropped.
Before I could process it, my phone buzzed. Drew calling.
I stared at his name on the screen.
Three weeks ago, I would have answered immediately. Desperate for his attention, his approval, his validation.
Now I thought about Bart. About the way he'd kissed me under the mistletoe—just for show, except it hadn't felt like just for show. About the quiet satisfaction of working beside him in the barn. About the way he'd said my name like it mattered.
I sent Drew's call to voicemail.
Stared at the decorations surrounding me—fake trees, stockings embroidered with names of people I didn’t know, that creepy cardboard elf in the corner who seemed to leer at me.
What was I doing? Developing feelings for a man seventeen years older who clearly had walls a mile high? A man who'd kissed me and then maintained careful distance the rest of the day, both of us tiptoeing around each other?
This was supposed to be about saving my career. Getting my numbers back up. Rebuilding.
Instead, I was thinking about steel-blue eyes and rare smiles and the way Bart's voice softened when he talked about giving families the holiday he never had.
My phone buzzed. Voicemail notification from Drew.
I hovered over the play button for three seconds.
Then deleted it without listening.
Whatever Drew wanted—I didn't care.
Tomorrow I'd go back to the barn. Back to working beside the man I was learning was more than just a grumpy mountain man.
For now, I had to admit the truth:
I was falling for Bart.
And I had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
