Chloe straightens slowly, brushing snow from her coat.
There’s a pause, and then a flash of heat in her eyes.
“Oh, you’re done,” she says.
She scoops up an alarming amount of snow, packs it, and throws it with shocking accuracy.
The snowball hits me square in the chest, and it doesn’t occur to me to run. It probably should, because Phoebe pushes to her feet, packing a new ball as she does.
In a blink, the farm turns into a battlefield.
I scoop and pack snow as quickly as I can, since Chloe and Phoebe keep pelting me. I toss another snowball toward Chloe, purposely missing, so Phoebe will likely try to intercept it.
She does, diving heroically like she’s jumping in front of a bullet instead of snow, and collapses in a pile.
“Victory!” she declares, dissolving into a fit of giggles.
Chloe laughs, a sound full and unguarded, that unfurls something tense in my chest. It carries farther than it should, ringing through the trees. Only a few days ago, they echoed withscreams like a warning, and in this moment, joy cracks through the memory.
Now the trees carry sound like a celebration.
The wind stills.
For a second, everything pauses.
Chloe catches my eye across the field, breathless, hair escaping her hat, and grins like she’s forgotten she’s supposed to be careful with me.
She throws again.
And when the snow hits me this time, a realization comes with it.
My eyes search the farm again, and it’s not my imagination. The trees stand a little taller, and the colors are brighter. There’s life here again, and there’s no way it’s a coincidence.
I don’t think the magic is returning because I opened the gates. It’s back because I let Chloe and Phoebe in. If I want to take it one step further, I don’t think it’s waiting for Christmas. Maybe it was waiting forher.
Just like I have been, and didn’t even realize it.
The realization steals the breath from my lungs before I can figure out what to do with it.
It doesn’t matter anyway, since Phoebe breaks the moment with a battle cry and an armful of snowballs.
The world unpauses and falls back into chaos. Phoebe weaves in and out of the evergreens, sometimes helping one of us, but mostly sabotaging.
Chloe ducks behind a tree, laughing so hard she can barely throw straight.
I lunge forward and grab the edge of her sleeve as she rounds the bushy edges, trying to escape my playful pursuit. With a low chuckle, I pull her closer, giving into the urge that’s plagued me since she stepped on the porch.
“I forgot how much fun it is to do this,” she says, glancing up. Her cheeks are rosy in the cold, and snow clings to her lashes.
This might be the only time I’ve got to apologize for being a grumpy fiancé.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, my voice rough.
“For what?” She tips her head. “All’s fair in a snow war.”
“There are parts of me that are still…raw. You felt it, and you didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end.”
She draws a breath, then lets it out as our heart rates return to normal after all the running.
