Contractors and volunteers bustle around like elves, erecting rows of stalls for the Christmas festival where locals will sell handmade ornaments, sugar cookies, and piping hot cider. The North Pole cabin is nearly ready for Santa’s arrival, and the ice-skating rink already gleams beneath strings of lights.
In just a few days, this place will be a winter wonderland.
And I need everything to be perfect.
“Claire!” Parker’s voice cuts through as I snap photos with my phone to use in social media posts promoting the upcoming festival. My boss approaches, her cheeks pink from the cold, her smile bright. “This place looks amazing. Seriously. You’ve outdone yourself.”
A warmth blooms inside of me. “I learned from the best.”
I grew up coming to Holley Ridge every year with my mom and sister, watching in awe as Parker’s dad transformed the ranch into something straight out of a snow globe. After he passed, Parker made it even bigger to honor his memory.
Now I get to be a part of it, too.
It means a great deal that she’s put her trust in me to continue the tradition her parents started, and I want nothing more than to prove myself.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Claire. I’ve seen the ticket numbers. Not to mention, this place is booked solid from now until after the new year. I wasn’t sure that would happen with all the new rooms we’ve added during the renovation. But thanks to the marketing and influencer outreach you’ve done, this isshaping up to be the biggest year ever for Holley Ridge.” A hint of nostalgia twinkles in her eyes. “Dad would love to know his love for Christmas is now being shared with all these people. Thanks for that. For being part of this family.”
An unexpected wave of emotion washes over me. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
Before Parker can say anything else, I spot Joshua walking toward me, his stride purposeful, his face a little more serious than usual.
“Hey,” he says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his fleece-lined jacket. A few tufts of dark hair sprout out of his beanie, and some scruff dots his jawline.
Joshua is nothing like Declan, but the dark hair and scruff reminds me of him.
Then again, everything seems to remind me of him these days.
“Got a second?”
I hesitate, glancing toward Parker to make sure she doesn’t need me for anything else.
“I’ll talk to you later,” she says, obviously sensing whatever Joshua needs isn’t work-related. “I should go make sure Grandma Estelle doesn’t turn into an ice cube from spending all day in the cold ogling those firefighters.”
“Itisthe most wonderful time of the year, as she says,” I reply with a laugh.
“She’s not the only one who thinks so.” She gestures at the dozens of women sitting on the back porch.
“Gotta love small towns.”
“I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else,” Parker sings as she heads toward the towering Norway spruce, leaving me alone with Joshua.
At one point, I may have felt a bit awkward being around him like this, considering our history. But we worked throughit. Realized we were always better off as friends than romantic partners.
Now I can’t imagine not having him as a friend.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, noticing his nervous expression.
He glances around, as if he wants to be sure we won’t be overheard. “Do you remember that ancestry kit we did a while back?”
“Of course. You were so excited when you learned you were Scottish. Started saving money to go one day.”
“I still am.” He gives a soft laugh, but it fades quickly. “I made my results public a few months ago. Just on a whim, I guess. Since I don’t know much about my father, apart from my mom telling me he was a guy she had a one-night stand with back in college, I thought maybe I’d match with a distant cousin or something.”
“Did you?” I ask, all too familiar with his desire to learn more about his family, particularly after losing his mother to cancer early this year.
“I did. Only it wasn’t a cousin.” He pauses, drawing in a small breath. “It was my father.”
“Are you serious?” My eyes widen. “Did you reach out?”
