“She certainly did. And I might’ve even commandeered one for myself. I couldn’t resist.”
Laughing heartily, Holly flung a checkered print dishtowel over her shoulder. “All you need to do is ask, Holden. I’ll let you order off the kid’s menu anytime you like. You already know that.”
Miss Holly had been in charge of the establishment since Holden was Laney’s age, and the memories he had of sitting around the table in her café ushered in a nostalgia he couldn’t ignore.
That’s what he loved about Snowdrift Summit. Sure, it was a small town, but that phrase felt so limiting. Nothing was small about the relationships formed here. About the memories created with people who shared not only the same zip code, but a rich history of celebration and tradition. On the outside, Snowdrift offered mountain views with sweeping, natural landscapes of pristine white. But it was the people who called the place home who provided the real beauty, their generosity and love every bit as spectacular as the scenery surrounding them.
And it was why Christmas was such a big deal around the place. And why having a tree chosen to represent the town truly meant something.
For over one-hundred and fifty years, the Christmas Committee scouted and selected the finest local tree, fit to be adorned with brilliant lights and antique ornaments. They would place the lucky evergreen directly at the end of Main Street, so everyone who passed through could effortlessly glimpse its grand splendor on full display.
Legend was that the first Snowdrift Christmas tree even had a little to do with the town’s founding. For years, Snowdrift served as a trading post for settlers brave enough to venture through the High Sierra on their route toward the Sacramento Valley. Crossing these mountains in the dead of winter was a risky, dangerous endeavor. But promises of gold lured many over those hills and toward a future filled with land and riches. For most, Snowdrift was a pass-through on the route to the fulfillment of bigger dreams.
Only a handful of pioneers called the place home back in those days. There were a few shops on what was now Main Street, and only a scattering of cabins lining the ridge surrounding town.
But that first year, the townspeople thought weary travelers deserved a tree of their own. Covered wagons barely had room to house the basics, and a Christmas tree wasn’t an essential item. But one glimpse at that lovely tree had voyagers setting up camp. And the hospitality of the townspeople and spirit of the season caused many to change course with their plans and plant down permanent roots in Snowdrift instead.
Over the years, Holden sometimes wondered if the tale boasted more bits of folklore than the original telling, but it didn’t matter. There was something special about a town like Snowdrift Summit and he was grateful every day that he was fortunate enough to call the place home.
“Thank you,” Sarah said when he finally came back to the table with the requested napkins. “Any chance you want to trade jobs and hold her for a bit instead? She’s about to wiggle right out of my lap.”
“Clean the table or snuggle my adorable niece? Is that even a question?” He scooped the baby into his arms. “How about I take her outside for a change of scenery?”
“That would be great.” Sarah swiped the crumbs into a pile. “I actually need to put in an order for a couple of Holly’s holiday pies, so if you don’t mind taking Laney on a little stroll, I’ll meet up with you when I’m all finished here.” She pulled the strap of the diaper bag from her seat back and passed it her brother’s way. “And take this. Always good to be prepared.”
Holden moved the large bag onto his shoulder, swiveled Laney to his hip, and gave Sarah a quick hug before heading out the door.
Fresh mountain air skated over his skin in an invigorating welcome.
“What do you say we go for a little walk, Laney girl?” He lifted the hood of her puffy jacket over her head to keep the wind out of her ears. “Main Street is all decked out, so there’s lots to see.”
He took her to the bookstore first. They stopped in front of the window display and admired the tower of hardcover books, all stacked and positioned to form a literary tree. Even the door to the shop had a wreath fashioned from old, worn books with a large, festive bow made from pages tied right at the top.
There was Christmas creativity on every corner. Laney especially liked the General Store’s display, with its moving train that whistled and chugged. She pressed her chubby hands to the glass, leaning in to get a closer look.
“Want to go inside?” Holden suggested. His mother had asked that he pick up an icepack for his father, so Holden figured he could kill two birds with one stone: keep Laney entertained while also checking the errand off of his to-do list.
A bell chimed his entrance and Laney looked up to locate the ringing sound.
“Ding, ding, ding,” Holden mimicked, which got the squeal he’d hoped to draw out from the child. “Ding, ding, ding.”
He continued ringing away, his volume getting louder and intonation sillier with each repetition. He even added a little dancing shuffle to the melody, and the two boogied their way through the aisles.
Laney mimicked her uncle’s antics, really feeling it.
Holden was all in. He trotted backward as he shimmied to their made-up song, losing himself in the sheer goofiness of it all.
He’d lost himself so much, in fact, that he didn’t notice the customer behind him in the same aisle. Not until he smacked straight into them, nearly knocking them over.
He spun around.
Icy blue eyes as wide as glass ornaments pinned him with a look of disbelief.
“Oh!” Holden stopped dancing, but Laney kept on recitingding, ding, dinglike a needle caught on repeat in the groove of a record. “Hey.”
“Hey there,Buddy,” Rachel said. She had a Bluetooth speaker in her hands and a heated look on her face that could melt a snowman.
“This isn’t what it looks like.” He shifted Laney to his other hip.
