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“Don’t worry about it,” Henry assured her. He was startled to find that he didn’t want to let go of her shoulders. It felt natural, as if his hands belonged exactly where they were. “No harm done. Just glad you didn’t hurt yourself walking into the ladder.”

She stepped back slightly, and Henry let his arms drop, immediately missing the connection. “I was completely absorbed in my book,” she explained, holding up the paperback with a slightly sheepish smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the time to buy a book and be excited about reading it. I couldn’t wait to look at it.”

“Something new or something you’ve already read before?” Henry asked, genuinely curious and also reluctant to end their conversation. There was something about her that felt like a spark of interest that he hadn’t felt in years.

“Jane Austen,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “I know it’s probably silly to be rereading Pride and Prejudice at my age, but sometimes it’s nice to have the comfort of a story you know will end well.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that. “Nothing silly about that at all,” he said warmly. “Sometimes the best stories are the ones that we can just disappear into without being worried that it’ll make us feel badly.”

“Right!” Her smile broadened. “Anyway, I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll have to be more careful in the future.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t hurt yourself.” Henry stepped back, feeling suddenly guilty for keeping her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” She flashed him another smile and kept walking, and he reached up absently to rub his chest, a warm feeling there that surprised him. He’d felt a connection with her that he hadn’t felt in a long time, but it was silly to linger on it, he told himself.

Fir Tree Grove was packed with tourists this time of year. At least half, if not more, of the people walking around every day during the holiday season were from out of town, and she had almost certainly been one of those. He’d never seen her before, and he doubted he would see her again.

Picking up his ladder and his tools, Henry headed back to his truck to go about the rest of his day.

* * *

The Snowdrift Diner was busier than Nicole had expected for a Monday lunchtime. Every booth and table was occupied with locals and tourists alike, all chattering and enjoying meals of the diner’s incredible-smelling food. The interior was exactly what she’d hoped for—a traditional U-shaped diner counter, red vinyl booths, a checkered floor, and large windows that let the winter sunlight in. The walls were covered with photos and framed newspaper articles about the town, some appearing to be very old, and it had a warm, friendly, homey atmosphere that instantly drew her in.

She stood just inside the entrance waiting on the hostess, her laptop bag slung over her shoulder and her stomach growling. She surveyed the crowded dining room and wondered if she should wait for a table or venture elsewhere for lunch. She’d planned to spend the afternoon researching job opportunities online, figuring that a public space with Wi-Fi would be more conducive to productivity than the cozy comfort of her room at the Hearthside Cottage.

“I’m so sorry about the wait,” called a voice from behind the counter, and Nicole looked up to see a man who looked to be in his late thirties approaching with the harried but cheerful expression of someone managing a busy lunch rush. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and eyes, wearing an apron over his jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“I’m Jackson Hayes, owner of this chaotic establishment,” he continued, extending his hand with a smile that immediately put Nicole at ease. “We’re unusually busy today—I think half the town decided to have lunch here at the same time. Are you looking for a table?”

“Nicole Peterson. I just got into town for a stay. And I am,” Nicole replied, shaking his offered hand. “But I can see you’re swamped. I don’t mind waiting, or I could come back later if that would be easier.”

Jackson’s expression brightened with obvious appreciation for her understanding. “Actually, I have an idea that might work for everyone,” he said, glancing toward a booth in the corner where a pretty woman with auburn hair in a French braid sat alone, her hands wrapped around a mug and her attention focused on something outside the window.

“That’s my wife, Vanessa,” Jackson explained with a fond smile. “She was just taking a break from work, but she’ll be heading out soon anyway. Would you mind sharing the booth with her? She’d probably enjoy the company, and it would save you from waiting for a table.”

Nicole followed his gaze to the woman in the corner booth. “I don’t want to intrude on her quiet time,” Nicole said, although the prospect of sitting down was increasingly appealing as the lunch crowd pressed around them.

“Trust me, she’d love to meet someone new,” Jackson assured her. “Vanessa’s one of the most social people I know, and she’s been feeling a bit cooped up lately since she cut back her hours at work.”

“I… sure,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. Before she could second-guess her decision, Jackson was already leading her across the dining room toward the corner booth. Vanessa looked up as they approached, her face immediately brightening.

“Vanessa, I’d like you to meet Nicole,” Jackson said, his hand resting briefly on his wife’s shoulder. “She’s new in town and looking for a place to sit. Would you mind some company?”

“I’d love some company,” Vanessa replied immediately, gesturing to the empty side of the booth with enthusiasm that seemed completely genuine. “Please, sit down. I just needed to rest a minute,” she said with a laugh, gesturing to her generously pregnant bump. I was just people-watching and thinking about baby names, which gets boring after a while.”

Nicole slid into the booth across from Vanessa, seeing the generous bump under her forest-green sweater. She had that pregnancy glow in spades, but she also looked tired, and a little restless. Nicole could remember that stage, when her pregnancy had stopped feeling quite so magical and more like she wanted to just hurry up and meet her daughter.

“Jackson said you’re new in town?” Vanessa asked as her husband headed back to manage the lunch rush. “Are you visiting for the holidays, or is this more of a permanent move?”

“I’m honestly not sure yet,” Nicole admitted, surprised by how easy it felt to be honest with this stranger. “I’m… well, I’m thinking about starting over here, but I’m still figuring out whether Fir Tree Grove might be the right place. I’ve only been here a day,” she added with a laugh.

Vanessa’s expression warmed. “I totally understand that,” she said, her tone almost confidential. “I moved here three years ago after coming to just stay for the holidays. My grandmother had a minor injury and needed help at her toy shop. I didn’t plan on changing up my life to move here at all, but then one thing led to another, and…”

She shrugged, her gaze drifting to Jackson, and Nicole could guess what the “one thing” had been.

“And how did it work out for you?” Nicole asked, genuinely curious. She found herself hoping that maybe Vanessa could give her a bit of wisdom that might help her with her own decision.

“Better than I ever could have imagined,” Vanessa said, touching her belly with a smile. “I have my grandmother, a husband, a job that’s so much more fulfilling, a gorgeous house, and now a baby on the way. I didn’t plan for any of it, but it all worked out the way it was supposed to… honestly, when I stopped worrying so much about how it was going to work out. I’ve always been a planner, but I learned to relax and let go, and it’s served me really well.”