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“What are you going to do?” Cassidy asked.

Emily looked down at Muff, at the dog’s unconcerned, faithful face pressed against her knee.

“I have to apologize,” she said. “He deserves that.”

“He deserves that.”

“He does.”

A moment passed.

“Cass,” she said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“What if he doesn’t open the door?”

Cassidy looked at her for a long moment. “Then you’ll know you tried,” she said. “And that’ll have to be enough.”

Emily nodded slowly. Finished her cocoa. Let the warmth of the apartment and the weight of the dog and the soft glow of a hundred Christmas lights hold her for a little while longer.

She knew what she had to do.

She just had to hope Cole would give her a chance.

THIRTY-EIGHT

COLE

Tuesday, December 22nd

The apartment was quiet when Cole got back.

He didn’t turn on the overhead light. Just stood in the kitchen in his coat for a moment, the Christmas lights from the street casting their soft color through the window. The quiet settled around him.

Captain appeared in the bedroom doorway, took one look at him, and walked over, head down, tail wagging. Cole crouched and let the dog nose at his hands, his face, then gave him plenty of scratches.

Captain gave a few appreciative barks, which turned into yowls, which was how it often was with him. Captain was the most vocal dog Cole had ever known.

“I know,” Cole said.

He straightened. Took off his coat. Hung it on the hook next to the stocking the crafting club had put there, which he still hadn’t moved.

He’d said it. Out loud, in the Kettle, in front of everyone. I was falling in love with you. He’d said it, and then he’d walked out because standing there a second longer would have cost him something he didn’t have left to give tonight.

He wasn’t sure if saying it had been brave or stupid. He was leaning toward both.

He stood at the counter and zoned out, trying to work out how he felt about the evening, which was something Cole rarely struggled with because he generally knew how he felt; he just chose not to say it.

He didn’t sleep that night. Not much anyway.

One minute he was staring at the ceiling, running a loop of the evening through his head, and the next he smelled freshly brewed coffee coming from the communal kitchen outside his room.

He didn’t know which member of his crew was out in the kitchen. Jackson and Tyler were supposed to meet the road crew at seven to clear two hydrants the plows had buried again. After that, they still had a leaning pine to take down behind the library and three welfare checks on the north side of town.

Cole thought about ignoring whoever it was completely.

But then he thought about the past week. Digging out emergency exits. Delivering food baskets. Hauling firewood to people whose furnaces had quit. Cutting branches from roofs and dragging stranded cars out of drifts. Working until their gloves froze stiff, then coming back to the station to dry their gear and start again. It took a lot to build that trust as a team. And team leaders didn’t hide out in their bedrooms because they’d gotten into a fight with the woman they’d been seeing.