It was pitch-dark outside, but the snow called to her. She turned, filled her mug up with the rich spiced cocoa, and stepped outside to look up at the beautiful starry sky.
Snow had been falling off and on since she’d moved to Maple Falls, but tonight felt different. It was the kind of snow she’d loved since she was a little girl, when she would press her face to the frosty window of her childhood home, waiting for the first flakes to fall.
She tipped her face up now, letting the big, fluffy flakes land on her lashes and cling to her hair. The chilly wind tickled her face. It was a cold that woke her up from the inside, reminding her she was here, alive, chasing a dream she’d carried in her heart since she was old enough to hold a cup of cocoa with both hands.
Sure, it snowed in Paris, but not like this. There was nothing like the hush of a small town wrapped in Christmas lights, where the world seemed to hold its breath and time slowed.
Moments like this were why she was here in Maple Falls, cocoa in hand, heart wide open. Christmas. Snow. Magic. It was everything she wanted her life to be.
Her heart had been broken last Christmas and she had sworn this year would be different. No more people-pleasing. No more rolling over for others. She had even made a vow: No men for an entire year. She needed to focus on herself, and so far, it had worked out perfectly.
Her dog, Muffin Marie, or Muff for short, had trotted outside with her and seemed to love the snow just as much as she did. The energetic goldendoodle bounded a few steps forward, then crouched low, ready to pounce on a fresh pile of snow.
“Whatcha see, girl?” she asked her pup.
Muff took that as her cue, spinning in wild circles along the sidewalk, nose buried in the snow one second then springing up the next with a playful bark, a full-blown case of the zoomies taking over as her curly white coat turned into a blur.
Cassidy couldn’t help but look up at the stars and smile. In that moment, the snow felt like a sign. “Okay, universe. I see you. I feel you. You’re giving soft Hallmark energy, and I am here for it.”
Aside from Muff, the street was silent. Wisps of smoke curled from chimneys and soft lights flickered behind shop windows. Across the street, the darkened window ofthe Hot Honey Farm Shopreflected the glow of the streetlights, a wreath hanging on the door, and a few pine garlands draped over the entry. Next door, theMaple Leaf Caféhad a single string of lights, while thePumpkin Pie Bakeryboasted a swaying inflatable gingerbread man. Here and there, hints of Christmas had already arrived. But soon, the whole street would come alive with garlands and glowing lights, like the town itself was stepping into its own fairy tale.
Suddenly Cassidy realized she was barefoot in the snow. Her feet were turning into popsicles, and she was rather fond of her toes.
“C’mon, Muff. Let’s head back in.” She turned back to the door, when a quick twist of the knob had her frantically shaking her head.
She jiggled the handle. Nothing.
Tried again. Still locked.
“Oh no. No, no, no…”
She peered through the frosty glass out of habit. She lived alone now—there’d be no one to rescue her—and her keys were safely in her purse inside.
“How? Why?” she asked the stars. Muff replied with a playful woof.
Cassidy stepped back and placed both hands on her hips. “I am a grown woman. I have lived in another country and started my own business. I will not be defeated by a door.”
Muff barked supportively from the snowbank.
She turned to her. “Thank you. That’s one vote of confidence.”
The cold seeped into her bare toes, and she shivered. “Great. First day, and I’m going to lose a toe.”
She glanced up at the dark second-story apartment window. “Should I climb up?” she asked Muff.
Muff barked softly, wagging her tail in encouragement.
“You going to catch me if I fall?” she asked the pup.
“She won’t. But I will,” came a warm, deep voice.
Cassidy froze, as if she had forgotten how her legs worked. Which definitely wasn’t a good thing, in case this man turned out to be a complete psycho. It was the middle of the night, after all.
Muff barked and pranced over to greet the probable psycho and she turned to call her pup back. Her voice caught in her throat.
Psycho or not, this guy was tall, broad-shouldered, and dusted in snowflakes as if Santa Claus himself had conjured him.
His flannel shirt peeked out beneath a heavy coat, his dark hair was tousled, and a pair of worn boots crunched the snow, packing it into the earth as he strode toward her confidently.
