He tried to reroute his thoughts. He didn’t know Cassidy well. He’d heard things around town, snippets from Madison and Zach, even his mom. She’d lived in Paris. Owned a shop there. Something about a breakup. She was a happy, bright, and smiling kind of person, and to his great annoyance, she was the town’s biggest fan of Christmas, which was saying a lot.
But there was more to her, he could sense it. She had a darker kind of depth. He wanted to know her story. Not just the one wrapped in silky sheets and cocoa-smudged kisses, but the kind of story that shaped a person.
Liam’s truck rumbled as it turned onto the gravel drive leading to the family farm. The wrought-iron archway above the entrance was strung with evergreen garlands, white twinkle lights, and a red bow nearly as wide as his wingspan.
His mom’s handiwork, of course. She still believed in the magic of the season. Beth handled all the farm’s decorating, right down to the gift barn, where they sold the same goods he now offered in town: honey, jams, alpaca knits, hand-poured candles. They sold the type of gifts that made you feel appreciated, remembered.
Coming out to the farm today hadn’t exactly been on Liam’s list. He’d just been here on Sunday for lunch. A tradition his mom insisted on keeping alive. One o’clock sharp, every Sunday. Open-door policy. Anyone from town could drop in and usually did.
It had started back when Jackson was deployed, and their sister, Lily, was always somewhere across the globe chasing sunshine and Wi-Fi. Liam never missed a Sunday, not even now, when he’d rather skip right over the holidays.
On Sunday, Beth had served up country-fried steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, and apple pie for dessert. Mayor Bloomfield had dropped by, along with his lady friend, Edith, and Mrs. Bishop. Her kitchen renovation still wasn’t done, despite Zach’s best efforts. Mrs. Bishop had decided to rearrange everything, including the kitchen sink, and Liam had since learned not to ask his best friend how things were going.
His mom had a habit of filling the table with guests. “The more, the merrier,” she always said. And no one loved a full house more than she did.
But today, Liam was here for a different reason.
The town Christmas tree.
His family had supplied the massive spruce that stood in Maple Falls’ center square for generations. He should’ve delivered it yesterday, but he’d avoided the crowds—the Christmas cheer, the Santa House, Cassidy. Now, with just a few hours until the tree lighting ceremony, he had to get it loaded and into town.
He pulled into the gravel lot, parked, and stepped out. A cold gust hit his face, and he inhaled the sharp scent of pine and woodsmoke. Over by the barn, Jackson was already tying down the last of the netting around the spruce.
“Hey, man,” Liam called, walking over. “Thanks for getting that started.”
“Figured I’d make your life easier for once,” Jackson replied, tugging the twine taut. Typical Jackson—stoic, efficient. His way of saying he cared without actually saying it.
“You sure you don’t want to come into town with me?”
Jackson paused. “Nah, once last night was enough.”
Liam nodded, not pushing. He understood that heaviness that no amount of holiday cheer could lift.
They were twins but completely different. Always had been. Liam had been the joker, the flirt, the fun one. And he still was, except for this time of year. Jackson was quiet, serious, and methodical year-round. The war had only deepened that divide.
Their mom came out just then, sweater wrapped tightly around her, ladle in hand. The smell of onion, garlic, and thyme drifted toward him.
“I was hoping to catch you before you left,” she said. “I made beef stew. There’s plenty extra. Come in and eat before you go.”
Liam leaned down so she could kiss his cheek. It was automatic, like muscle memory.
“I’d love to,” he said, “but I’m already behind. If I don’t get that tree into town before four, Mayor Bloomfield will come knocking on my door.”
She gave him a look. “Then you’ll take it to go.”
Before he could argue, she was already heading back inside.
Liam turned back to Jackson, who was stacking firewood beside the oversized pit they kept burning from fall through winter. It gave customers a place to warm up after tree shopping, but mostly, it made outdoor work a little more bearable.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Fixing one of the sleigh tracks. They’ve been working overtime since Friday,” Jackson said, tossing another log onto the flames.
Liam nodded. Sleigh rides were one of the farm’s biggest draws. Pair that with cocoa, fresh-cut trees, and photo ops by the barn, and they had a holiday destination.
As Liam turned back toward his truck and loaded the tree, Cassidy’s laugh from yesterday echoed in his memory. Bright and unapologetic, like her smile. Like snowflakes falling in sunshine.
Why was he so drawn to her?
