Brice, who had been loading feed into the back of his truck, glanced over at the bakery where they could see Jade working under the kitchen sink. "Looks like she's got the hang of basic repairs," he observed. "Haven't seen any sparks this afternoon.”
"Yet," Leo muttered, but he had to admit the lack of electrical emergencies was promising.
He tried to focus on the task at hand, checking the leather straps and metal buckles with methodical precision. But his eyes kept drifting back to the bakery window, where he could see Jade working on something in the kitchen, probably the sink as he knew it was under the window.
Focus, he told himself, moving to Snowflake’s harness.You have work to do.
But watching her push a strand of hair out of her face with the back of her wrist brought back a sudden, vivid memory of her doing the exact same thing in Mr. Peterson's physics class. She'd been bent over their bridge project, trying to calculate the stress load on the popsicle stick joints, her brow furrowed in concentration. When she'd pushed her hair back just like that, he'd lost his train of thought completely.
He'd been seventeen and hopeless, stealing glances at her across the lab table while pretending to understand anything about structural engineering. The bridge had collapsedspectacularly during testing—forty-seven pounds before complete failure—but he'd been too distracted by the way she bit her lip when she was thinking to care much about their grade.
Leo shook his head, trying to dispel the memory. That was a long time ago. They were different people now. She was a woman who'd built a life in Boston, who'd seen the world beyond Frost Pine Ridge's borders. He was still here, still taking care of the same reindeer, still living the same small-town life she'd been so eager to escape.
Through the window, he saw her get back down on the floor and disappear under the sink again. A few minutes later, the sound of running water drifted across the yard—steady, strong water that suggested she'd actually succeeded.
Despite everything, despite his determination to keep his distance, Leo found himself smiling.
Some things, apparently, never changed.
CHAPTER SIX
It was mid-afternoon, and Jade was adding another batch of Mabel’s thumbprint cookies to the display case when the bell above the bakery door jangled with a frantic energy that made Jade jump. A small whirlwind of pink snowsuit and flying dark curls skidded across the floor.
Behind her, a deep voice yelled, “Lila, no!”
Leo Carter stood in the doorway. Snow clung to his sandy-brown hair and the shoulders of his worn flannel jacket. He stopped short and glanced around the room. Garland looped across the front windows, thick and green, with shiny red bows tied at the corners. Strings of tiny white lights twinkled like someone had trapped a night sky indoors. Ornaments dangled from ribbons in the window—glass baubles, silver stars, even a couple of wooden reindeer cutouts.
He muttered, “Looks like elves threw up in here.”
Felicity spun from a stool where she’d been balancing on tiptoe, fussing with another bow. “It’s festive!” she sang, her smile bright as the lights. “People want cozy. Nostalgic. The kind of place they stop in without thinking.”
Leo grunted. “They’ll trip on all this ribbon before they make it to the counter.”
“Uncle Leo!” The girl had already made it to the display case, her nose pressed against the glass. “Look how bright everything is! And there are cookies shaped like reindeer! It’s so pretty!”
“Lila,” Leo said, his voice softer now. “We talked about this. You don’t just run into places.”
“But it’s cold! And it smells like cookies!” Lila countered, her logic impeccable. She turned her bright, curious gaze on Jade. “Hi! You’re the new bakery girl, aren’t you? Did you help make it so beautiful?”
Leo’s gaze found Jade’s, and despite his grumbling about the decorations, she saw something warmer in his expression than the wary distance from their electrical disaster encounter. “The place does look brighter.”
Before Jade could answer, Mabel emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face lit up at the sight of Lila, and she immediately swept the girl into a warm hug.
“There’s my favorite little baker!” Mabel said, squeezing tight before releasing her. She turned to Jade, keeping one arm around Lila’s shoulders.
“Jade, I’d like you to meet Lila Carter. She’s Steve’s girl. Leo helps out raising her.”
“Nice to meet you, Lila,” Jade said, crouching down to the girl’s eye level. “I love your snowsuit.”
Lila beamed. “Thank you! Uncle Leo got it for me. He says bright colors are important so the reindeer can see me coming.”
Jade glanced up at Leo, who was watching the interaction with a gentle expression she’d never seen before. Something shifted in her understanding of him. Leo Carter wasn’t just the guy who’d stayed in Frost Pine Ridge because he was afraid to leave—he’d stayed to help raise his niece. He’d chosen family responsibility over personal freedom. There was more depth to him than she’d given him credit for.
“Leo’s been wonderful with her,” Mabel continued, pride evident in her voice. “Between him, Ben and Steve, Lila’s got more love and attention than most kids with two parents.”
Leo’s jaw tightened slightly at the mention of two parents, and Jade caught the shadow that crossed his face. There was a story there, one that explained why Leo was helping to raise his brother’s daughter.
“Lila, this,” Mabel said, turning to Jade with a theatrical sweep of her arm, “is my niece, Jade. She’s the one responsible for all the improvements.”
