CHAPTER ONE
The gold bell decorated with mistletoe above the door of Artisan Chocolates chimed for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. Imogen Sanders looked up from the display case she was restocking to see two separate families walking into the store, bundled up against the late November chill. Imogen hadn’t had a moment’s rest, she thought, since well before Thanksgiving, but it was impossible to complain even if she’d wanted to. All of Fir Tree Grove thrived on the tourist season, particularly during the holidays, when families from the city came to spend time in the quaint, small town and slow down a little for a weekend or longer.
The door swung shut behind the group of new customers, all of their cheeks pink from the crisp air. They stomped their boots on the welcome mat, shaking off the light dusting of snow that had begun falling an hour earlier.
“Welcome to Artisan Chocolates,” Imogen called out with a smile, dusting her hands off on her apron as she closed the display case, a fresh, glistening tray of peppermint cream-filled chocolates arranged perfectly inside. “Come in and warm up! We have samples of our newest flavors just there.” She gestured atthe table next to the front door. “And let me know if you want to sample any of the hot chocolate.”
Everyone—parents and children alike—was eager to try the samples. Imogen had set out bourbon caramel, pecan milk chocolate, and peppermint cream this morning, and with how busy the day had been, the tray had needed to be refilled several times. One of the mothers came over to ask for a sample of caramel hot chocolate, and Imogen filled a small paper sample cup while the children, from young to teenaged, looked around the shop with wide eyes as they took in the displays of handcrafted chocolates, the large center section filled with fudge, and the hot chocolate station. The rich aroma of dark chocolate and vanilla filled the air, mingling with the cinnamon and nutmeg from the holiday spice truffles Imogen had been perfecting all week.
“Mom, look at all this!” one of the teenagers exclaimed, pressing her face close to the glass case filled with Christmas-themed chocolates shaped like snowflakes, reindeer, and tiny Christmas trees dusted with edible gold.
Imogen smiled as she handed over the sample of caramel hot chocolate, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction at the girl’s wonder. Teenagers were hard to impress, so she felt like she’d done well to see someone her age so enthused. And it was why she loved the holidays, despite the endless bustle and busyness of it all. There was so much wonder and joy this time of year, and she tried hard to never lose sight of it, no matter how tired she was. The winter tourism always reminded her, also, how special it was to live in a place like this all of the time, and not just for vacation.
“Everything is made fresh,” Imogen explained, moving behind the counter to grab a tray of fudge samples for the two boys who were eagerly staring at the thick bricks of chocolate. “These are our most popular flavors—dark chocolate sea salt,maple walnut, and of course, peppermint. You can’t get enough peppermint this time of year, right?”
As the family sampled and debated their purchases, the bell chimed again. Then again. And again. A steady stream of visitors flowed through the door: couples bundled in matching scarves, families with small children who cajoled their parents until they were brought inside, and groups of friends laden with shopping bags from the other stores that lined Fir Tree Grove’s historic Main Street.
The post-lunch rush was relentless. Imogen was in constant motion—getting samples, offering suggestions, wrapping up boxes of chocolates in the customer’s choice of wrapping paper and ribbon. She offered silver and gold options for the more elegant tastes, a rustic butcher paper-like option tied with twine, and a matte red with green Christmas trees printed on it for something more kitschy, along with red, green, silver, and gold ribbon options. She’d even added a tartan one this year, and was slightly regretting it. The more options, the longer it took for customers to pick. She had similarly festive bags for purchases as well, and in between wrapping and bagging, she was ringing up sales, refilling sample trays, and answering endless questions about ingredients and shelf life.
She wondered sometimes if she shouldn’t get an employee or two, but she liked feeling as if the shop was all hers, and she didn’t mind the rush, really, even if her feet were starting to hurt by the time it hit four in the afternoon.
Especially since, in addition to all of the usual holiday busy work and customer service, she also needed to keep an eye on her seven-year-old daughter, Katie, who seemed to have an exceptional amount of energy today. School had officially let out for the holidays, and she was determined not to make Katie feel like she needed to help out at the shop. Some days Katie went over to a friend’s house while Imogen worked, but today she’dneeded to come to the shop with her mother, and she’d been bouncing off the walls since they’d arrived.
Customers always found her adorable though, especially since shelovedhanding out samples… and sneaking them when her mother wasn’t looking.Maybe that’s why I’ve had to refill it so many times,Imogen thought as she caught a breath, when the shop emptied and stayed that way for more than a full minute. It also might explain why Katie had such boundless energy today, if she’d been sneaking sugar since nine in the morning.
“You could be in the back room reading,” Imogen suggested, as she went to collect the half-empty tray from Katie. “You have your winter reading list that your teachers gave you. Iknowyou’re going to want to watch Christmas movies tonight, so…”
She looked at her daughter expectantly, who pouted slightly before following her mother to the break room in the back and plopping down in one of the chairs. Her chestnut hair, very much like Imogen’s, was in a messy bun on top of her head, escaping in pieces.
There was a book already sitting on the table, a dog-eared copy ofCharlotte’s Webfrom the library. Katie flopped down in her chair, reaching for the book, and Imogen leaned over to drop a kiss on top of her head.
“Get your two chapters in for today and finish your report, and then we can see about you helping out in the shop some more,” Imogen said firmly. “Especially if you want to do anything fun tonight.”
Katie huffed dramatically but focused in on her book, and Imogen headed back out to the shop floor, giving her daughter an affectionate glance as she walked out.
The next two hours passed in a blur. Imogen’s feet ached despite her comfortable flats, and she’d lost count of how many times she’d explained the difference between milk chocolate anddark chocolate ganache. Her lower back protested from bending over the display cases, and she’d consumed far too much coffee trying to maintain her energy levels.
But seeing the delight on customers’ faces as they sampled her creations made it all worthwhile. She’d poured her heart into perfecting each recipe, often staying up late in the kitchen, testing and adjusting until each piece of chocolate was exactly right. It was all her pride and joy, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way, even if she was exhausted.
By five-thirty, the steady stream of customers had finally slowed to a trickle. The last family had left with two pounds of assorted chocolates and promises to return before heading home, and Imogen found herself alone with Katie for the first time all day.
She leaned against the counter and let out a long breath, pushing a strand of hair back from her face. Her neat morning ponytail had loosened throughout the day, and she could feel several pieces curling around her cheeks in the warmth of the shop.
“Tired, Mama?” Katie asked, appearing at Imogen’s elbow with her completed report in hand.
“A little,” Imogen admitted, accepting the paper and giving it a quick review. It looked good to her, and she’d tuck it away with the rest of Katie’s reading homework to give to the teacher after break. She thought ahead to the rest of the evening—they’d need to make dinner, and then they could curl up on the couch. She could make hot cocoa and they could start the list of Christmas movies Katie had said she wanted to watch over break. Right now, all she wanted to do was sit, but there wasn’t anyone else to take care of the list of chores that awaited her once she got home.
She’d never change her life for anything, but she couldn’t deny there were a lot of challenges that came with being a single mother. It made her grateful for the close-knit group of friendsthat she had as a support group. It made her feel like she wasn’t alone, like even on the difficult days she always had someone to lean on.
“Mama,” Katie said, tugging on Imogen’s apron, “can we go to the park after you close up? Please? Emma said they’re setting up games for tonight, and there’s going to be hot chocolate, and maybe even carolers!”
Imogen looked down at her daughter’s hopeful face and felt a tug of guilt. She was exhausted just at the thought of going to the park and engaging with all of the Christmas cheer, as much as she loved the holiday. But Katie had been cooped up in the shop all day, reading and talking to customers. She deserved to run around and play with her friends, to experience all the magic that this small Maine town had to offer during the holiday season. Every year, Imogen’s goal was always to make sure that Katie didn’t miss out on any Christmas magic.
“Please, Mama?” Katie continued, and Imogen knew there was no way she was going to be able to say no. “Emma and Sophia are going to be there, and Mrs. Henderson said they’re going to have a scavenger hunt with prizes. I never get to go to the fun stuff because we’re always working.”
“You know what?” Imogen said, decision made. “Let’s do it. Let me just finish cleaning up here, and we’ll walk over to the park.” She smiled at Katie. “Grab your coat and scarf and gloves, and we’ll head out in just a few minutes.
Katie let out an exclamation of delight, rushing to get her coat while shouting back to her mother a detailed explanation of all the activities Emma had told her about, her words tumbling over each other in excitement. She was out of breath by the time she’d finished bundling up, and Imogen smiled. It was impossible not to be excited by Katie’s enthusiasm, no matter how tired she was.
