That was when I saw the stuffies.
An entire display covered the table. Bears. Foxes. Penguins. Owls. Creatures I couldn't immediately identify. Every single one looked handmade, and every single one looked loved.
A young woman with wild curls looked up from rearranging the display. She must be Levi’s sister, which is hardly surprising since their eyes and colouring are so much alike.
"Feel free to pick them up," she said. "They get offended if people only admire them from a distance."
I laughed despite myself.
“This one is Barnaby,” she said, pointing to a bear. “And these are Winston, Ferdie, Oliver, and Percy,” she continued, pointing to a wolf, fox, otter, and penguin.
I nodded, as if I’d remember all their names in the next five minutes. Then my gaze landed on a small stuffed moose wearing a green scarf.
For some reason, I couldn't stop looking at it.
Paige’s eyes followed my gaze. “He’s Mr. Maple.”
I looked down at the little moose again.
The scarf around his neck sat slightly crooked, as though somebody had tied it in a hurry. One of his antlers leaned a little farther to the left than the other. He wasn't perfect.
That was probably why I liked him.
Carefully, I picked him up.
The fabric felt soft beneath my fingers. The weight settled comfortably against my chest while I examined the stitching along one side. Paige had taken their time. Every seam looked deliberate. Every tiny imperfection somehow made him feel more real.
"See?" Paige said, sounding entirely too pleased with herself. "He picked you."
I laughed. "That's not how stuffed moose work."
"That's exactly how stuffed moose work." The certainty in her voice suggested this was an argument she had won many times before.
For a second, I found myself smiling down at Mr. Maple.
Then, without really thinking about it, I hugged him lightly against my chest. The gesture lasted less than a heartbeat. Just long enough for warmth to spread through me unexpectedly. Just long enough to forget I wasn't alone. Awareness hit a second later. Heat immediately climbed into my face. I carefully returned Mr. Maple to the table. When I looked up, Paige was watching me.
Her smile was small and entirely too perceptive. The kind of smile that suggested she'd just figured something out. "He's got good taste."
I pretended not to know who she was talking about.
The truth was that Mr. Maple would have fit perfectly on the shelf beside my bed. He was just a stuffed moose. Yet every time I looked at him, I felt the same ridiculous urge to pick him up again.
Instead, I slipped my hands into my pockets and stepped away from the display. "Come on," I said, forcing a smile. "If I learn the names of any more stuffed animals, I'm going to start feeling obligated to remember birthdays."
Paige laughed. The sound followed us as we moved farther down the row of vendors.
For the next few minutes, my attention bounced between ornaments, food stalls, and holiday decorations. Still, every now and then, I caught myself glancing back toward the booth. Often enough to annoy myself.
The problem wasn't Paige. Paige had already made it abundantly clear she'd noticed. The problem was Thane. I hadn't looked directly at him after the whole Mr. Maple incident.
Not really. Partly because I wasn't sure I wanted to know whether he'd seen it. And partly because I was afraid he had. Which was ridiculous. He was probably paying attention to the market. Or the lights. Or literally anything else.
Yet every time I considered looking over, I found a reason not to. A Christmas ornament. A wreath. A food stall. Anything but Thane Hale.
Unfortunately, avoiding him did absolutely nothing to stop me from thinking about the stuffed moose I'd left behind.
NINETEEN
