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“Actually,” she said slowly, “I’ve been thinking about something bigger. I have this… well, it’s probably silly, but I have this dream of starting my own shop someday. Not just selling at markets and craft fairs, but having an actual storefront where I could sell my knitted goods, maybe teach classes, create a community space for other crafters.”

The words tumbled out faster as she spoke, her excitement building despite her nervousness. “I know it’s ambitious, and I don’t have the capital yet, and I’d need to build up more inventory, but I keep thinking about it. Every time I finish a piece, I imagine it displayed in a shop window, or picture someone coming in to learn how to knit, or—” She stopped abruptly, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Don’t apologize,” Henry said firmly. “Nicole, that’s a wonderful dream. And from what I’m seeing here, it’s more than achievable. You have the skill, you clearly have the passion, and Fir Tree Grove loves supporting local artisans. We have a chocolate shop that the owner started out of her kitchen. This is the kind of place where that kind of dream is a reality.”

He set down the shawl carefully and leaned forward, his expression earnest. “There’s always space for new beginnings. I—” Henry paused, the firelight flickering off of his face, and Nicole saw him struggling for the right words. “I haven’t felt that since Daisy’s passing,” he said finally. “But I’m starting to believe it again.”

The mention of his late wife caught Nicole off guard. But there was no sadness in Henry’s voice, only a quiet acceptance and, she thought… a note of hope. Nicole found herself setting down her own mug and moving to sit on the ottoman closer to Henry’s chair.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked softly.

“Of course.” Henry smiled at her, the expression a bit more watery than it had been a moment ago.

“When I came to Fir Tree Grove, I was running away,” Nicole admitted. “My husband had asked for a divorce after we’d been separated for a while, I’d lost my job, and I felt like my entire life had fallen apart. It felt like the end of the world. I came here thinking I’d just hide out for a while, lick my wounds, figure out what to do next. I thought I might want to stay, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high. But after spending just a few days here…”

She gestured around the cozy room, toward the window where Fir Tree Grove glittered with Christmas lights. “It’s exceeded every hope I had. I was so worried about finding a job and feeling like I fit in here, but I already love it. And so much is still up in the air, but…” Nicole drew in a breath. “I’ve been really happy, lately. Happier than I have been in a long time.”

Henry was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was warm. “I’m glad to hear that. Because I have to tell you, Nicole, my hopes for hiring an assistant have also been wildly exceeded. You’ve brought something to my day to day that I didn’t even know was missing. Your enthusiasm, your creativity, your willingness to learn—even when it involves getting tangled in Christmas lights five times in one day.”

Nicole laughed, but the sound caught in her throat when she saw the way Henry was looking at her. There was something in his expression that made her breath hitch, something tender and inviting that shifted the mood into a direction that she had, she realized, unconsciously been hoping that it would.

Henry leaned in, shifting in his chair, and Nicole’s breath hitched as his lips neared hers. She breathed in that salty and woodsy scent, and saw the firelight flickering in his eyes in the moment before he kissed her for the first time.

It was gentle and tentative and perfect. His fingers brushed her cheek, and she felt as if she were melting. She hadn’t been kissed like this in so long, and this, with Henry… it felt perfect. Natural. As right as being here in this small town felt.

Henry pulled back, his cheeks flushed. “I—I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have done that,” he said quickly. “You—you haven’t even said for sure if you’re going to stay in Fir Tree Grove. I hope I haven’t moved too quickly.”

Nicole’s mind was spinning. She hadn’t decided about staying, that was true. She’d been taking things day by day, week by week, not wanting to decide on anything until she felt mor sure of her place here. But with her lips still tingling from Henry’s kiss, she felt the weight of that indecision pressing down on her.

“It’s not too much that you kissed me,” she said carefully, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was hoping you would, actually.”

She saw relief flash across Henry’s face, followed quickly by confusion when she continued.

“But I am having trouble piecing together exactly how I feel,” she admitted. “About everything. About staying, about what this could be, about what I want my future to look like. It’s all tangled up together, and I don’t want to make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

Henry’s hand was still cradling her cheek, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he smiled—a soft, understanding smile that made Nicole’s heart ache.

“That’s all right,” he said gently. “You don’t have to know right now. We can take this as slowly as you need. I’m not going anywhere, Nicole. When you’re ready to figure out how you feel, I’ll be here.”

Nicole felt tears prick at her eyes, although she couldn’t have said whether they were from relief or confusion. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Henry’s chest, and his arms came around her in a warm, secure embrace.

The fire crackled in the hearth, and somewhere upstairs, a door opened and closed. The world continued on around them, but in that moment, in the warm crackle of firelight and the glow of Christmas lights, Nicole let herself simply be held.

She didn’t have all the answers yet. She didn’t know if she would stay in Fir Tree Grove, didn’t know if she was ready to risk her heart again, and she didn’t know if her dream of opening a shop would ever become reality.

But for the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she didn’t need to have all the answers right now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Mabel pushed her shopping cart slowly down the aisle of Holly and Ivy Market, barely seeing the shelves of artisanal jams and locally made honey that lined the walls. She’d been wandering the store for nearly twenty minutes now, picking up items and putting them back down without any real purpose. Her list sat crumpled in her coat pocket, forgotten. She was avoiding George, and she knew it.

It had been two days since she’d fled from Hearthside Cottage, and Eda Leopold with her imported Viennese cookies and her perfect hair. Two days since she’d made a complete fool of herself by running away instead of staying to talk things through like a mature adult.

George had called her three times since then. She’d let every call go to voicemail, listening to his concerned messages but unable to bring herself to call him back. What would she even say? That she was jealous of a wealthy widow, even though George didn’t appear to be actually encouraging Eda’s flirtations? That she’d once again let her insecurities get the better of her? That she was ashamed of how she’d acted but still couldn’t quite shake the image of Eda standing there in her cashmere sweater and pearls with expensive cookies and coffee while Mable had brought homemade gingerbread while wearing a sweater from a local boutique?

Mabel turned the corner toward the kitchenware section, thinking vaguely that she should probably pick up some new dish towels. The ones she had at home were starting to look threadbare, and⁠—

She stopped short, her hand freezing on the cart handle.