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“And by buckle up, you mean to expect the unexpected before it happens.”

“And then some,” Joy agreed. “But seriously, we will do this little dance tomorrow, and then you can’t demand any more of my time until after Christmas Eve. There isn’t enough time in my day as it is once December hits.”

He held his hands near his chest and nodded. “Understood, but I do want to help, so I hope you put me to work.” He lowered his hands and paused. “Why don’t you and Marci come over for Santa Supper on Friday night? Mom would want us to keep the tradition alive. I know Freya would love to make dinner for everyone to celebrate Santa’s arrival, as she’s done every year for at least a decade.”

Settling into Lorelei’s favorite chair, Joy noticed it still carried the scent of Lorelei’s perfume. She inhaled the gardenias. No one wore it the way Lorelei did. “I don’t know, Kian. That’s asking a lot of Freya right after Thanksgiving.” Santa Supper had become a tradition for her, Lorelei, and Marci on the Friday night before Santa’s arrival. Freya cooked what she imagined was ‘Santa’s’ favorite meal: roast beef with cranberry chutney, butter-whipped mashed potatoes and gravy, honey-glazed carrots and parsnips, and fresh yeast rolls. For dessert, Freya served hot cocoa and classic Christmas cookies. Joy’s stomach growled at the mere thought of Santa Dinner.

“Seriously? Did you just hear her? She wants to cook for you. If I called her on the intercom right now to tell her you’re coming for Santa Supper, she’d scream with glee and head straight back to the store. Think about it?”

“I’ll think about it,” Joy agreed instead of refusing outright. She would, eventually, but his eagerness made her hesitate to shoot him down just yet. She’d send a text. The snarky girl inside her snorted. “Why are we here?”

“Right,” he said, letting out a breath. “As I went through Mother’s estate wishes, she listed several items she’d like you to have.”

Joy inhaled deeply and shook her head, fighting back tears. “Don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“You don’t have to look at them here,” Kian said, walking to the dresser and taking down a box. “Take them home and go through them when you’re emotionally ready. There’s no time limit on grief, but I asked Freya to put it together a few months ago and keep it here until we reached the six-month mark. I thought it might be easier for you after a bit more time. Maybe you’ll never open it, but I can rest knowing my mother’s wishes were honored.”

When Joy saw the box, a tear slipped out despite her best efforts to hold it back. It was Lorelei’s bits and bobs box, and Lorelei always told her it held all her best and fondest treasures. Joy never knew what those treasures were, but she suspected she would find out if she opened it.

“Her bits and bobs box,” Joy said, swallowing through the pain in her chest. “Always wondered what she kept inside.”

Setting the box on the bed, Kian rested his hand on it. “I can tell you this box wasn’t around when I was a kid, so it’s something she got after I left home.”

Joy nodded, knowing she wouldn’t open the box here. Seeing Lorelei’s things again would make her cry harder than ever, and there was no way she’d be that vulnerable in front of the King.

“When you open it, remember that she had prepared her estate but had planned to live for many years. She had intended to update everything as we all grew older.”

“She never got the chance,” Joy whispered. “The estate work had just been completed less than a year before her death.”

“Makes me wonder if she sensed something was coming,” Kian said, lowering himself into a chair. “There’s one more thing for you. I just need a moment to build the courage to pick it up again.”

“Then don’t,” she said, motioning toward the box. “This is enough. There’s nothing else I need.”

Standing, Kian shook his head. “There’s one more thing you need now because we’re about to enter the season.”

Holding her breath, she waited as he turned his back on her and walked into the other room. She was afraid she knew what it was, and seeing it again would break her. When he returned with it, she turned to jelly. “No,” Joy said, almost on an exhale. “No. No. No.”

“More like HO-HO-HO,” Kian said, his eyes a bit damp with tears. “This was her one demand,” he said with a smile. “Not just in her estate wishes, but in life. I lost track of how many times she told me this coat was to go to you should she pass while it was still wearable.”

Kneeling, he held the breathtaking coat across his lap, the faux-fur hood resting on his arm. The long, burgundy coat was trimmed in rich golden-brown fur around the hood, cuffs, and hem. Embroidery along the front, sleeves, and bottom edge added old-world elegance, with floral motifs in muted gold and bronze. It was regal, yet it offered a storybook feel that Lorelei always said made the magic. It was as if it had stepped out of a fictional story about Mrs. Claus leaving the North Pole to grant a wish only she could.

With so much pent-up pain in her chest, Joy stroked the fur along the sleeves. “All I see is Lorelei. She was beautiful and protective, and, like this coat, impossible to forget. I can’t take this,” she whispered, shaking her head and wiping away her tears with her shoulder. “This is a family heirloom that should be saved for your children.”

“I don’t agree,” Kian said, hanging the coat on another chair and handing her a box of tissues. “If I ever have a family, they will never have known my mother. To them, it’s just a coat. To you, it’s my mother. That’s the difference. When you put it on, it brings back years of memories no one can take away. My mother wanted the coat to keep making memories for you and others, not to rot in a closet for years. Please, say you’ll take it.”

Nodding quickly, Joy swiped at her tears. She knew she couldn't speak without her voice breaking. All she could do was hope he saw the tears as a tribute to his mother. “I’ll take it,” she finally said, smiling softly, her gaze locked on it. “But I don’t know if I can wear it this year, Kian.” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, lowering it as tears dripped onto her jeans.

“Hey,” he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “You’ll wear it when you’re ready. Mom would understand.”

Part of her wanted to shrug him off, and another part wanted more. Joy lifted her head immediately, that weird thought flashing through her mind. She most certainly did not want more of Kian touching her. Right? Why was she like this? Shaking her head, she wiped away the tears, struggled to her feet, and propped the crutch handles under her palms. “I need to go.”

“Understood. Let me get the coat’s garment bag. I’ll carry everything out for you.”

Nodding, she pointed toward the door. “I’ll meet you at the car. I need some fresh air.”

As Joy turned and hurried toward the door as fast as her braces and crutches allowed, she couldn’t help but think about how hard it must be for Kian to be here, never able to escape the memory of the woman he loved. It had to be torture, and a little part of her heart broke for him. That surprised her, but grief did funny things, so she’d chalk it up to that and continue her mission to banish Kian Van Adler from Snowcap Ridge. Anything else was unacceptable.

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