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Looking out the windshield, she realized he was right. “As long as it’s not far. I just got warm, but I do love a pretty tree in December.”

Kian held up a finger, opened the center console, pulled out a packet, and tore it open. “This will help,” he promised, shaking the packet, then pointed at her hat. Joy nodded, and he tucked it into the brim near her forehead. “They say if you keep your head warm, the rest of you will be too.”

“Why do you think I’m wearing this hat instead of more fashionable ear warmers? I never thought to put a hand warmer inside it, though. Thank you for thinking of it and bringing them along.” Would it solve all her problems with being cold? No, but it would let her stay out longer before she had to call it quits.

When Kian smiled, it told her he was happy she’d acknowledged his extra effort. “You can’t put them on your feet because you probably can’t feel if they’re burning your skin, right?”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Joy asked, blinking several times as she tried to process the fact that Kian knew that information about CMT.

“Believe it or not, I do read, and one of the sites mentioned that you have to be careful with the temperature around your feet because you can’t judge heat and cold well.”

“I see,” Joy said slowly, begging her brain to come up with something. She was nearly stunned silent that he’d been reading about her disease. Yes, he’d told her last week he’d been googling, but she’d thought it was only about the AFOs.

“Technically, I know I can’t assume your subtype has the same symptoms, but I figured there was probably some truth to it because you wear the braces.”

“You’re not wrong to assume. The nerve damage is why I wear the braces. My feet always feel cold, so I have to pay close attention to how long I’m outside in the winter, because I can’t tell if they’re getting too cold. Since the AFOs aren’t designed to accommodate extra socks, I have to rely on boots. That’s why I’m wearing these today instead of dress shoes. I don’t think Mark noticed, though.”

“Girl, in Wisconsin, boots are considered dress shoes. Should we go?” Kian asked, a smile on his lips.

With a nod from her, he grabbed her crutches from the back, opened her door, and helped her out. As they started walking, Joy noticed how much snow had fallen. “Wow, I didn’t know it was supposed to snow this much.”

“Or this quickly,” Kian agreed. “I heard there might be some later tonight, but it’s barely seven. I’m glad I got us rooms for the night. That will give them time to clear the roads in the morning.”

“I checked with Marci, and she said it was coming down there too, so she was glad we were staying. She was thrilled to hear that the meeting went well,” Joy said, burrowing into her coat as the wind blew cold snow against her neck.

Kian leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad Marci has the mall in hand, but that’s enough business talk for tonight. Let’s enjoy a little holiday cheer before we plunge back into the real world.”

He was right, of course. Working retail during the holiday season meant the magic of Christmas was always overshadowed by sales forecasts and flyers. It was less about enjoying the magic of the season and more about creating it. It was nice to feel the snow on her cheeks and to hear Christmas carols playing throughout the park. They passed several couples, saying hello as they scooted by on the narrow trail. Once they rounded the bend, Joy gasped with pure delight. “Kian, it’s gorgeous,” she whispered as the tree came into view.

Lanterns lined the path as they walked toward the blue spruce, wearing its holiday finery. It was dressed head to toe in tiny white lights woven into the branches rather than draped, which showed Joy that someone cared enough to take the time to do it so precisely, especially since the tree was easily forty feet tall. Cranberries formed a red ribbon that spiraled up the tree, with fresh snow falling lazily onto it, reminding her of a candy cane from her childhood.

“I love the pinecones!” she exclaimed once she realized what the ornaments were. “They were made for the birds!”

“It’s my favorite part of the tree,” Kian agreed, putting his arm around her to keep her warm. “The local elementary kids spend a morning making peanut butter-and-birdseed pinecone ornaments for the tree.”

“How did you learn about this tree? Do you spend a lot of time in Middleburg?”

“A fair amount,” he said, nodding. “It was about five years ago that Sabrina and I were here to meet with a store owner at one of our other malls. We happened upon the tree lighting. They take such care with their decorating here to keep it natural and safe for the animals in the park.”

The name made Joy grimace, but she stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “Ahh, yes, the infamous Sabrina. Your mother mentioned her a time or two hundred.”

His snort was soft as he tightened his grip on her waist, as though that could erase Sabrina from her memory. Fat chance of that. She’d never met the woman, but she’d heard enough about her to last a lifetime. “I don’t think my mother was too fond of Sabrina.”

“Wow, that was the understatement of the year, right there. She told me that if you proposed to her, she would host an intervention,” Joy informed him, laughing at the memory.

“We broke up a year before Mom died. At least she didn’t die believing I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life.”

“She really did love you more than anything, Kian, even if she showed it the wrong way.”

“As an adult, I’ve learned that to be the truth,” he whispered. “She’d love this tree.”

“She’d love to see us standing here, getting along for the first time in our lives,” Joy added.

Turning, he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. “I want to believe she sees us standing here, believing in the magic of this season. Do you feel the magic, Joy?”

“For the first time in my life, I see beyond the pretty lights and fancy wrapping.”

“What do you see now?”