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His obvious affection for the town and its people struck a chord within her. Here there was the sense of belonging and being a part of something that cared for you as much as you cared for it. She was a stranger—an outsider—but she didn’t feel that way.
She took in Jackson’s relaxed posture, the satisfied smile on his face, the ease in his demeanor. He was someone firmly grounded in his environment, someone who appreciated the importance of social ties and togetherness, and it was clear that he was a valued part of this town.
The sound of a vehicle crawling through the snow reached them. Jackson rose, a quick “excuse me” tossed over his shoulder as he grabbed his jacket from the hook and headed outside.
For the longest time, she had been adrift, lost in a sea of unfamiliar faces and unfulfilling surroundings. She had been searching for something real, substantial, and meaningful. Watching Jackson stride out to greet their visitors, a crazy thought occurred to her—maybe, just maybe, she had found it.
She moved to the window, her fingers tracing the frosty pattern on the glass as the plow maneuvered its way up their driveway.
At this moment, she was struck by a profound realization. She was not an observer here, not a transient character passing through. She was becoming a part of this wonderfully welcoming town.
An overwhelming sense of happiness covered her, flooding her heart with joy. She was indebted to Bea for guiding her to this place, appreciative of Jackson for his unwavering kindness, and thankful for the warm embrace of Aspen Cove, which had welcomed her with open arms.
The truck made its way down the drive, clearing the path and ensuring that life in this corner of the world continued, unfettered by the snow. She made a silent promise to herself and this town. She would become a part of this place, contribute to its charm and be there for others as they were there for her.
She hurried into her room to dress and returned to the living room just as Jackson ushered Cannon and Sage inside.
“Amanda, this is Cannon and his wife, Sage,” Jackson introduced, a hint of satisfaction in his voice as if showing off his friends. Amanda greeted them warmly, especially Sage. After all, she had heard a little about Sage from Katie, her curiosity piqued by the woman who had made such a significant journey in life.
The conversation flowed easily, with the introductions out of the way and cups of hot coffee warming their hands. Amanda found herself drawn to Sage. And so, she found herself asking, “Sage, I heard from Katie that you used to be Bea’s palliative care nurse. What made you decide to come to Aspen Cove?”
Sage looked surprised. Her face softened into a reminiscent smile. “Bea,” she said, her voice warm with affection for the woman they all held dear. “She had this knack for understanding people, for seeing what they needed even when they didn’t realize it themselves.”
Amanda listened as Sage unraveled her tale. She shared about her time in Denver, about the soul-draining routine she was stuck in, and the unhappiness that had clung to her like a second skin. She talked about Bea and the pink envelope that had been her ticket to a new life.
“She left me the envelope and asked my supervisor to fire me,” Sage said, chuckling at the memory. “I remember being shocked and hurt. But when I read her letter, it all made sense. She knew I wasn’t happy and wanted me to find a place where I could be.”
The transformation of Sage’s life after moving to Aspen Cove was nothing short of extraordinary. She spoke of her work as a nurse with Doc Parker, a job she loved and appreciated. She talked about her marriage, her child, and the happiness that filled her life. Her story was a tribute to the power of taking chances and the magic of Aspen Cove.
Amanda found herself hanging onto every word, her heart swelling with the realization that Aspen Cove was not a place but a beacon for people searching for happiness, belonging, and peace. She looked around the room at the kind faces staring back, and a profound sense of contentment filled her.
When Amanda shared her sense of mirrored experiences, Sage let out a hearty laugh that echoed through the cabin, causing Catsby to look up from his slumber by the fire, his feline eyes curious.
“Amanda,” Sage said, her laughter dying down, “I wouldn’t exactly call our beginnings here similar.”
Confused, Amanda tilted her head, inviting Sage to explain further. Sensing Amanda’s curiosity, Sage leaned back in her chair, her gaze losing focus as she appeared to journey back to her arrival in Aspen Cove.
“You see,” she started, “the day I showed up in Aspen Cove wasn’t quite a warm, welcome-to-your-new-life moment. It was more of a black eye and confusion kind of day.”
Amanda’s eyebrows knitted together at that. “Black eye?” she echoed, her surprise evident.
Sage nodded, a rueful smile curving her lips. “I thought Cannon was hurting his father, Ben. I didn’t know the full story and that it was the other way around. Ben was drunk, a mess really, and I ... well, I got in the way.”
It took a moment for Amanda to process this. So far, the town seemed such an idyllic place. It was hard for her to imagine such a scene. Yet, Sage’s story highlighted the raw, unfiltered truth that not every story was as serene as it appeared on the surface.
“But now,” Sage continued, her voice soft but firm, “Ben’s sober. He’s turned his life around and married Maisey. He’s a pillar of the community. All thanks to this town. It has a way of nurturing you, pulling you back from the brink, and guiding you toward the better part of yourself.”
Silence settled in the room as Amanda absorbed Sage’s words. She looked out the window. It was hard to imagine that real lives with real problems existed behind the pretty facade.
As Sage's words sank in, Amanda was struck by an undeniable sense of respect and awe for the town.
Here was a place that didn’t turn a blind eye to its troubled individuals but stepped up to guide them toward a better path. It was not about the picturesque landscape or the charming Christmas decor. It was about the people, their resilience, their capacity to help and heal, that truly made it wonderful—or maybe that was her writer’s brain turning something that wasn’t idyllic into something that was.
Cannon and Sage took their leave. And while Jackson insisted on shoveling the walkway, she resumed her day, a new sense of inspiration taking root. The stories of Aspen Cove, stories with characters like Cannon, Sage, and Ben, needed to be told. She opened a new document on her laptop. Amanda started to write, her fingers skipping over the keys, ready to bring new stories to life.
Jackson stepped in, snowflakes dusting his hair and shoulders. His cheeks were rosy from the chill, eyes glinting with an intensity that deepened Amanda’s appreciation for him. “Got the walkway cleared,” he announced, dusting off his jacket. His voice was a soothing echo in the room, harmonizing with the fireplace’s whispers.
She closed her laptop. “That’s great, Jackson.”
