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Over the years, she had gotten used to the media picking apart her appearance, but the vitriol with which they came at her as she approached and then turned thirty had been something else entirely. And when the desirable roles had ultimately dried up, leaving behind only the ones like ‘Frumpy Mom in a Teenage Sitcom,’ Valerie had allowed herself to panic.
She had locked herself in her Beverly Hills home and drunk more bottles of wine from her coveted collection than she cared to admit while watching old Marilyn Monroe films. Valerie had ordered takeout for every meal and had worn a particularly nostalgic pair of sweats for three days straight before she finally convinced herself to take a shower.
It was right after that particular shower, with her hair still sopping wet but wearing a new pair of soft—and more importantly, clean—sweatpants that she had seen it. It was on the back of a magazine, one that had fallen face down on her coffee table after she had gotten frustrated while reading yet another gossip column asking ‘What’s Going on With Valerie Bernard?.”
THE EAST COAST’S BEST KEPT SECRET, the ad read in bold blue letters at the top of the page. The words were superimposed over the image of a woman and a man smiling lovingly at a child who was attempting to ski down a bunny hill. A mountain range loomed in the distance, snow-capped peaks glistening in the sun. And at the bottom of the page, a familiar name was scrawled in the same blue font. SNOWY PINE RIDGE.
The name had jostled something in her memory, something about a place that her mother had gone to years and years ago, before Valerie had even been born. But the place had had such a profound impact on Valerie’s mother that decades later, she had still referred to it as being filled with magic.
And right now, Valerie could use some of that magic.
Plus, since she very publicly disliked skiing—or any outdoor activity, really—she knew that absolutely no one would ever think to look for her in a town like that. Which made Snowy Pine Ridge an absolutely perfect destination for her to run away to so that she could clear her head.
Something bumped against Valerie’s leg, ripping her focus away from her past and planting her firmly back in the present. She glanced over at the sweaty man who was sitting in the middle seat, his legs splayed much farther apart than they needed to be, and then at the woman who sat on the other side of him.
She and the woman locked eyes, then both of them shook their heads as they settled back into their seats, neither of them thinking it was worth the fight.
The plane began to rumble, and the voice of the pilot sounded over the speakers as a flight attendant appeared at the very front of the plane. The safety instructions began as the vessel started to move across the tarmac, and Valerie took that as her cue to extract her neck pillow and sleeping mask from the large purse on the floor between her feet.
With the pillow and the mask firmly in place, she ignored her overbearing seat mate and decided to focus on the positives. Soon she would be on the opposite side of the country, in a town covered in snow and, if her mother had been right, filled with magic. She would be spending the holidays in a place where she could relax. Where she could hopefully find herself again—or at the very least, get a bit of clarity.
Snowy Pine Ridge, here I come, she thought.
CHAPTERTWO
Fat, fluffy flecks of snow flitted by the window as Clark Mitchell flipped the page on the inventory magazine he’d been perusing. The hardware store was silent, not a single soul inside the place except for him, and when he glanced at the clock he knew why. It was nearly six o’clock in the evening, only about an hour before it would be time to close.
A winter storm had also blown through Snowy Pine Ridge two days before, and it had been a real doozy. The roads had only just become drivable early that afternoon, with the plows working overtime for two days straight just to keep up with the amount of snow that had continued to fall.
Thankfully, it had begun to slow down a bit recently, and the snowflakes that currently fell from the sky were sporadic. It wasn’t anything that would accumulate further.
Just as Clark was thinking he might close up the shop early, since no one was likely to venture into the store at this hour, a figure materialized in the small pool of light outside cast by the windows and the fluorescents of Mitchell’s Hardware.
Clark squinted as the figure approached. Whoever it was, they were entirely concealed in a dark coat with the hood pulled up around their face. It wasn’t until the person pulled open the door, stepped inside, and began to speak that Clark recognized the man as his friend, Derek Morse.
“I know you’re likely getting ready to close up shop,” Derek said. “But is it alright if I come in for a few things?”
“Of course,” Clark answered, watching as Derek kicked the snow from his boots and pushed down his hood. “We’ve still got another hour before I officially close. So take your time.”
Derek nodded, uncharacteristically quiet as he walked farther into the store. As he got closer, Clark was able to get a better look at his friend, and he couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under Derek’s eyes and the exhaustion that seemed to hunch his shoulders.
“Everything going alright?” Clark asked as Derek grabbed a shopping basket and began walking through the well-stocked shelves.
Derek ran a gloved hand through his auburn hair, causing it to become damp with snow. Clark thought for a moment to warn him to stop, that the damp hair would make him sick if he went outside with it like that. But then he realized that lecturing his friend like that would only serve to make him sound like his grandmother, and Derek would never let him hear the end of it.
“Yeah, things are fine. I’m just tired,” Derek answered as he disappeared from Clark’s line of sight. “Piper has a cold, and she hasn’t slept much since before the storm. Which means neither have Lacy or I.”
Piper was Derek and Lacy’s nearly one-year-old daughter. Despite being so small, generally sweet tempered, and absurdly adorable, the baby girl had a wild streak large enough to rival her father’s when he’d been growing up. So Clark could only imagine what the child was like when she wasn’t feeling well.
“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” Clark asked, his brow furrowing as he walked out from behind the counter toward where Derek was standing.
“I got some blackout curtains,” his friend explained as he eyed the shelves. “Maybe those will help her sleep. Do you have the stuff to hang something like that?”
Clark nodded and began leading Derek through the small store. Clark had grown up in Mitchell’s Hardware, and the shop had been passed down through generations of family members before being left in his care. He had made a few improvements over the years, expanding some of the inventory as the needs of the town had begun to change. But much of it remained the same as it had been on the day it had been founded by his great-great grandfather. And as such, he knew the store like the back of his hand.
It didn’t take him long to fill Derek’s basket with all of the supplies that he needed, his friend chatting his ear off about his baby and his wife all the while. Clark was glad to hear about them, since he’d become good friends with Lacy in the time since she’d moved to Snowy Pine Ridge as well.
But listening to Derek talk about his family also filled Clark with a strange pulling sensation deep within his belly—an untold yearning for something that everyone else seemed to have, but which he himself did not. A family of his own.
