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I consider this for a moment before answering. “Very well, I forgive you. But keep the details to yourself—I don’t want to know. I want to learn everything about Sarah the old-fashioned way.”
“As you wish—Your Highness.”
Nigel and I both eat breakfast—I’ve finally convinced him to eat with me instead of before me—before heading back to the ski hill for a few hours. When I’ve had enough skiing for the day, we head back to the chalet so that I can shower and change for tonight. After I’m cleaned up, I double check the text message that Sarah sent earlier to confirm that I have the details correct. I’m to meet up with her at her place at five-thirty so that we can walk to Main Street to go on the sleigh ride.
I pull up in front of her house at exactly five-thirty and knock on the door. When she answers, she’s dressed in a pair of jeans, her neon green ski jacket, and a fuzzy green hat with matching mittens. “Hey!” she says. “I hope you dressed warm.”
“Don’t worry—I made sure to put on extra layers,” I assure her.
“Perfect. Let’s go—we don’t want to be late.”
She locks her door, and we begin walking down the street. “So, how far is it exactly to where we’re going?” I ask.
“Not far. Only a couple of blocks.”
“Okay.” We walk in silence for a few minutes, taking in the snowy scene around us. Finally, after much debate about whether or not I should bring it up, I’m the first to speak. “About that kiss last night—I’m sorry if I was out of line,” I say.
She smiles up at me. “You weren’t. I wasn’t expecting it on our first date, but I liked it.”
“I liked it, too.” I smile as I consider my words. I’m not quite sure that ‘like’ is even the right word to describe how that kiss made me feel, and I want to discuss it with her more, but before I can continue the conversation, we arrive at Main Street. I guess it’s going to have to wait until later.
“Here we are,” Sarah says as she leads me towards a crowd of people gathered around a large horse-drawn sleigh filled with blankets.
Sarah introduces me to several people that she knows, and we’re both given a small booklet of Christmas carols. We climb up onto the sleigh with the rest of the carolers and find a place to sit. Once we’re both seated, I grab a blanket and drape it over our laps. “Thanks,” she says with a smile.
When everyone has found a seat, the driver lightly taps the reins, and the horses start moving. As we glide through the neighborhoods around town, we merrily sing the carols that are included in our booklets—some of the favorites such as Jingle Bells and Silent Night being sung multiple times. Snow is lightly falling as our voices echo through the streets, and families step outside of their homes with smiles on their faces to listen to us sing. The bells that the horses are wearing on their harnesses jingle with each step they take, adding a magical feel to the night.
Once we’ve visited all of the designated neighborhoods along the route, the sleigh returns to Main Street, and we all climb down to grab a cup of hot chocolate provided by the volunteers. “Thank you,” I say to them as I take two steaming cups from the table and hand one to Sarah.
She smiles and takes it gratefully. “Thanks. I love hot chocolate on a cold night.”
“Me too.”
We drink the hot liquid, letting it warm us, as we visit with the other carolers who have stuck around. Once we’ve finished our drinks and said our goodbyes, we start the walk back to Sarah’s house. “Thank you for inviting me to join you. That was a lot of fun,” I say.
“You’re welcome, Jeff. I had a great time, too.”
“Do you do that every year?”
“I try to, if I’m around. My friends and I have gone out of town for the holidays a couple of times.”
“Well, I’m glad that you didn’t go out of town this year.”
“Me too. If I had, I would never have met you.”
My heart beats faster at her comment, hopeful that it means that she has feelings for me like I do for her.
When we reach her house, I walk her to the door. She pauses for a moment, as if debating something with herself, before asking, “Would you like to come inside?”
I really shouldn’t since I’m not sure that I can keep my hands to myself, but before I can talk myself out of it, I hear myself saying, “Sure.”
We step inside, removing our outdoor gear in the entryway before walking into her cozy living room. “Make yourself at home,” she says, motioning to the couch. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she says as she joins me on the couch, fidgeting nervously.
I gently put my hand on her shoulder to still her. “Are you sure you’re okay, Sarah?”
