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Despite all of her reservations, it was good to be back.
Aiden rubbed his gloved hand over his face, trying not to look too closely in the direction of the floodlights that had been set up so that the work on the roof could continue past nightfall. He, Joe Woodham, his close friend Blake Monroe, Avery Smith, Colin Bailey, and a few of the other guys around town who were handy had all stayed long past when they’d normally be done working to try and get more progress on the event center’s roof. It wasn’t the safest idea, being up on the rafters with the cold and damp in the dark, but the floodlights offered enough of a glow that they could manage it.
With the festival coming up, they were all feeling the time crunch. He wanted to keep things moving, to not let everyone down. He knew Bethany would try to find another space to host it if she had to, but he didn’t want to see the look on her face when that news was delivered, when the festival had to be changed for the first time in who knows how many years. Tradition was what kept the town going, a part of their closeness, the sense of family that made living in Evergreen Hollow such a special experience. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that nothing affected that.
“We should probably pack it in soon.” Avery set down a hammer, leaning back on his heels as he looked at the shingles. “I know my wife is going to have dinner waiting, and I’m getting hungry. Temperature is dropping too.”
“We’ve made good progress.” Joe glanced over at Aiden. “I think we can pick up bright and early in the morning. As long as the weather holds and there isn’t another big storm, we should have it all fixed by the time the festival happens.”
“Someone tell the weatherman to predict sunshiny skies,” Colin joked, climbing carefully down the ladder. The heavy sound of his boots crunching through the snow echoed in the quiet night as he went to toss his tools back into the box. “It’d be rare for a storm like that to happen twice in as many weeks. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
“Certainly hope not.” Blake looked over at Aiden. “Want to grab a beer at the grill or something?”
“Normally I’d say yes, but I think I’m going to call it a night. I want to be up early tomorrow to get started.” Aiden headed for the ladder, careful of any icy spots. “Give you a raincheck on that.”
“Sure thing.” Blake followed him down, the guys all packing up and setting the tools and materials safely inside the entry of the event center before breaking off, heading to their respective vehicles.
Aiden hung back for a moment as the sound of starting engines filled the crisp air, one hand on the hood of his truck as he surveyed the progress they’d made so far. It filled him with a sense of satisfaction, seeing it come along so well. It always made him feel warm and at home, when everyone came together like this to see things fixed. There wasn’t any better feeling that he could imagine.
He hoisted his toolbox, setting it in the back of the truck before sliding into the driver’s side and turning the engine on, letting it warm up for a minute. The floodlights had all been turned off, leaving the building a dark silhouette in the crisp snow, the glow of the moon faintly illuminating it. His back hurt and his hands had a few new callouses from the long hours he’dbeen pulling, but it would be all worth it when the festival went off without a hitch.
Aiden drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove back to his house, humming along with the Christmas carols on the radio. He turned past The Mistletoe Inn, glancing over at it—the cheery decorations were always a pleasure to look at—and did a double-take when he thought he saw someone familiar sitting on the front porch, along with Rhonda and Donovan Stoker.
It can’t be.He could have sworn he caught a glimpse of Nora Stoker, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, wrapped up in a cream-colored wool peacoat. His heart skipped a little in his chest at the thought, and he slowed down a little without thinking, but he couldn’t fully make her out. He didn’t want to stop driving altogether and get caught staring, and it was impossible to see for sure.
It was equally impossible to get her out of his head, once the thought of her entered it.
Oh, wow, if it really is Nora…
He hadn’t seen her in years. They’d gone to high school together, like every other teenager growing up in Evergreen Hollow, but she’d never so much as glanced his way in all those years. On the rare occasion that he had overheard some conversation she was a part of, it was always abundantly clear that she couldn’t wait to leave town. He’d seen her back once since he’d heard she had up and moved to Boston after college, but that had been… what, eleven or twelve years ago?
A long time for someone to be gone, and then suddenly pop back up again.
Surely it wasn’t her.
Aiden turned into his driveway, the trip having gone by in a hurry while he was lost in thought. It had to have been one of the inn’s guests. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone so sleekand polished to be staying at The Mistletoe Inn. Plenty of people from Boston and New York came to enjoy the rustic charm of Evergreen Hollow, especially around the holidays.
He tried to shake off the little bubble of excitement that rose in his chest at the thought of it being Nora, kicking the snow off his boots as he opened his front door.
But a small part of him couldn’t help thinking that if there was a chance that Nora Stoker had decided to come home for the holidays…
Well, wouldn’t that be something.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nora hadn’t set an alarm the night before, against all of her instincts, telling herself that she was on vacation. She woke up at eight-thirty, a full hour and a half later than she usually woke on a Thursday morning, and she told herself that was a small victory.
The sight of the cozy bedroom that she was staying in, first thing in the morning, was so quaint and beautiful that she couldn’t help but smile in spite of herself. The bed was a birch four-poster, with soft cream-colored sheets and a buffalo-plaid duvet, made up with four soft pillows and a dark green throw blanket at the end of it. The nightstand and dresser matched, a juniper-scented candle next to the bed, and a wing chair with another green wool throw and a buffalo-plaid pillow next to the large window. The floor was dark, well-cared-for wood, with a sheepskin rug next to the bed, and it all felt so warm and comforting that Nora didn’t even miss her apartment at home for a moment.
She’d decorated that to her tastes, made it into a haven, but this reminded her of something else. A feeling of family, of nostalgia, that she thought she could indulge for just a little while.
Then she looked down at her phone, picking it up to see if Rob had called or left her any messages, and her spirits sank again when she saw there was nothing.
He hadn’t so much as checked in to ask her what her plans for the holidays were now, if she was staying in Boston, if she was okay. She’d nearly called or texted him a dozen times since he’d ended their engagement, stopping herself every time, but there hadn’t been so much as a single message from him. So far as she knew, he didn’t even know she’d gone back to Evergreen Hollow for Christmas.
Nora let out a sharp breath, dropping her phone back onto the nightstand and throwing back the covers. She slipped her feet into the fluffy slippers that had been waiting by the bed for her when she came up the night before, trudging to the attached bathroom in her pajamas. The bathroom was equally small and cozy—a standalone shower in one corner with a clawfoot tub below a small window, and a black granite countertop with rustic wooden cabinets below it. There was a porcelain bowl sink and an oval mirror above it, a guest basket filled with soaps and bath oils and lotion set neatly on the countertop next to a wooden shelf with folded towels and washcloths, all in dark green.
Nora rifled through the basket, taking out a bottle of eggnog-scented shower gel. She’d brought her own shampoo and conditioner from home, but she thought she should try to use at least some of the products that her mother went to so much effort to put out, just in the spirit of being home.
