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“It’s good to see you, too, Hill. I can’t believe you’re here.”

She holds me at arm’s length. “Friends don’t let friends go through a divorce alone.”

I’m about to tell her I’m okay, but she beats me to it.

“And don’t even try to insist I didn’t have to come out here because you’re doing fine. I know you are. You’re a tough bitch. Like me.” She playfully nudges me. “But I’m here for…whatever you need. The name of a fantastic divorce attorney. The best vibrator. Someone to help you get rid of a dead body. You name it. I’m your girl.”

This is the reason Hilde has been my ride-or-die since the moment I met her.

Yes, she can walk into a small town where everyone looks like they stepped out of a lumberjack catalog and complain there’s no valet parking or caviar.

But she’ll also drop everything to be there for the people she cares about, even if they don’t think they need it.

“Thank you,” I say with a sigh, wrapping my arms around her. “It means a lot that you came all this way.”

“I’ve got your back, girlfriend.” She squeezes me one last time, then releases me. “Now, since I have to be back in Houston by Thursday morning, I need you to give me the full small-town Christmas experience in the next forty-eight hours.” She loops an arm through mine, pulling me down the sidewalk with her. “I’m talking cookie decorating, gingerbread-house making, cheesy sleigh ride fun.” She sucks in a breath, spinning toward me. “Maybe even one of those adorable little Christmas markets where they sell handmade ornaments nobody needs but everyone buys anyway.”

I can’t help but laugh at the excitement in her expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this enthusiastic about anything.

“This town definitely has all of that,” I assure her. “But what do you say to some greasy diner food first?” I gesture across the street at the diner that’s been in the same location since before my parents were born. “You can’t come here and not try one of Mabel’s world-famous pies.”

Hilde stops and stares at the building for several long moments.

A part of me expects her to wrinkle her nose. It’s a far cry from the bottomless mimosa brunches we usually go to at the Four Seasons.

Then she squeals with delight. “This is absolutely perfect. Come on. Help me pop my small-town cherry.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WYNTER

Hilde wasn’t lying when she said she wanted the full small-town Christmas experience. I thought she’d get bored after a few hours. Decide she’d prefer to spend some time in Tahoe.

She never did.

We started at Mabel’s Place, where she ordered enough food for three people and declared the banana cream pie to be a “religious experience.” From there, we wandered through the shops on Main Street. Then we made our way to the tree farm, where she flirted shamelessly with Theo McKinley while he chopped down a tree for a local family.

I can’t blame her. Theo is really attractive. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. An easygoing smile that makes it impossible not to smile in return.

Like Joshua.

With Hilde in town, I’ve successfully avoided thinking about him most of the day.

But I have a feeling that’s about to end.

Hilde specifically asked for a small-town Christmas market. Considering she came all the way out here to support me, the least I can do is put my embarrassment aside about running into Joshua and take her to Holley Ridge.

Besides, there’s a chance Joshua won’t even be here. His truck was still in his driveway when I left my parents’ house earlier this morning. That doesn’t mean he won’t be here now, but I still let that thought comfort me as Hilde and I walk from the overflow parking lot and up toward Holley Ridge.

The moment we step onto the festival grounds, Hilde stops short, her eyes going wide and her jaw dropping.

I feel a little of the same awe as I look around the property. I stopped by last week but didn’t have a chance to enjoy it. I was still coming to terms with my marriage ending.

Now that I have, I can finally appreciate the beauty of Holley Ridge.

Strands upon strands of tiny white lights wrap around the massive oak trees, their reflections shimmering across the dark surface of the lake. Evergreen garlands wind around wooden fences, and enormous red bows hang from nearly every lamppost. A horse-drawn carriage rolls along the lakeside trail, bells jingling from the harness. The air smells like pine, sugar, and woodsmoke, as if someone’s roasting marshmallows for s’mores. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Hilde’s voice rings out.