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The confession hung in the cool night air, brave, honest, and certain. Ben let out a hot breath that rose like a white plume in the starlight. He reached up with his free hand, his palm tenderly cupping Maggie’s jawline. His touch was so warm that she wanted to sink into it.

“You’re already in my heart,” Ben admitted in a rasp. “You don’t ever have to run away if you feel like I’m rushing you, okay? Just talk to me. Lean on me. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Maggie offered a radiant smile in the starlight, her hand resting over his on her cheek. Without waiting or holding back, she pressed up on her tiptoes and crushed her lips to his.

The kiss was all warmth and rightness. She pressed up close to his chest, her gloved hand gripping his collar as his arm wrapped comfortably around her waist, holding her securely and guarding her from the cold ocean breeze.

When Maggie finally pulled back a few inches, she could feel the giddy smile stretching her cheeks. Ben looked down at her with a matching expression that lit up his entire face, his thumb gently brushing her cheekbone with tender care.

“I think we ought to get our lanterns lit before the caroling group reaches the barn,” Ben murmured, his voice full of happiness. “Wouldn’t want them sending out a search and rescue crew.”

Maggie let out a joyous laugh, her hand sliding down to clasp his fingers tightly. “I think that’s a very wise idea.”

Ben rustled around in his coat pocket and pulled out a small lighter. “One must always come prepared when entering a battle between coastal winds and miniature candles.” He lit Maggie’s tea light first and fixed the paper lantern frame into place before doing the same for his own.

The renewed pale yellow glow cast enough light across the snowy boardwalk for them to continue forward with ease. They moved along together, their hands joined tightly between them. Up ahead, the restored barn shone with dozens of warm window lights, and the melodic sound of acoustic guitar chords floated across the snow to welcome them in.

BEN

The Monday evening sky over Cranberry Cove turned a deep, velvety indigo. Inside the Foster house, the cozy air was filled with the savory aroma of braised beef, sweet carrots, and simmering bay leaves.

Ben stood near the butcher block counter wearing his blue wool sweater, holding long metal tongs as he checked the pot roast in the cast iron Dutch oven. Across the kitchen, Maggie stood by the sink in a light blue cardigan and flowy skirt, slicing fresh sourdough bread onto a round wooden cutting board. The entire home was peaceful, filled with the comfortable rhythm they’d established over the past week.

The sudden sound of car tires crunching over the frozen driveway cut through the house. Headlights flashed brightly across the multi-paned kitchen window, sweeping over the counter before the engine cut out completely.

Ben set the tongs down on a porcelain trivet, his brows pulling together in mild confusion. He wasn’t expecting any deliveries, and the woodshop had closed two hours ago. Before he could head toward the hallway, the front door swung open with a quick, easy click of the brass latch, sending a cool gust of snowy air inside.

Theo, who had been sitting at the kitchen table drawing with colored pencils, leaped up from his chair. “Someone’s here!” he shouted, his small bare feet thudding across the pine floorboards toward the front hall.

A lively, cheerful voice echoed down the corridor, accompanied by the thud of a duffel bag hitting the ground. “Is anybody home in this winter palace, or did everyone freeze solid?”

Theo let out a loud, ecstatic yell that echoed off the high ceiling. “You’re back! You’re back early!”

Ben stood motionless by the butcher block for a brief second, his heart giving a sudden, sharp thud against his ribs. His daughter Laura wasn’t scheduled to return until Christmas Eve. Hearing her voice in the hallway brought a sudden rush of intense fatherly joy, instantly followed by a tight, protective knot in his chest.

He looked over at Maggie, who had paused near the sink with the bread knife in her hand. Her eyes held surprise, but her posture remained calm and graceful. Ben wiped his hands on a cotton dish towel, moving around the counter into the side hallway.

Laura stood in the center of the hall wearing a thick winter coat and matching scarf, her dark hair dusted with white snowflakes from the short walk up to the house. She had her arms wrapped tightly around Theo, swinging him around in a circle as the boy laughed with delight.

“My contract finished early because the night shift team returned,” Laura explained, her voice breathless and bright as she set her son down on his feet. She looked up, her eyes lighting with affection as she spotted her father. “I drove straight up the highway so I could surprise you both for dinner.”

“Mom, look at the living room!” Theo insisted, grabbing his mother’s sleeve with both hands and tugging her eagerly toward the wide archway. “You’ve got to see the tree! Grandpa finished the red bird and let me hang it up at the top!”

Laura laughed, letting her young son pull her through the archway into the living room. Ben followed them closely, his sweater feeling slightly too tight across his chest as anxiety stirred inside him. For the past year, Laura had returned home to a quiet, dim house, where her late mother’s memory hung over every empty room like a solemn, untouchable shroud. She had watched her father retreat into his woodshop, maintaining a solitary routine that left no room for change.

Now, the living room was completely transformed. The six-foot Fraser fir stood in the corner near the potbelly stove, its spiky branches glowing brilliantly with tiny lights. Dozens of carved pine stars hung from the boughs, and perched proudly on the highest branch near the top star sat the red cedar cardinal, its crimson coat shining against the lights.

Laura stopped near the braided rug, her eyes widening as she took in the vibrant, cheerful room. She looked at the lights and garlands around the windows, the metal reindeer beside the crackling fire, and finally up at the red bird perched on the top branch.

“And look at the mantel! We have green pine boughs and candles!” Theo announced proudly, pointing everywhere at once.

Laura reached out, her fingers lightly brushing one of the wooden stars hanging on a branch. “It looks incredible,” she murmured, her voice full of genuine wonder. “I haven’t seen this room look so bright for ages.”

Her eyes lingered on the red cedar cardinal. Ben had told her about his secret gift to her mother the year before, but she’d never asked about it again after she died. He knew she must have realized that it was the same bird.

A sudden, heavy pang of worry tightened in Ben’s throat. He loved his daughter deeply, but he wondered if seeing her late mother’s carving on the tree might hurt her, or make her feel that her father’s grief was simply gone, just like that. He would never be done grieving Ruth, even if it looked a little different as time went on.

Footsteps sounded near the doorway, and Maggie entered the living room holding a tray of rolls wrapped in a linen napkin. She offered a warm, polite smile, her posture strong and respectful.