Page 19

“Oh, absolutely,” Nicole said with a laugh. “Word travels fast in a small town. We’ve definitely heard about the journalist from out of town, staying at the Hearthside bed and breakfast and writing about our Christmas traditions.” She grinned. “It’s impossible to avoid here.”

Layla felt her cheeks warm slightly. “I didn’t realize I was making such an impression.”

“Everything makes an impression here,” Nicole said cheerfully. “It’s part of the charm. Or the curse, depending on your perspective and what you’re trying to keep private.” She picked up a deep burgundy scarf, running her fingers along the stitches. “So, what do you think of our little town so far?”

“It’s very…” Layla searched for the right word, one that was honest but not insulting. “Festive. Everyone seems very invested in the Christmas spirit.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Nicole said with a knowing smile. “Let me guess—it’s all a bit much for you?”

Layla hesitated, then figured there was no point in being anything but honest. “I’m more used to the city. This level of… enthusiasm for the holidays is pretty different from what I’m used to.”

Nicole nodded. “I can understand that.”

Layla found herself genuinely curious despite her intention to just get a few photos and move on. “Have you lived here your whole life?”

Nicole laughed. “Absolutely not. I came here last year because I needed a fresh start. My marriage ended—we’d been separated for a while, but he made a decision and of course, it came right before the holidays. And then, like the universe decided I hadn’t had enough upheaval, I got replaced at my job. Corporate mergers, the usual type of thing, but I’d worked there for so long I’d thought I was indispensable. Apparently not.”

“That’s awful,” Layla said, and she meant it. She’d seen that before, and she knew how devastating it could be.

“It was,” Nicole agreed. “On top of that, my daughter was doing a foreign exchange program and had decided not to fly home for Christmas. She’d met someone and wanted to meet his family. So I decided it was time to throw caution to the wind and try something completely different.” She laughed. “I put my house up for sale, rented a room for a month at Hearthside, and decided to try out small-town living.”

“And you decided to stay?” Layla asked. She tried to imagine making that choice herself and came up completely blank.

“Not right away,” Nicole said. “I definitely considered the possibility that I wouldn’t like it here, or that it wouldn’t work out. I gave myself that month to decide. But then I saw an advertisement that Henry Cline—he’s the town’s electrician and also kind of famous around here for his Christmas light installations—was looking for help. I figured, why not? I needed a job, and I thought he just needed an office assistant.”

She smiled wryly. “Turned out, he needed someone to help with the actual installations. So I got a crash course in wiring and how to make a house look like a winter wonderland without blowing every fuse in the place. And it wasn’t long before I realized that I was falling for him.” She gave a soft, wistful smile. “I fell in love with Henry and with this town. He was patient with me too, didn’t rush me into anything. And I’ve never been happier. This town really was a miracle for me.”

Layla nodded, smiling. It was a cute story, she had to admit, but she also couldn’t help but think how typical it was for this kind of town, a desperate move from a bigger city to a small town that ended with a romance tied in a neat Christmas-light bow, complete with hand-knitted scarves. An outsider who had their whole life transformed by Fir Tree Grove. She didn’t want to hurt Nicole’s feelings, though, so she stifled an eye roll.

It would make good material for the article, certainly. Kirkland would love it.

“That’s a wonderful story,” Layla said, and she did mostly mean it, even if she couldn’t imagine it applying to her own life. “Would you mind if I took a few photos of your booth? Maybe quoted you in the article?”

“Of course!” Nicole said enthusiastically. “Let me just straighten a few things.” She began arranging the scarves more artfully, fluffing the blankets and making sure the colors were displayed to their best advantage.

Layla stepped back and started taking pictures, capturing the booth from different angles, as well as the handmade sign with Nicole’s business name and Nicole herself standing proud among her creations. It was exactly the kind of thing that would convey the artisanal vibe that the article needed.

“These are really beautiful,” Layla said as she reviewed the photos. “How long have you been knitting?”

“Since my twenties, honestly, as lame as that probably sounds,” Nicole said with a laugh. “My grandmother taught me. It’s a nice way to keep her memory alive, and it’s therapeutic, actually. I love creating beautiful, tangible, useful things. I always had a dream of opening up my own shop, but it didn’t feel like it could be a reality until I moved here. That’s another thing about small towns. When you’re part of the community, people want to see you succeed.”

She reached for a sage green scarf folded neatly at the top of the pile in front of her and held it out to Layla. “Here. Take this. This color will suit you.”

Layla blinked. “Oh, I couldn’t—I was actually just about to ask how much you charge⁠—”

“Consider it a welcome gift,” Nicole said firmly, pressing the scarf into Layla’s hands. “From the town as a whole. We might be a bit much with our Christmas enthusiasm, but we do mean well.”

The scarf was incredibly soft, made of high-quality wool and beautifully knitted. It was also clearly worth a decent amount of money, far too much to just give away to a stranger who was only in town for a few days.

“That’s really sweet of you,” Layla said, “but I’m not staying long. I’ll be heading back to Portland in a few days, and honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever return. This kind of place isn’t really…” She trailed off, not wanting to insult Nicole after she’d been so generous.

Nicole gave her a sly smile. “You shouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“About what? Not coming back?” Layla’s mouth turned down, confused.

“About any of it,” Nicole said. “About how long you’ll stay, about whether you’ll return, about this place not being for you.” She gestured around them again at the snow-covered square and the twinkling lights, the mountains looming in the distance. “There are a lot of people in this town who never imagined they’d stay here forever or call it home. Vanessa Hayes is one. Lincoln Blackwell came back after leaving and I’m sure he’ll be here forever. It’s the kind of place that makes you feel like starting over.”

Nicole stepped around the table and reached out, gently arranging the scarf around Layla’s neck. “There’s just something irresistible about this place. Maybe it’s the pace of life, that people here have time to actually connect with each other instead of rushing past on their way to the next thing.” She stepped back with a smile. “Or maybe it’s just the Christmas lights. Henry would tell you never to underestimate the power of good lighting.”