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Vanessa laughed, putting a pile of carrots into a bowl to be added to the soup. Around them, the diner hummed with activity. Jackson had been hurrying back and forth all day, from the front of the diner to the kitchen to the walk-in, flannel sleeves rolled up and a crease on his brow. People had been in and out helping in various ways—bread had been dropped off, someone from the hardware store had brought extra propane, and Imogen had brought them thermoses of hot chocolate earlier. The whole town seemed to be working together, each person contributing what they could to ensure that no one would go hungry or cold during the storm.

It was exactly the kind of community spirit that had made Vanessa fall in love with Fir Tree Grove in the first place.

She scraped the celery into a large bowl and reached for the onions, thinking of how much happier she was here than she’d ever been in San Francisco. If anyone had asked her back then, she’d have said she was happy enough, but now she knew she hadn’t been. She couldn’t imagine going back to how lonely her life had been then. If there’d been a storm that knocked her power out, she wouldn’t have had anyone to come help. She probably would have just used it as an excuse to work even more insane overtime.

“Vanessa, honey, you’re going to chop that onion into dust if you keep going.” Mabel’s voice broke through her reverie.

She looked down to find that she’d indeed reduced the onion to pieces far smaller than necessary. “Oh. Right. I got distracted.”

“I could tell.” Mabel’s tone was affectionate. “That’s the same dreamy look you get whenever Jackson walks into a room.”

Heat crept up Vanessa’s neck. “I do not get a ‘dreamy look.’”

“You absolutely do. It’s adorable.” Mabel finished with the chicken and wiped her hands on her apron, which was decorated with embroidered snowflakes. “You get this soft expression, like you can’t quite believe how lucky you are. Which, for the record, goes both ways. That man looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Before Vanessa could respond, Jackson’s voice carried across the kitchen. “All right, you two. Time for a break.”

“We’re fine,” Vanessa called back, already reaching for another onion. “There’s still so much to do.”

“And it’ll still be here in fifteen minutes.” Jackson came to stand across from them. He had a smudge of flour on his cheek and his apron was splattered with various ingredients, but he smiled as his gaze met Vanessa’s. “You’ve both been working like busy little bees for hours. Take a break, have some pie, rest your feet.”

“Pie?” Mabel perked up immediately. “What kind of pie are we talking about?”

“Well, let’s see.” Jackson pretended to consider, although Vanessa could see the smile tugging at his lips. “We’ve got Dutch apple, chocolate cream, cherry, and I think there’s still a slice of that bourbon pecan left.”

“Dutch apple,” Vanessa said immediately. It was her favorite, and Jackson knew it—he’d started keeping it in stock regularly after their third date, when she’d mentioned in passing that it reminded her of visits to Mabel’s house as a child.

“Chocolate cream for me,” Mabel declared. “With extra whipped cream, if you please.”

“As if I’d serve it any other way.” Jackson squeezed Vanessa’s shoulder as he passed. “Go sit. I’ll bring it over.”

They washed their hands at the big sink, the hot water soothing Vanessa’s slightly cramped fingers, then made their way to one of the booths that lined the front windows. The red vinyl seats were worn smooth from use, comfortable and well-loved. Vanessa slid in on one side, and Mabel settled across from her with a contented sigh.

“Oh, it feels good to sit,” Mabel said, stretching her legs out. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“You’re as spry as ever,” Vanessa countered. “I saw you carrying those bags of flour earlier. Pretty sure they weighed more than you do.”

Outside, the storm continued its assault on the town. Snow piled against the windowpanes, and the wind rattled the glass in its frames. The streetlights had come on two hours ago, their glow softened by the falling snow, creating halos of golden light in the darkness. It was barely six o’clock, but it felt much later, the already short days shortened even further by the heavy storm clouds.

Vanessa watched a particularly strong gust send snow swirling in spirals down Main Street, obscuring the storefronts across the way. The Christmas lights that decorated every lamppost and building were barely visible through the white curtain, just hints of red and green and gold in the gloom. “I heard one of the guys saying the roads out of town are impassable. No one’s getting in or out until this passes.”

“Does that bother you?” Mabel asked curiously.

Vanessa shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “Four years ago it would have; I’d probably have had a panic attack at the idea of being snowed in a small town with no way of escape. But not now. I love it even if times like this can be difficult and inconvenient.”

Mabel’s expression softened, and she reached across the table to place her hand over Vanessa’s. “I’ll always be grateful you came to live in Fir Tree Grove,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Having you here, seeing you happy, watching you build a life with Jackson—it’s more than I ever hoped for.”

Vanessa felt her throat tighten. She turned her hand over, lacing her fingers through Mabel’s. “I’m grateful I’m here too. My life is so much better in so many ways now.”

Jackson appeared then, carrying two plates of pie. “One Dutch apple with vanilla ice cream,” he announced, setting the first plate in front of Vanessa with a flourish. “And one chocolate cream with extra extra whipped cream.”

“Perfect,” Mabel said, eyeing her pie with satisfaction.

Jackson slid into the booth next to Vanessa, his thigh warm against hers in the narrow space. He didn’t have his own pie, but he stole a bite of Vanessa’s with her fork, grinning when she swatted at his hand.

“Don’t you have soup to supervise?” she asked teasingly.

“It’s simmering. I’ve got five minutes.” He took another bite of her pie, then kissed her temple, his lips lingering for just a moment. “Besides, I wanted to make sure you were actually taking a break and not just planning to rush back to work.”