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The flutter of anxiety passed through her again as she looked over at her friends, finally all off of their feet, sitting around laughing and eating pie and drinking tea after the long day. She wasn’t sure when the perfect time would be to share that secret with the women who had become her closest friends. Just like with Lincoln, she kept second-guessing herself. Was now the right moment? Should she wait until after the holidays? What if she said it wrong, or the timing felt off, or⁠—

“Imogen!” Vanessa’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Get over here before all the pie is gone. Mabel’s already eyeing my slice.”

“I am not,” Mabel protested, although her fork was indeed hovering dangerously close to Vanessa’s plate. “I’m just admiring Jackson’s lattice work. It’s quite impressive.”

Imogen smiled despite her nerves and made her way to the booth where Vanessa, Mabel, Nicole, and Layla had squeezed themselves in, their winter coats piled on the adjacent table in a mountain of fabric and fleece. “Sit, sit,” Nicole urged, scooting over to make room. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and her eyes sparkled with happiness. “We were just talking about how many families we managed to get to today. I think we hit every house on the outskirts.”

“Twenty-two families,” Vanessa confirmed. “And Philip was an absolute angel the entire time, even when we had to bundle him up like a little burrito to keep him warm.”

Imogen slid into the booth, grateful for the comfort of her friends around her. They were all tired, but there was a satisfied happiness in the air knowing they’d spent the day helping their neighbors weather the storm.

“How are you feeling?” Vanessa asked quietly, leaning closer so the others wouldn’t hear. “You looked a little pale this morning.”

“I’m fine,” Imogen assured her. “Better than fine, actually.”

Vanessa studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Good,” she said, letting Imogen’s reticence slide. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Jackson appeared at their table a moment later, balancing a tray laden with more slices of pie and a fresh pot of tea. There was a smudge of flour on his cheek that Vanessa leaned up to brush away, and he looked as tired as everyone else, but he had the same smile that Imogen saw on the faces of everyone around her. “Ladies, you’ve earned a second round on the house, for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more dedicated group of soup deliverers in my life.”

“We learned from the best,” Mabel said, patting his arm. “Your beef and vegetable soup was the perfect thing for a day like today. Hearty and warming.”

“And the cornbread,” Nicole added. “Don’t forget the cornbread. I think some of the families were more excited for a delivery of Snowdrift Diner cornbread than the soup, even.”

Jackson laughed and set down the tray, distributing pie slices among the group, remembering whose favorite was which. Imogen accepted hers gratefully, although she wasn’t sure she could eat much. Her stomach was doing somersaults again, but this time it had nothing to do with morning sickness and more to do with wondering when she was going to spill her secret to the others.

“So,” Mabel said, settling back against the booth with her slice of chocolate cream pie, “I have to say, this storm might have been a disaster, but it certainly brought out the best in everyone. I saw Nolan McCoy out there delivering firewood to at least six different houses, and he didn’t even grumble about it.”

“Well, he grumbled a little,” Vanessa corrected with a smile. “But his heart was in the right place.”

“It always is,” Mabel agreed. “He just likes to pretend otherwise.”

Nicole had been quiet, Imogen noticed, pushing pie around her plate rather than eating it. There was a brightness in her eyes, and she radiated a barely contained energy that made Imogen think of champagne bubbles rising to the surface of a glass. She kept glancing at the others, then down at her hands, then back up again, as if she was working up the courage to say something.

“Nicole?” Imogen asked gently. “Is everything all right?”

Nicole’s head snapped up, and a smile spread across her face. “Actually,” she said, her voice rising slightly with excitement, “everything is more than all right. Everything is perfect.”

She set down her fork and held out her left hand, which she’d kept tucked in her lap, and Imogen gasped, as did everyone else sitting around them. There was a small oval diamond ring glinting on her left hand, with a tiny round diamond set on either side, in yellow gold with a filigree pattern along the band.

“Henry proposed,” Nicole said, her voice wobbling slightly. “Last night, during the storm. We were sitting by the fire, and he just… he asked me to marry him.”

The booth erupted in squeals and exclamations, everyone talking at once. Vanessa grabbed Nicole’s hand to examine the ring more closely, and Layla was smiling too, her eyes suspiciously bright. Imogen felt her own throat tighten with emotion.

“It’s beautiful,” Vanessa breathed. “Nicole, I’m so happy for you.”

“Tell us everything,” Mabel demanded. “Every single detail. What did he say? What did you say? Was it romantic?”

Nicole laughed, dabbing at her misty eyes with a napkin. “It was perfect. We’d just finished resecuring all the Christmas lights he’d installed around town as best we could, trying to make sure nothing would come down in the wind—some of which was more successful than others,” she added wryly, “and we were exhausted. We came home and he made hot chocolate, and we sat by the fire, and he just… he told me that he’d been carrying the ring around for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment. And then he said that he realized there was no such thing as a perfect moment, that every moment with me was already perfect.”

Imogen felt tears prick at her own eyes. She thought of the way Lincoln had looked at her when she’d blurted out her pregnancy news in the middle of a snowstorm, how happy he had been. There was something about love in Fir Tree Grove, she thought. It always came around right when someone needed it the most.

“And then,” Nicole continued, “he got down on one knee right there in front of the fireplace and asked me to be his wife. He said he wanted to spend every Christmas for the rest of his life making sure I was warm and safe and loved.”

“Oh, Nicole,” Mabel said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “That’s beautiful.”

Nicole looked around at each of them in turn. “I want you all to be there,” she said. “You’re all such good friends, and you’ve been so kind ever since I moved here. You’re all just as important to me in your own ways. Will you be my bridesmaids? All of you?”

“Yes!” Vanessa said immediately, not even hesitating. “Of course, yes!”