1. Charlotte

1

CHARLOTTE

C harlotte Kendrick watched the ribbon of highway ahead of her unfurl into an ocean of snow-frosted trees, and sighed with pleasure.

She was coming off of a hard, hard year, but driving her dad’s old Mustang through miles of deep evergreen forest made her feel like she was leaving all her troubles in the rearview mirror.

And there was something about heading into the unknown that felt amazing—especially when the unknown she was fast approaching was the beautiful Vermont hometown of her college bestie, Allie. If the town was half as beautiful and friendly as Allie made it out to be, then this trip was going to be worth every mile. And the closer she got, the more certain she was that she’d made the right decision.

“This is going to be the best Christmas ever,” she decided out loud.

Charlotte was an optimist—always had been, always would be.

On the radio, Kelly Clarkson wailed out the lyrics of “Christmas Isn’t Canceled” as if in agreement. Charlotte turned it up, and then tapped along with her thumbs on the steering wheel as the road curved among pine trees so tall she wondered if dinosaurs had once roamed among them.

Dad would have loved this.

Although Charlotte had spent part of her childhood in rural Pennsylvania, her family had to move to the city when she was still in grade school. They always intended to move back when they could, but the economy tightened up, forcing her dad to keep his city job until he finally got sick enough that he couldn’t work anymore. But Charlotte still dreamed of the fresh air in the countryside. She wondered if her mom did too.

Since losing Dad, it seemed like Mom avoided talking about the past at all costs. So when Charlotte broke the news that she had decided to take Allie up on the offer to run her family’s little ice cream shop in Sugarville Grove, Mom hadn’t even mentioned how similar the small, rural village was to the place they had left so long ago, even when she’d shown her some of the pictures Allie had sent.

“Go and enjoy your new adventure, Lottie,” Mom had said, squeezing her hand on top of the table. “I’ll be fine here. There’s lots to look forward to.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure exactly what her mother was looking forward to. But try as she might, she couldn’t get her mom to admit that she didn’t want her to go.

And Charlotte honestly needed the work, and an escape from Bryce Collingsworth, who hadn’t so much as called since dumping her and basically forcing her to quit her job in the process. Which might have actually been a good thing, because she was afraid that if he did call she might not be able to resist picking up. And she’d already spent too much time in his world.

Right now, what Charlotte really needed was something of her own—something to focus on while her twice-broken heart had a chance to heal. A new location and a new job were the easiest remedies, but she had left college during senior year to help take care of Dad, and finding a great new job without that degree wasn’t easy. Which made her even more grateful for the unexpected job offer from Allie.

Of course Allie had also warned her that business in the shop wasn’t exactly booming, but Charlotte had chosen to take that as a challenge. If she could make an ice cream shop profitable in the middle of a Vermont winter, then maybe those years in business school weren’t a waste after all.

She accepted on the spot, and didn’t waste any time getting ready to go. Two suitcases and a duffel bag were enough to empty her nook of a bedroom, and before she knew it, she was tossing them into the backseat of Dad’s old Mustang and hitting the road.

The minute the concrete labyrinth of Philadelphia began to give way to the suburbs, she felt herself taking deeper breaths. And once she was north of New York City, it was like being in another world. The views had her itching to get out her camera and try to capture some of that winter magic. But that could wait until she was settled.

Now that she was less than half an hour from Sugarville Grove, she couldn’t wait for her peaceful, small-town escape to begin.

Ahead, the road curved and a little gas station came into view. Charlotte bit her lip trying to decide what to do. As much as she wanted to push on, she knew she should probably stop.

Dad’s Mustang had been an indulgence back when he bought it and started fixing it up. And it still had some issues to work out. She’d found herself needing to stop to add oil almost every hour of the drive, like clockwork, and figured she was going to have to order a new oil pan gasket as soon as she got where she was going. It was annoying, but she knew it could have been worse. It was sort of a miracle these days to have a car with easily replaceable parts and none of the computer chips that needed those expensive diagnostics.

It was hard not to see the symbolism of being constantly stopped every time she was on her way somewhere.

Things happen for a reason , she thought to herself as she put on her turn signal out of habit, even though she hadn’t seen another vehicle in ten minutes. The car bumped onto the gravel lot, sending her dad’s dog tags jingling from their place of honor on her rearview mirror.

“Hey there,” an elderly man called out, giving her a wave as she exited her car. He wore an oil-stained coverall, a faded Giants cap, and a friendly smile. “Can I help you with anything?”

She blinked at him in total surprise for a moment. She’d had to flag down someone to help with oil at every stop on the way up here. Not one person had made it easy for her. The man waited patiently for her to answer, his smile unfaltering.

“Uh, yes, please,” she said after a second. “Do you have 10W-30?”

“Of course,” he told her, heading to a rack by the glass door of the little shop.

She looked around, wondering how the guy managed to make a living out here. Beautiful, unspoiled forest surrounded the road on every side. Even the smell of gasoline couldn’t hide the Christmas tree scent coming in on the crisp breeze.

When the man returned, he was holding up a bottle of oil like it was a trophy.

“Great,” she said.

She went to pop the hood, but he made a clucking sound at her.

“I’ve got it,” he said cheerfully.

But before he could get started, the telephone in the shop began ringing, a jangling that sounded like her grandparents’ old-fashioned landline.

“Back in a jiffy,” he assured her. “The missus frets if I don’t pick up.”

“No worries,” she replied.

As soon as he disappeared inside, she grabbed her funnel and rag from the plastic bag she kept in the trunk and got to work adding oil herself like she normally did. Thankfully, it didn’t need much. She was just about done when she heard the sound of another car pulling into the lot. When a car door slammed behind her, she looked up so fast that she bumped her head on the inside of the hood.

“You okay?” a deep voice asked.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, ducking out this time to look up, and up, and up at the man talking to her.

He was like a handsome lumberjack from the cover of one of her mother’s old Harlequin novels. She couldn’t help picturing him leaping out of a book and into this gas station parking lot, ready to sweep some lucky woman off her feet.

“You would think I’d remember the hood,” she babbled, desperately, trying not to let herself stare. But she couldn’t help cataloging his broad shoulders and big biceps bulging against his plaid flannel. His hair was so dark it was almost black, and just barely brushed the collar of his shirt. She had a ridiculous urge to reach out and run her fingers through it, just to see if it was as soft as it looked. “I’ve had to put oil in so many times on my way here…”

“Car shouldn’t need that much oil,” he said suddenly, his piercing blue eyes squinting at the Mustang, as if the car had somehow offended him with its thirst.

The thought made her realize how dry her throat suddenly felt, and she swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes off his scowling face. When his crystal-blue gaze finally slid from the car to Charlotte, their eyes met, and she felt something pass between them like an unspoken secret.

The world seemed to fade away at the edges and anticipation tingled on the surface of her skin—like the breathless moment before lightning strikes. She suddenly felt alive and alert, as if she had been sleeping before, but just hadn’t realized.

“I-I’ll park it for a while when I get where I’m going,” she said, quickly tearing her eyes from his and wondering what on earth was happening to her. Maybe it was all that caffeine she’d consumed while trying to avoid fatigue on the drive. “I just need to save up for an oil pan gasket, and then I’ll order one online. Thankfully, you can get them easily, even for a car this old.”

He nodded once and turned away, pulling something out of his pocket as he stepped back over to his pickup truck.

She watched, transfixed, as he flicked open a pocketknife and crouched to work a small rock out of his tire. After a few seconds, it hit the gravel with a satisfying ping.

The big, grumpy man straightened up, flicked the knife shut, shoved it back in his pocket, and hopped into the cab of his truck without sparing her another glance. The engine roared as he took off a little too fast back onto the road, kicking up gravel in his wake.

She stood there for a second, watching after the black pickup and wondering what had just happened.

“Aw, ya did it yourself,” the old man called out as he strode back to her from the shop. “You’re a handy one.”

“Thanks,” she said, shaking off the odd encounter she’d just had. “Do you have a couple more of these? I should take some along.”

Sure enough, he was able to sell her two more bottles. As he rang her up, she tried not to think about the fact that every bottle she bought put her a little farther from buying the part she needed so she could stop buying oil.

One step forward, two steps back, her dad used to say when Charlotte found herself in a situation like this—like the time she joined the girls’ soccer team in high school, hoping that participating in a sport might help her get into college. She had immediately broken her ankle and benched herself for the entire season. The broken ankle also prevented her from doing the volunteer work at the local shelter that she loved and had been doing for years, leaving her college application even more lacking.

But things always worked out eventually. She had still gotten into college, even with the setbacks. And sooner or later, she would get that oil pan gasket and she wouldn’t have to buy oil all the time.

And in the meantime, she was excited for the chance to help turn around Allie’s family’s ice cream shop.

The difference between pessimism and optimism is patience, she told herself firmly. And I’ve got nothing but time.

She got back into the Mustang and the engine started with the mighty growl that always made her smile, and she realized she felt good down to her toes.

It has nothing to do with that grumpy hunk , she decided. Though if that was the way the men around here were built, it was going to be harder than she’d expected to keep her promise to focus on herself.

She pulled back onto the road and fixed her mind on Allie Lawrence, the best friend she’d ever had. Whatever else waited for her in Sugarville Grove, Allie would be there. And that meant everything was going to be just fine.

Before long, Charlotte started spotting houses between the trees. She got excited when she passed a little corner store, where a group of older men stood talking, bundled up in big coats, their colorful scarves dancing in the wind.

When she passed the elementary school where Allie worked she knew she was close, and sure enough, the Sugarville Grove village square began a block later.

A beautiful, snowy park took up most of the square. There was an enormous evergreen tree on one side, and an honest-to-goodness pavilion on the other that was hung with evergreen boughs and strung with golden lights that would be gorgeous when the sun went down.

The shops surrounding the park were all three-story, brick Victorians with big windows and wide sidewalks in front. Charlotte couldn’t help noticing that nearly all of them were decorated for the coming holiday. Holly branches, twinkling lights, and evergreen wreaths were everywhere she looked.

I feel like I stepped into a movie, she thought to herself.

Just like Allie had told her, the ice cream shop was in the middle of Maple Street, across from the park, right in the heart of town. Charlotte pulled into an empty spot and sighed with relief.

Maybe she had stopped a lot along the way, but she had finally arrived somewhere . And this somewhere looked almost too good to be true.

She got out of the car and headed to the shop, where a piece of paper taped to the front door fluttered in the chill breeze.

Charlotte, I’m so sorry, but I have an emergency parent-teacher meeting tonight. The key is under the mat. Please let yourself in and make yourself at home. I’ll call as soon as I’m done.

love & kisses

Allie

Charlotte read the note again in amazement. Surely Allie hadn’t written this note, left it on the door where any curious person could read it, and then actually slipped a key under the mat…

But when she lifted the corner of the welcome mat, there was a key attached to a plastic keychain sporting a logo of a woodchuck with a hockey stick that said Fighting Woodchucks—’89 Champions—Go Chucks!

“Unbelievable,” Charlotte murmured to herself.

She grabbed it and let herself into the shop.

The space was deep, with high ceilings and wide-plank wood floors. Plain white paint on the walls and ceiling made it feel as bright as possible with only the front windows to let in the last of the sunlight.

A glass-topped wood counter began at the center of the space and went almost halfway to the back wall on the left side of the shop. Behind it, the old-fashioned cash register looked like something out of the old black-and-white movies her dad liked.

The right-hand wall was set with cute little tables, with a few more over by the big front windows.

If she was being honest, the whole place felt a little faded and plain. But it was clean, and spacious, and all hers.

Charlotte headed behind the counter right away and took in the view over town that she was going to be seeing every day.

This place is a blank slate , she thought to herself. But so am I. And we’re both ready to be transformed.