1. Zane

ONE

ZANE

T he cold December air stings my cheeks as I load the last grocery order into the back of the customer’s old truck. My breath forms little clouds of condensation hanging in the air for a moment before disappearing. I shiver and know I should head back into Whitaker’s General Store, the store my family—well, mostly my dad now—has owned since my grandfather was a little boy, to help my dad close for the night.

The customer honks and pulls away from the curb. I absentmindedly wave as I look at the store, knowing if I went inside right now, the warmth of the fire and the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon would embrace me. Yet, I stay outside in the freezing cold, with my thoughts going to my phone, pulling my attention to the call I received earlier.

Normally, I don’t answer the phone, but something in my gut told me to answer the call from the out-of-state number. I did, and wow! Never in my wildest dreams did I think an organization like Bamford Associates, one of the top law firms in New York City, would want someone like me. Yet, the job offer I have from them says otherwise.

“We’ve been following your progress ever since we met at the college fair, Zane. Your resume is impressive, and we think you’d be a great fit for our internship program. It could lead to a full-time position after you graduate.”

Telling Mr. Bamford I had another semester left didn’t faze him, especially when I mentioned I only had to take one class and had planned on working anyway.

“Don’t worry, Zane. If Bamford Associates is what you want, we’ll make it work.”

“It’s definitely what I want.”

“Great, we’ll circle back after the holidays. Start date is the fifth of January. My assistant will send you everything you’ll need, including your stipend and housing information.”

His words replay in my mind, causing the weight of the moment to settle heavily on my chest. This is everything I have worked for—late nights, endless exams, and menial internships, where my only duty was to run the mail from floor to floor under the guise of “law clerk.” All the hard work and never-ending reading has led to this moment. I would be the biggest fool in the legal field to turn this down. Offers like this don’t come every day.

But as I stand here on the sidewalk, with the lightest of snowflakes falling around me, I look at Main Street in my hometown of Deer Ridge and can’t shake the hollow feeling that accompanies the excitement.

With a heavy sigh, I shove my phone back into my pocket and turn toward the store. My dad, ever the picture of a small-town local, is chatting happily with Mrs. Harlan about the best kind of garland for her mantle. A few years back and in a town over, a house caught fire on Christmas Eve. The homeowners blamed the garland, saying they bought it at our store. After a long investigation, it turned out there was faulty wiring and a rickety mantle. These people tried to ruin our family business, which is why I went into law. I want to protect people like my dad.

His laugh booms through the store, echoing through the rows of canned goods, Christmas decorations, and knickknacks that haven’t changed in years. I spent my childhood helping stock shelves, bagging groceries, and listening to my dad and grandpa tell stories about the “old days.”

I try to picture myself not working here on the weekends or during spring break, and a pang of hurt rushes through me. The thought of leaving this behind feels like a betrayal, but New York City is calling, and this job isn’t the kind of opportunity you turn down. My dad will understand. At least, I think he will. And it’s not like I won’t be back in six months when the semester is over.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Harlan.”

She smiles brightly, which is a lovely sight to see. I know I put a dozen or more gray hairs on her head when she was my fifth-grade teacher. “Zane, detention” was her favorite statement that year.

“Merry Christmas, Zane.”

“You too, ma’am.”

“Zane, can you grab another roll of twine from the back?” my dad asks.

“You bet.” I make my way to the back, stopping to fix some skewed boxes of tinsel and candy canes, trying to push aside the nagging thoughts that won’t leave me alone. In the back, which is impeccably organized, I find the twine easily. But at the sound of the bell over the door jingling, I pause slightly and miss a step. I don’t have to look to know who it is. Somehow, I always feel her presence when she’s nearby.

Evangeline Holcomb.

After dropping the twine off for my dad, I head toward the front, mostly to sneak a kiss. I watch as she brushes the snow from her boots and off the sleeve of her long-sleeved flannel. She looks like Christmas personified—with her flushed cheeks, her blonde hair cascading over her red scarf, and her eyes bright with the kind of happiness that had always made my heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft and warm.

“Hey, Eve.” I don’t know how she does it, but everything seems right in the world now that she’s here. Maybe it’s the way her green eyes widen with excitement every time she sees a friend or family member. Or it’s the way her heart-shaped mouth tilts into a wide smile, causing its recipient to feel at ease instantly. Or maybe it’s just because she’s so damn pretty and takes my breath away every time I see her..

“Busy day?” She walks toward me, resting her hands on my sides and puckering her lips. The back of my fingertips caress her cheek as I lean down and press my lips to hers.

“Same as every other Friday, although all orders have been picked up already, so that’s something.” I shrug and step closer, placing my hand on her hip. “How’s the farm?”

She laughs, a sound that sends warmth through me. “Chaos, as usual. We’re out of wreaths. A dad let his toddler son hold a pie, which is now all over the floor. I tried to catch it but couldn’t get there fast enough. And this little girl came in with her grandma and asked if we had any Charlie Brown trees, which warmed my heart. I took them out to the back forty and cut one down for her.”

“Ah, my favorite type.”

Her smile beams. “Mine too. I look out at those trees and feel so bad for them. They have feelings, ya know.”

Reindeer Ridge Farm is as much a part of Deer Ridge as my dad’s store. Every year they provide the town with the best Christmas tree for miles, and their small shack (as Evangeline calls it) with its homemade pies, wreaths, and maple syrup is legendary. My girl has taken on more responsibility after her brother passed away, and she’s done it all while juggling her own law school studies.

This is one of the many reasons why I love her so much. She cares about everyone and everything. And it’s probably one of the reasons she’ll make a damn fine attorney.

“Sounds like you’re keeping busy, too,” I say, twirling a lock of her wet hair around my finger, but my mind is still spinning from my earlier call.

She nods, her face lighting up as she speaks. “I love it, though. You know Christmas is my favorite time of year, and helping my parents with the farm just makes it feel more special. Plus, I get to see you more often.” She gave me a playful nudge.

My stomach flips, the way it always does when she’s close. Today, it feels different. Now, it feels as though there’s something between us, a distance I’ve put there with this job offer, and I’m not sure how to tell her.

“Zane, are you okay?” Evangeline’s voice is softer now, her eyes narrowing in concern as she steps closer. “You seem . . . off.”

I swallow, the words lodging in my throat. I have to tell her and should’ve called her the second I got off the phone earlier. But how do I tell her I want to leave school a semester early to take the internship of a lifetime?

Evangeline may love Christmas, but she’s not a fan of New York City. Too many people, rushing around and not caring about others. Too much traffic, bumper to bumper on the roads and sounding their horns repeatedly. The hustle and bustle of the city has never been something she’s wanted.

It wasn’t something I wanted until I took the call .

How do I tell the woman I plan to spend the rest of my life with that everything we’ve talked about, the future we planned together, is going to detour for a bit? Because that is what this is—a detour. Six months and then we’ll be back on the right path.

“I’m fine,” I lie, forcing a smile. “Just tired from running around all day and ready to sit down for dinner.”

While her brow furrows, she doesn’t push. Evangeline has always been good about giving me space, trusting I’ll come to her when I’m ready. This news, though, isn’t something I can keep from her. The thing is, I don’t want to ruin her Christmas.

“Are we still on for the tree lighting tonight?”

“Of course. We wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

She smiles and rises on her toes to kiss me. I hold her there longer than I should, considering we’re in my dad’s store, but I don’t care. I need her right now. When we part, she looks at me with her beautiful green eyes twinkling in the lights.

“I love you, Eve.”

“I love you more.”

Later, I stand at the edge of the town square, watching the crowd gather for the annual Christmas tree lighting. The air is crisp and cold, filled with the hum of laughter and the scent of pine and hot cocoa. Children dart between their parents, grandparents and other adults, their faces lit with excitement. Today was their last day of school for a couple of weeks and I’m sure they’re hopped up on all the sugary sweets from their holiday parties.

Evangeline stands beside me, her hand warm in mine, and her eyes glowing with joy. If I have to guess, mine are dim and match my focus. I should be enjoying the happenings around me, but my mind keeps wandering back to the phone call earlier and the opportunity waiting for me in New York City.

I feel her fingers caress my cheek and I lean into her touch. “You look lost.”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Life. The future.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Her hand drops and she steps in front of me. Her expression is soft, but serious. “What’s going on, Zane?”

I sigh, knowing I can’t keep this from her any longer. “I got a job offer. A paid internship.”

Her eyes widened, and a smile spreads across her face. “That’s amazing! Where?”

“New York City.”

The words hang between us, heavy and thick. The earlier excitement dims and her smile falters.

“New York.”

I can’t tell if she’s asking me a question or if she’s saying the words to herself.

“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, assuming she’s reiterating what I said. “It’s just an internship, but it could lead to something more. It’s a big firm, Eve. An amazing opportunity.”

Her face is a mixture of emotions: pride, confusion, and something else I can’t quite place.

“That’s . . .” She clears her throat. “That’s great, Zane. I mean, it’s what you’ve been working for, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” I admit, though the words feel heavier than they should.

“But it’s in New York,” she repeats, as if saying it out loud will make it easier to process.

“It’s only six months, Eve. A slight detour from the path we’ve planned for ourselves, and an easy trip from Albany on the train.” Although, it might as well be a world away from Deer Ridge, from the store, farm, and everything I know and love.

The lights flicker on, illuminating the giant tree in the center of the square. The crowd erupts in cheers, the town square glowing with warmth and festive cheer. But I feel none of what I love about the season. There’s a sudden coldness between Evangeline and me.

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, her eyes fixed on the tree, though I can tell her mind is elsewhere.

“Is this what you want?” she asks quietly.

I swallow hard, the weight of the question pressing down on me. “It’s an incredible opportunity, Eve. I can’t just pass it up.”

“What about school? We have a semester left and then we are . . .” She looks away, but not before I see her eyes water with tears .

“I’ll be back in time for graduation, and you can come see me on the weekends.”

She shakes her head. “You know I won’t.”

I know, but I’m hoping.

“What about our plans, Zane?”

The question I’ve been dreading. I don’t have an answer. How could I when I haven’t figured anything out?

“I don’t know, Eve. They can be on hold for a few months.”

“And the apartment we just signed the lease for?”

Shit. The apartment . With the shock of receiving the offer of the internship, coupled with thinking about how I was going to tell Eve, I forgot about the fact that we’ve just tied ourselves into a lease .

I don’t have to say anything. She can see it on my face. Evangeline pulls her hand from mine, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to shield herself from the cold.

“You know what,” I say as I wrap my arms around her. “There will be other opportunities.” But even as I say the words, I don’t believe them.