Page 16 of The Christmas Box

2. Believe in Christmas magic.

I smile. “Yes,” I say. “Perfect.”

My own sign is bigger—with curly lettering on white poster board. The wordsWishing Boxand an arrow are surrounded by silver foil stars I cut out by hand. Dara also printed out slips of paper, with spots for a name andMy wish, to place next to the box.

“Now all we need is the box.” I have no idea when to expect it—I didn’t specify a day, and I haven’t a clue how long it will take, especially since Travis has plenty else to deal with right now. Plus, I still don’t know if he can really be counted on for this. But I’m hoping it will show up soon. Maybe I’ll drop in a wish for it to stop snowing already.

“Um, believe it or not,” Dara says, “I think it’s crossing the street right now.”

Following her gaze, I find Travis Hutchins heading our way, carrying the most beautiful, intricately-carved wooden box I’ve ever seen. I rush from behind the bar to the door, holding it open for him. And the closer the box gets, the more breathtaking it becomes. I gasp at the sight.

“I believe you ordered a magical wishing box,” he says, toting it across the threshold.

I’m truly awestruck and can’t take my eyes off it. It’s a hand-crafted piece of art. I’d think it was antique if I didn’t know he just made it. Despite myself, I can’t hide my reaction. “Travis, it’s amazing! You made this in just the past couple of days? It looks like it belongs in an art gallery.”

“So it’s magical enough for you?”

I’ve cleared a small table for it, which I motion to. “It’sbeyondmagical! Isn’t it beyond magical, Dara?”

“Oh, completely beyond,” she agrees, but I mainly think she’s making fun of me.

As he lowers the gorgeous box to its new home, I remember my manners and ask, “Have you met my favorite employee, Dara Burch?”

“I’m youronlyemployee,” she reminds me, one brow arched in my direction.

I simply offer up a smile and a shrug.

“I think I’ve paid her for coffee a couple of times,” Travis replies, glancing toward her, “but not officially. Travis Hutchins.” He gives her a nod.

“Nice to meet you. And nice work on the box. It’s putting a much-needed smile back on Lexi’s face.”

He swings his gaze in my direction. “What’s wrong?”

Another shrug from me, probably a discouraged-looking one, and this time without the smile. “Guess I’m just hoping word will get out about our wishing box and then people will flock from far and wide to shop here.”

He casts me a sidelong glance. “Wait a minute. This from the woman who lives on holiday cheer all year long? Don’t tell me the Grinch snuck in and stole your Christmas.”

“It so happens that you’re the only Grinch I know, and you haven’t stolen anything that I’m aware of.” Well, if I don’t count my Christmas laurel dreams. But I keep that to myself this time.

“Hey, I don’t have to stoop to stealing Who hash and stuffing Christmas trees up chimneys to be Grinchy. But what happened to that holly jolly attitude of yours? I figured that was a twenty-four/seven kinda thing with you.”

I consider inventing some sort of fib—still suffering a niggling desire to appear strong and successful in front of him, especially since he initially dissed my shop—but I go with honesty instead. “Listen, if I wake up looking on the bright side of life most days, it’s because Ichooseto. It’s a mindset that just makes life better. But as for me needing a smile…well, let’s just say business better pick up fast for me to make a real go of it.”

At this, he tilts his handsome head, appearing surprised. “Place seems busy most of the time.”

I sigh. “It is. It just needs to be busier. I’m not on pace to clear what I need to by Christmas. And these last couple of snowy days haven’t helped. It’s keeping people indoors when they’d usually be out.”

He tips his head back in understanding, then assures me, “Maybe things’ll pick up. I can’t imagine we’ll have any more snow for a while.”

That’s when I notice a familiar-looking white dog pressing a wet nose against my plate-glass door. “Aw, look who it is.” Then I take in its expression. “He seems sad.”

Now it’s Travis who suddenly appears grumpy—glancing toward the door to grouse, “Not you again.”

“How’d it go when you let him in the shop the other night?” I ask.

“Well, turns out it’s a her. Andshepooped and peed.”

I lower my chin a bit. “And you know it’s a girlhow?”

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