Page 1 of Magic in Mistletoe
Chapter 1
Forawomanwho’dgrown up at the beach, practiced outdoor yoga, and enjoyed a morning cafecito, Sadie Wexford never expected to end up living in Alaska. And not even Anchorage. No, Sadie had landed in middle-of-nowhere-Mistletoe. Even after several months, she still wasn’t accustomed to it. Each day welcomed a fresh surprise, but not the good kind. Yesterday, a bear wandered through downtown. And this morning, she’d found a mouse nest in the toaster. In. The. Toaster. She’d never eat toast again.
So it was no surprise that as she made her way to work, she questioned whether she’d ever call this place home. With a heavy sigh, Sadie crunched through the snow-covered streets. Bundled beneath a heavy winter parka, large gray scarf, hat, mittens, and big, furry boots, she could pass for a Yeti. Nonetheless, she’d resigned herself to tough it out in Mistletoe and at the Snowflake Sugar Shop. “Where every bite’s cooler than ice,” she said aloud, mocking the store’s slogan.
With her key in the lock, she paused. She should be grateful. Inheriting the store had been the only beacon of hope after many terrible months. She’d been down to her last few hundred dollars when the probate attorney called her. Initially, Sadie believed it to be a cruel prank. Inheriting not only a house but also a business from a grandmother she never knew seemed too good to be true. But the attorney had persisted, and before she knew it, Sadie was on a plane to Alaska.
That was three months ago. And the house was technically a cabin, and the business a candy store in a small, small town.
Whummph. A bunch of snow slid off the roof, landing on her head. “Stupid snow,” Sadie yelled and stomped into the store. Snow hit the mat as she shook it off her head and shoulders, her grumpy demeanor louder than any words she could have uttered.
She hung up her coat and changed her boots for shoes in the back office, then surveyed the quiet shop, preparing herself for another day of work. She’d have a much better day if she didn’t have to deal with customers.
The door jingled open, and a gust of cold air ushered in Rosie, the Snowflake Sugar Shop’s resident candy maker. Her curly red hair bounced in time with the jingles of the door chimes.
“Good morning, Sadie.” Her cheerful voice cut through the peace like a sharp sword. Her bright green eyes sparkled as she shook the snow off her coat, and her mere presence infused the store with energy.
“How?” Sadie grunted. “How are you this happy when we only have daylight for about five hours? I come to work in the dark. I go home in the dark. It’s depressing.” She could feel Rosie’s eyes on her and braced herself for the inevitable onslaught of positivity that was sure to follow. This type of exchange had become part of their morning ritual.
“The snow,” Rosie said, peering out the window. “It’s a winter wonderland out there. I love it.”
“That’s crazy. Every snowflake is another reason to stay in bed,” Sadie replied. “I miss the sand under my feet and the sun’s heat on my face.” She focused intently on the candy in front of her, determined not to let Rosie’s cheerfulness seep into her own mood.
“Come on, Sadie. It’s almost Christmas. Surely even you can find some joy in that?”
“Joy?” Sadie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’ll find joy when I don’t have to deal with biting wind, shoveling snow, and layers and layers of clothes.” She finally looked up at Rosie, trying to silently convey how uninterested she was in discussing holiday cheer.
Undeterred, Rosie approached the counter. “What if,” she began, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “we make a bet? If something brings you genuine holiday cheer, you have to wear a Santa hat from then until Christmas. Deal?”
Sadie eyed Rosie skeptically, considering her proposition. She knew it was highly unlikely that anything could turn her into a festive enthusiast, so the risk was minimal. “Fine,” she relented, extending her hand to seal the deal.
“Deal!” Rosie declared, giving Sadie’s hand a firm shake.
The door to the Snowflake Sugar Shop jingled merrily as a group of customers stepped inside, bringing with them a rush of frosty air. Sadie forced herself not to scowl as the icy breeze penetrated her sweater, causing goosebumps to break out over her arms. She rubbed them to warm up as she turned to face the customers.
“Welcome,” she said flatly.
Rosie flashed a bright smile at the newcomers from behind the counter, her green eyes sparkling with genuine friendliness. “Hi there. Let us know if you need help finding anything,” she called out cheerfully, her voice carrying easily through the cozy shop. A few customers grinned in response, clearly taken in by Rosie’s infectious optimism.
“Have a look around,” Sadie added, though her words lacked the same enthusiasm.
“Sadie, at least try to smile,” Rosie whispered, leaning in close. “These are your customers. Don’t scare them away.”
“I’m trying,” Sadie grumbled, begrudgingly attempting to soften her expression. As the customers browsed, she watched Rosie assist them. The contrast between her and Sadie stung–while Rosie glowed with an inner light, Sadie lived under a rain cloud.
An older woman with tight gray curls approached the counter with a selection of candy-filled jars, her cheeks rosy from the cold. “These are for my grandchildren,” she explained. “They absolutely love your candy! It’s such a treat during the holiday season.”
“I’m glad, but that’s all Rosie’s doing,” Sadie replied, ringing up the items, her movements stiff and efficient. “That’ll be thirty-five dollars.”
“You’re Sadie Wexford, right? I heard you came up to take over the candy store. I’m so sorry about the loss of your grandmother. The entire community loved her.”
“Thank you,” Sadie replied. Since she’d never met the woman, condolences made her uncomfortable. “Here you go,” she muttered, handing over the bagged candy without meeting the woman’s gaze. She was not in the mood for further conversation. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you so much,” the customer exclaimed but remained at the counter. “I’m sure you’ve been told how much you look like Mable when she was your age. She had the same brown hair and ice-blue eyes, and oh, her skin was as smooth as a porcelain doll’s. Exactly like yours. She was a senior when my friends and I started high school, and we thought a beauty queen had arrived in Mistletoe.” The woman paused as if lost in memories. “Well, welcome to Mistletoe and Merry Christmas!”
“Happy holidays,” Sadie replied, attempting to sound cheerful, but she turned away as soon as the door closed behind the woman. She stared blankly at the rows of colorful candies lining the shelves, her heart heavy with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.
Sadie took a deep breath, trying to center herself amidst the chaos of the candy store. This time of year always brought out the worst in her; the forced merriment, the fake smiles, everyone pretending to be happy when she knew deep down they had their own struggles and heartaches. Why hadn’t she waited until after the holidays to move to Mistletoe? Oh right, her lack of money and impending eviction.
