Page 52 of Hiding for the Holidays
“Hey, wait up!” Leo calls a minute later as he jogs after us. I glance back and see Grant following at a slower but steady pace. When we reach the courtyard, we all take a second to brush the snow from ourselves as we decide what to eat.
After lunch, which included a cup of hot apple cider, we find a gingerbread man decoration station where I ice three cookies to look like each of them. Leo decorates one that’s supposed to look like me but turns out to be more of a hot mess than I think even I am, and we eat them as we stroll through the market stalls.
A table of ornaments and Christmas angels catches my eye, and I stop to admire them.
“You like these?” Grant asks, stepping up to my side, placing his hand on my opposite shoulder.
I nod slowly. “Every year my mom would buy a new Christmas angel. She had dozens of them. Every December she would place them all over her home, and we’d talk about where she got each of them.”
His hand squeezes in comfort. “Where are they now?”
“I couldn’t keep them all; there were too many. But I did keep one. It’s…” I trail off, not sure how to tell him I left it along with everything else I own back in Parker Heights and Scott. For all I know, he’s burned it or thrown it out as revenge for me running. “Gone.”
“Well, why don’t you carry on the tradition?”
I look up at him in confusion. “But I don’t have any left.”
He shrugs. “So what? You start it right now. Every year you buy one in memory of her.”
I glance at the large twelve-inch angels. I would eventually amass a collection as large as hers, with nowhere to keep them all. My eyes roam the table, and I see a couple of small angel ornaments. I pick one up and eye it with interest.
“What if I started a different tradition? Each year I get an angel ornament for the tree? That way it doesn’t take up so much room and is easier to store.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“But does it count?” I ask in worry.
“Count? What do you mean?” he asks, turning us to face each other.
“It’s not the same as what she did.”
“I don’t think that matters. What’s important is that you are doing it to remember her. I didn’t know her, but if she’s anything like you, then I’m sure she would have appreciated the gesture.”
I nod. “You’re right.” I look up at the lady behind the table and pass her the angel ornament. “I’ll take this one, please.” I pay her, and she packages it up gently, and I take the bag with a smile.
“Thanks, Grant,” I tell him, grabbing his hand and giving it a small squeeze. He squeezes back and guides me towards where the other two are waiting behind us.
“You found something you like?” Leo asks, eyeing the bag.
“It’s an angel ornament, to honor my mom. I want to get one every Christmas I’m without her.”
They both give me sad smiles, and I roll my shoulders back, not wanting to bring the pleasant atmosphere of the day down.
“Okay, where to next?”
“I actually had an idea, but it would mean stealing you for myself for half an hour,” Grant says before glancing at the other two. They seem to have a silent stare-off for a few seconds before Asher nods.
“There was actually some shopping I wanted to do anyway,” Leo says, trying to play in cool.
“Thanks, guys, I owe you.” I wave goodbye as Grant leads me to the edge of the fair. I want to ask where we’re going but decide to just be surprised.
A forest starts to loom ahead, and I eye Grant nervously. “You aren’t leading me into a forest, are you?”
He chuckles. “Just wait and see.”
It doesn’t take long to reach our destination, and when I see the horse-drawn sleigh, my jaw literally drops open. I’m in stunned silence as Grant speaks to the man who, based on his appearance, must be the driver.
I don’t listen to what they say as I take in the sleigh. It’s pure white with a plush blue bench and a few matching blankets piled at the sides. The two horses are also white and look bigger than other horses I’ve seen. They must be Clydesdales.
