Page 71 of The Holiday Swap

“I doubt it. I told him the truth, and he was speechless. He said he didn’t know what to say.”

“And then what?”

“And then I left. Came back here.”

“Sometimes it takes people a minute to figure out what they need to say. That doesn’t mean it’s all over. If this Miguel is as caring and thoughtful as you say, then he’s the kind of man who needs a little while to process. It doesn’t mean it’s all over.”

“But how do I fix it? I’m here, and he’s there, and there’s nothing I can do.”

Faye was reaching for her purse. “No, I’ll get these,” Cass said, but Faye waved her away and put some bills on the table.

“I can’t answer that one for you, my dear. It’s Christmas, though. Magic happens at Christmas. Maybe the truth is you can’t fix anything. You just have to”—she waved her hand in the air as if casting a magic spell, and Cass half expected to see a puff of glitter or sparks—“let things run their course.”

Faye leaned in further. “With Charlie and Jake, too, alright? Just let them figure it out, don’t get involved. I won’t tell Jake what I know, and you don’t tell him, either. Stand aside and let true love win the day.” She cocked her head to the side. “I have a feeling this is all going to sort itself out.”

Then she stood somewhat gingerly and kissed Cass on the top of her head. “Now, I still have Christmas shopping to do, and the coming blizzard is about to make that impossible. I’d suggest youget back to that bakery and talk to your sister. And then, maybe give your Miguel a call? Wish him an early Merry Christmas. See if he’s figured out what he wants to say yet.” She smiled one last time, and then, with a tinkling of bells at the top of the café door, she was gone, out into the snowy afternoon.

Cass put on her coat and went back out onto the street, too. She turned toward the bakery, but her steps grew plodding. She had solved the issue with the starter, but she still had no idea what to say to Charlie, how to make things right again. Some of the things Charlie had said had really hurt her; she knew Charlie likely felt the same. She had spent the day saying the things that needed to be said—to Makewell’s, to Brett, to Faye. But she still couldn’t think of what to say to her sister.

Cass needed more time to clear her head, and then she could deal with Charlie—and also do as Faye had said and give Miguel a call. That was going to take a huge amount of courage, and she didn’t feel she had it yet. And she knew just where to get it: the familiar trails that surrounded the town. It had been too long since she cleared her head with a good long hike. Cass stopped at her car to drop off the Christmas presents she had bought for her parents and headed off in the opposite direction, away from the town and toward the mountains she loved. She still had time before the storm started, and luckily she’d dressed for the weather.

She breathed in deeply as she walked, heading farther into the trees, toward the trail she liked best. Immediately, she felt her heart rate begin to slow—and realized she had been running on nerves and adrenaline for days, something she wasn’t used to. She kept walking and felt the beginnings of a release. Faye was right: everything was going to be okay. Christmas, her favorite time ofyear, was magic. She had had mixed feelings about coming home—but a break from the pace of the city was doing her good already.

She had counted on the fact that the storm would start slowly, as was so often the case in Starlight Peak, with a slow, steady buildup that eventually blanketed the town in white. But now she looked up at the snowflakes starting to swirl above her head. The downfall was thick and coming on fast.

A few more minutes and her visibility was down to almost nothing.

“Shoot,” Cass muttered, turning around. But already, it was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of her.

She took a step forward, but there was a small pit in the path ahead she hadn’t been able to see in the snow. She stumbled and pitched forward. Before she could put out her hands to break her fall, she felt her headthunkagainst a tree stump hidden by the falling snow. She cried out as pain flooded through her and blurred her vision.

No, Cass, you can’t. You have to get up. You have to get up now.But she couldn’t. It was too much. The white snow falling in thick sheets blurred before her eyes. But she forced herself to focus on reaching into her pocket for her cell phone. With rapidly freezing fingers she pulled her phone out of her pocket. She willed herself not to lose consciousness before she could speak—but knew in her heart that even if she didn’t manage to ask for help, Charlie would know. Charlie would come for her. She had to.

22

Charlie

Thursday: 2 Days Until Christmas...

Starlight Peak

Charlie had awoken early in her old bedroom at her parents’ house. It was strange, being back in her childhood home and all alone at Christmastime. Normally the house would be full of Christmas cheer. But between her fight with Cass the night before and the uncertainty around her parents’ snowed-in flight delays, she was feeling lonelier than ever.

The initial shock of knowing Austin had scooped the job out from under her had faded—though she still wasn’t sure how it had happened—but in its place was a sense of failure that Charlie was unaccustomed to, and she didn’t like it. It was the first time in yearsthat she had no plan, no handle on her career trajectory, and it was alarming. Her sleep had been fitful, and she knew the only solution for now was a strong cup of coffee. Charlie scavenged around the kitchen until she found an old tin of grounds in the freezer—her parents were tea drinkers—and brewed a pot.

Charlie was refilling her mug when her phone pinged. She glanced at the screen, and was so distracted she nearly overfilled her mug,

Hey, can we talk?

Jake. Charlie’s stomach dropped, coffee bitter in her throat. Her fingers hovered as she tried to figure out what to say. She still didn’t know what Cass had said to Jake outside the bakery, but without question the interaction clearly had left Jake confused. Because Cass obviously had no clue what Charlie had been up to all week, or just how far things had gone with Jake.

Charlie typed, erased, typed, erased, finally settling on:

Hey. Can’t chat right now, but I promise I’ll explain soon.

The coffee no longer appetizing—her stomach soured by the text exchange, and what had to come next—Charlie set her mug in the sink. Then she headed upstairs to get ready for what she hoped wouldn’t be the most disastrous day yet.

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