“Actually, I was.” Victoria stretched to grab a Christmas tin off the fridge. She popped off the metal lid and held out the contents for Noel’s perusal. “Take one and tell me what you think.”

Noel’s heart thundered in her ears as she stared down at the lightly powdered squares inside. “They look like my mother’s lemon shortbread cookies.”

“That’s because they are. I pulled out her recipe and followed it to the letter, but I need you to be my official taste tester.”

Her mouth dry and chalky, she took a cookie from the tin. The Carter Lemon Shortbread Cookies were a coveted recipe. No one outside the family had ever seen it before.

“Did…you never told me my mother gave you the recipe.”

“She left a copy in her will for me. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, I don’t mind.” Noel hadn’t used the recipe since before her parents’ death, hadn’t wanted the reminder, but with Victoria eagerly watching her, Noel had no choice but to take a bite.

The powdered sugar dissolved on her tongue even as the tart lemon and buttery base of the cookie swirled together, triggering a flood of memories projecting through her mind like a video reel. She could hear her mother humming “O Christmas Tree.” Her father’s laugh when he stole a cookie before she could catch him. Noel’s small hands covered by her mother’s as they pressed down on the square cookie cutter into the cold dough. The warmth of her mother’s skin as she spun Noel around the kitchen, their hands clasped together. Flour swirling through the air like fairy dust.

“Noel?” Victoria’s voice, flooded with concern, brought Noel back to the present. “Honey, are you all right?”

“Yeah. I mean…yes. I’m fine.” Noel blinked rapidly against the blurriness in her vision, refusing to let tears fall. “These are perfect. Can I ask what prompted you to make them?”

Victoria opened the tea packet and dropped the bag into Noel’s cup of hot water before answering. “Have a seat and I’ll explain.” Noel sat in one of the stools at the counter, setting the cookie next to her cup. If she finished it now, there would be no stopping the onslaught of emotions and she was barely hanging on.

Victoria picked up a stack of photos and held them out to Noel. “I know this time of year is rough for you. It’s hard for me as well. Your mother and I were friends since we were in diapers, just like you and Nick. We were sisters in every way but blood.”

Noel looked through the photos of her parents, most taken as they performed together at the annual Mistletoe Christmas Concert. Both were musically gifted and they’d met during choir practice in high school. Her father came from a long line of Carter musicians who took their careers on the road. Her parents both went to college but spent their summers performing in local venues, spreading their love of music. Neither of them had the fame and fortune bone, though, and they came back to Mistletoe to settle down and start a family. Her mother took over the choir at the high school and her dad put his business degree to good use. He opened a music store and filled it with instruments, CDs, and vintage vinyl records. Weeknights and weekends, adults and children alike attended classes at Carter’s Symphony, learning how to play guitar and piano. She’d spent most of her own childhood standing in the doorways, listening as skills improved.

Her mom and dad loved that store, but even before their death, it had taken a downward turn with the rise of online shopping. After they were gone, Noel couldn’t bear to go back inside and the Winterses had sold everything at her behest with the exception of a few items locked away in storage.

Noel stopped on a photo of Victoria and her mother, Heather. Each held a chubby baby in their arms, smiling for the camera. By the blue and pink outfits, Noel knew it was her and Nick.

Her mother’s joyful face staring back at her stirred the memories she kept buried. A painful lump nearly choked her and she couldn’t look anymore.

“I know how close you were,” Noel whispered, setting the stack of photos down.

“I need to talk to you about something very important. Your parents loved the Christmas concert. It was their event…”

Oh God. Noel knew what was coming and she was already formulating her polite refusal.

“We’ve honored them every year since their passing, never deviating from their playlist. This year we wanted to do something really special for them and I was hoping that you would be a part of it.”

“What…what do you want me to do?”

“I would like you to sing, baby. This event was created by the Carter family not soon after the town of Mistletoe was founded. A Carter should continue the tradition. Don’t you think?”

“Honestly, no. Every Carter except my great-great-great-grandfather left this town and my dad was an only child. I think the tradition should be expanded to include other people, if you want to keep the concert going.” Noel cleared her throat, fighting past the lump of panic. “Plus, I don’t sing. Not in public, anyway.”

“It would mean a lot to everyone, especially me. As much as we’ve all tried to do right by your family and the concert, it would really brighten spirits to see you. To hear you sing the songs your parents loved.” Victoria ran her hand over Noel’s cheek, tears glittering in her eyes. “I know the Christmas Concert holds painful memories for you, but the good ones should outweigh the bad. I’m sure it would do your parents proud.”

A shaky breath escaped her. “Maybe, if they were here. But they’re dead. They died on the way to their beloved concert. Instead of staying in Boise overnight and waiting out the storm, they tried to make it on time. Only they didn’t make it at all.”

“I hope you aren’t blaming them for the accident.”

“Of course not,” Noel snapped.

Victoria’s eyes widened with hurt, but she didn’t reprimand her. Instead, she patted her hand and urged her. “Just think about it, all right? I know it probably feels as though I am springing this on you, but it’s been ten years. With Nick being home, we have so much to celebrate, and I feel like it’s time we remind the town why this concert is so special. Your family is a huge part of that, but if you really don’t want to participate, I will let the matter drop.”

Noel cradled her tea cup in her hands, searching for something to say. Ten years of avoiding the Christmas concert and all reminders of the night her parents died. Ten years and it was still as fresh as if it were yesterday. The pain hadn’t eased. She’d just pushed it to the back of her mind.

Even the counselor Victoria and Chris sent her to hadn’t been able to open her up. In all honesty, she probably would have shut down completely if it hadn’t been for Nick, Gabby, and the rest of them.