Chapter 21
Harper
The Holiday Banquet feels like a full-town reunion disguised as a dinner. Every table is decked out in pine garlands and gold ribbons, candles flickering beside handwritten name cards.
Ours says:
Harper & Ethan — Holiday Bride Couple
Ethan pulls out my chair before taking the seat beside me. My heart does that ridiculous flutter again. It’s annoying and persistent, impossible to ignore.
The meals are plated with roast turkey, cranberry chutney, fancy potato stacks. The atmosphere is warm and noisy, and despite myself, I enjoy it.
At first. Then the parade of questions begins.
“So how did you two meet?”
“Is it true you’re staying at the lodge’s honeymoon suite?”
“When did you realize you were in love?”
Ethan stiffens beside me, every muscle tightening like he’s bracing for impact. I try to answer politely, but after the fourth person asks if we want a spring wedding, I nearly choke on my cranberry chutney.
Ethan leans in, his breath warm near my ear. “You okay?”
I nod, though I’m not sure I convince anyone. “Just … overwhelmed.”
His hand slides under the table, finding my knee. A slow, steady pressure that grounds me. “I’m here — in this with you.”
Halfway through dessert, Mayor Janice calls out, “Harper, sweetheart! Would you and Ethan mind saying a few words about your week?”
My blood freezes. I am not a public speaker. I am a quiet-in-the-corner-until-I’m-needed person. I can talk about snow globes for days, but relationships?
Ethan stands before I can panic further. “We’d be happy to.”
We. He said we. And then he looks down at me and offers his hand. Like he knows — because he does. He gets me.
I take his hand—warm, firm, familiar now—and stand beside him near the front.
Ethan clears his throat. “I don’t have much to say,” he begins, which earns a laugh from the crowd. “But this week … it wasn’t what I expected.”
He glances at me, and something softens in his expression.
“I thought I’d be miserable,” he continues bluntly.
More laughter. He smirks.
“But it turns out … some surprises are good.”
Something inside me melts completely. He squeezes my fingers gently. And my voice—miraculously—finds itself.
“I’ve lived in this town most of my life,” I say softly. “I’ve always loved Cady Springs. But this week? It reminded me how much there is to appreciate—traditions, friends, community.” My eyes drift to Ethan. “And unexpected company.”
The crowd erupts in applause. Someone whistles. Someone else shouts, “They’re adorable!”
I want to crawl under the table. I also want to kiss Ethan in front of everyone. He leads me back to our seats, still not letting go of my hand. And for the rest of the banquet, he keeps it — through dessert, through conversations, through goodbyes.
When we finally slip outside, snow drifting softly around us, he turns to me.
“You were good up there,” he says. “Brave.”
“I was terrified,” I admit.
His lips tilt upward. “Me too.”
We stare at each other in the quiet, warm light of the windows behind us. I wonder if he’s falling just as hard as I am.