Chapter 30 Icy What You Did There
icy what you did there
Holly
With the ice-carving contest wrapping up, Holly looped her arm through Ivar’s as they collected his nephews and began the walk back toward the inn.
The boys ran ahead, bounding through the snow on a sugar high, their laughter echoing down the street, reminding her of that easy kind of happiness she’d shared with her siblings.
Around them, the crowd had thinned to clusters of families lingering near the cocoa stand. Laughter still drifted through the air, and the occasional comment about the snowball fight left her smiling.
Then, a flash of red snagged her attention.
A little girl, no more than six, came rushing through the crowd, a potted poinsettia clutched awkwardly in her mittened hands. The pot was too large for her small arms, and as she hurried past, her boot caught on an uneven patch of snow. The slip was so quick it made Holly gasp.
The girl tumbled forward with a startled cry. The poinsettia flew from her grasp, hitting the ground with a dull crack. The main stem snapped clean through, the vibrant red leaves scattered across the snow.
“My flower!” the girl wailed, tears immediately welling in her eyes. “It’s broken! I bought it for Grandma with my own money!”
Holly’s instinct was to reach for the girl, but Ivar was already there, crouching down to her level.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently. “Let’s take a look.”
Holly watched as he gathered the fallen plant, his hands steady and careful as he nestled the broken stem back into the pot. What happened next made her breath catch.
As Ivar’s fingers brushed the broken stem, a subtle shimmer—like heat rising from summer pavement—rippled across the plant. The stem straightened, its severed edges knitting together seamlessly. The scattered leaves perked up, their color deepening from pale to vibrant red.
The girl’s tears stopped abruptly. “You fixed it!” she exclaimed, taking the pot from him with reverent care.
“There you go,” Ivar said with a warm smile. “It just needed to be put back in its soil. Plants are tougher than they look.”
The child beamed, hugging the pot to her chest before scampering off toward an elderly woman waiting by the raffle booth.
Holly stared at him, her mind racing. “How did you do that?” she asked quietly.
Ivar turned, brow furrowed. “Do what?”
“Fix that plant.”
“I didn’t fix it,” he said, brushing soil from his palms. “I repotted it.”
“Ivar,” Holly said carefully, “the stem was completely broken. Snapped in half.”
He looked genuinely confused. “No, it wasn’t. It just lost a couple of leaves. The stem was bent, not broken.”
Holly studied his face, searching for any sign that he was aware of what had happened. There was nothing but calm confusion.
A chill that had nothing to do with the winter air ran through her. She’d been so focused on the Hales that she hadn’t fully considered what was happening with Ivar. The tree. The cardinals. And now this.
While that experience under the tree had changed them both—how could it not?
—something in him had changed. He had changed.
There was a confidence, a contentedness, that was almost contagious when he was near.
And that light in his eyes that drew her in…
she should have paid more attention since that day in the forest.
She’d never been one to study magic, never curious about its origins. She used it when it was needed, never questioning where it came from. But Ivar hadn’t been born into it. He’d gone into the forest as an ordinary man and walked out with an ancient magic flowing through him.
She didn’t press Ivar further, not wanting to alarm him. Instead, she pulled out her phone and typed a quick message to her brother.
Holly: Call me tonight. Urgent.
***
By the time they reached the inn, daylight had faded behind the ridge, leaving the snow-covered world washed in lavender and silver. The boys waved as they ran back to their house while Holly and Ivar stepped inside.
Liv looked up from refilling a tray of cookies. “There you are! I was starting to wonder if you two had snuck off to join the carvers.”
“Tempting,” Ivar said, pulling off his gloves. “But I value my fingers too much.”
“Speak for yourself,” Holly added. “Some of those carvers had serious skill. There was a dragon. A slightly lopsided dragon, but still.”
“I saw that taking shape before I had to come back here.” Liv grinned and motioned them toward a table near the fire. “Hot cocoa’s on the house tonight. You both earned it. And I want a full report.”
Holly sat, grateful for the warmth that sank into her bones. “It went well. Rowan was lovely. She talked to all the carvers, took pictures with the kids, and helped hand out cookies. She admitted that the reason she’s supporting Chad on this project is to grow close to him again.”
“Oh,” Liv said, placing a hand over her heart. “That is so sweet. I just wish they could find a project to work on that didn’t destroy the forest. And what about Chad?”
“Ask Emma,” Ivar said.
“Emma?”
“There was flirting.”
“I’ll definitely ask her then,” Liv said, pouring steaming cocoa into mugs. “So maybe your plan will work.”
Holly smiled into her cup. “For what it’s worth, Rowan genuinely likes it here. You can see it in her eyes.”
Liv’s smile softened. “Then she’s the key to reaching Chad.”
The room quieted, the only sounds being the pop of the fire and the clink of mugs.
Holly’s gaze drifted to the window, where a paper snowflake hung, turning slowly in the warm air.
For a moment, she imagined the roots of the Yule Tree stretching beneath the earth in a luminous web, as intricate and singular as that snowflake.
She could almost feel its pulse. Not inside her, but between them.
She remembered the subtle shift in the air when she and Ivar joined hands at the Carnival, and the snowball fight ensued.
That hadn’t been typical Santa magic. It had been something else.
Something shared? Because Ivar had magic of his own?
“Anyway,” Liv said, breaking the silence, “the next event we have them in is the Tree Hunt. If we can convince the Hales to join in—not just to judge—that might seal it. Show them the heart of this town.”
Holly nodded. “What exactly happens at a tree hunt?”
Liv brightened. “Oh, it’s the best tradition. Everyone pairs up in teams and searches the forest for the perfect Christmas tree. There’s snacks, sleigh bells, friendly competition. The mayor gives out a trophy for ‘Best Tree,’ but mostly it’s just fun.”
Ivar leaned closer, his shoulder brushing hers as he lowered his voice. “We’re definitely winning that trophy.”
“Oh really? Confident much?” she teased.
“I’m the ranger,” he murmured. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Ivar,” Liv said, “would you mind grabbing the boys? I don’t feel like cooking tonight, so they can have dinner here. They’re probably stuffed with maple candy and popcorn, but I’d like to get a vegetable or two into them.”
“Sure thing,” he said, grabbing his coat.
“I could have texted them,” Liv said once he was gone, “but I wanted to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“What you’ve done for my brother. I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but he’s changed since you got here.
He never joins trivia night, he always avoids the carnival, and he’s never participated in the Tree Hunt.
Yet he just said you’re going to win. He’s become a different person.
Thank you. He’s got a spark I thought I’d never see again. ”
Holly didn’t know what to say. She stared into her mug, watching the tiny ripples fade. “We’re a good team,” she said softly. “He’s helped me too. My entire life has focused on work; he’s reminded me how to have fun.”
They were a good team. She felt it in every glance that lingered too long, every unspoken thought that seemed to echo between them. But now she wondered if what bound them was truly theirs or if the magic itself had drawn them together.
Liv smiled, lifting her mug. “Well, I think you’ve given him a little Christmas spirit, and I’m glad for it. To new friends and whatever comes next.”
Holly clinked her cup to Liv’s, the smile lingering on her lips even as unease began to stir. Whatever comes next was starting to worry her.