Chapter 39
holly not-so-jolly
Holly
Holly lay in bed listening to the radiator pipes banging in the walls the way her heart banged against her chest.
Sleep had been restless. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the Yule Tree, felt the pulse that had connected them, and wondered if their bond was fate or choice. She’d yet to figure it out.
Eventually, she forced herself to get out of bed.
Her body hurt from heartache. Never had she experienced such deep emotional pain.
It would take everything she had to get through the day.
So, she decided she would simply move through the world and see what happened.
There was no job, no project, no plan, no mission, nothing. A completely unfamiliar way of being.
And as for Ivar and the dance? She would go. It meant something. She didn’t yet know what, but she hoped it wasn’t goodbye.
Downstairs, the inn was already alive with morning chatter. Liv spotted her immediately and hurried over, holding a comically large mug.
“I know how much you like your coffee,” Liv said, proudly presenting it. The mug read, Full of Holiday Spirit (and Coffee).
Holly attempted a laugh, hoping it sounded genuine. “You have no idea how perfect this is.”
“Oh, I think I do,” Liv said, filling it generously. “Watching you consume caffeine is basically a sport.”
Holly smiled into her cup. “You always know what people need,” she said softly.
Liv shrugged. “That’s just small-town intuition. Speaking of which—a little bird told me you’re going to the dance tonight.”
“With your brother,” Holly admitted.
“Good,” Liv said. “You should. You two… it’s like you found something most people spend years looking for.” She tilted her head. “But you’ll be heading home soon, right?”
Holly hesitated. “Yes. Eventually.”
“Are you going to do the long-distance thing? You know, I don’t even know where you’re from?”
“A bit north. But I’m not worried about the distance. I have a lot of air miles.” That was the least of her worries with Ivar.
“Well, good. Because I’ve never seen two people connect faster than you two. It was like,” she made a jagged chopping gesture with her hand, “lightning.”
“It certainly was.”
“Well, I better throw another pot on. See you later.”
Holly grabbed a pastry and returned to her room, bucket of coffee in hand. The first thing she did was take a picture of the mug and send it to Rita.
Then, before she could lose her nerve, she called her parents and let them know about Christmas. She wasn’t sure if she’d be here in Winterwood, because if she couldn’t get past the reason for their connection, what future did they have?
Luckily, Henry had filled them in on the whole Giver / Guardian thing, so they understood.
Then they just acted like parents. Was she eating right?
Sleeping? Staying warm? She answered them honestly.
She was healthier. Her watch rarely beeped, she was sleeping better, and while she hadn’t quit coffee, she’d at least quit espressos.
As soon as she hung up, Holly switched it to silent in anticipation of a flurry of messages from cousins and siblings. And if Ivar texted, she’d know.
With hours remaining until the dance, she bundled up and stepped into the crisp air, following the sound of carolers through the square.
She bought a few small gifts. Maple candy for Liv’s boys, and for Liv, a reindeer that pooped jellybeans (if only).
She laughed out loud when she came across a dog bandana that read, “Snack Guardian,” and bought it immediately.
The day was sunny, the town beautiful, the people friendly, but without Ivar, nothing felt the same. Reminders of him were everywhere.
She was sitting on a bench, staring at the Christmas tree Ivar had somehow manifested when she saw Rowan and Chad enter the Maple Mug.
George gave them a wave as he walked by. Winterwood had definitely warmed up to them.
Something stirred in her mind, like puzzle pieces clicking into place, though she couldn’t quite see the full picture yet. Chad. Rowan. Cornelius. Keepers. The Guardian. The Yule Tree. Connection.
If anyone had become disconnected from the land, and from each other, it was Chad and Rowan.
What if this was about more than preserving the land? The Hales had been tied to it for generations. What if…
Her thoughts spun faster now. It sounded wild, maybe even ridiculous, but what if this journey wasn’t only about protecting the forest? What if it was also about healing the family bound to it and helping them find their way back to each other?
She texted Ivar, but there was no response. He was working and was likely busy, but she didn’t want to wait.
Without a plan, she entered the Maple Mug and found their table.
“Can I join you for a minute?”
“Of course.” Rowan smiled. Chad nodded.
“How are you feeling, Rowan?”
“Much better. I can’t believe I got lost. I thought I’d always know my way to the pond, but it’s been so long since I’ve been here. I guess I forgot.”
“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you both about.”
“The trail?”
“No,” Holly said gently. “The land and your absence from it. Your property is… special. This might sound strange, but hear me out. One of your relatives, Cornelius Hale, discovered how special it was and vowed to protect it. I don’t know how to explain this exactly, but Cornelius could feel the land.
It has a rhythm, and I think that sensitivity to it runs in your family. ”
Chad scoffed. “Who do you and Ivar think you are?”
“What do you mean?” Rowan asked.
“She’s trying to trick you, the way Ivar tried to trick me last night,” Chad said, though the color had drained from his face.
“Trick you?”
“Yes.” He leaned across the table toward his sister. “He kept trying to convince me that the forest was warning me of danger.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Rowan asked.
Chad exhaled, his voice quieting. “He knew about something that happened when I was a kid. Something no one should have known. I was playing in the forest, and something scared me. Ivar said the forest was protecting me from danger. Not trying to frighten me. It sounds insane, but he described everything right down to the color of my boots.”
“So someone lives in our forest?” Rowan asked.
“No,” Holly said softly. “It was the forest.”
Rowan frowned. “I still don’t understand.”
“Start by reading Cornelius Hale’s journals,” Holly said. “After that, either Ivar or I can answer your questions. Our families are connected, and one day, I’d like to tell you the full story.”
“Okay, I guess,” Rowan said, who was clearly still processing.
“There’s one more thing,” Holly added. “And maybe this is just small-town intuition”—she smiled, borrowing Liv’s phrase—“but you both belong here. Chad, you mocked that hometown feeling because you never really had it. Now’s your chance.
Stay in Winterwood for a while. Explore your family’s past. Reconnect with the town, and especially with each other.
Maybe that’s the project that brings you closer. ”
“You know, you and Ivar are something else,” Chad said to her, but there was no anger in his voice.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Holly stood, pushing in her chair.
Rowan reached for her hand. “Thank you for this.”
Holly squeezed Rowan’s hand back, hoping she’d made a difference. “You’re welcome.”
As she turned to leave, she used a bit of Santa magic so that, when Rowan and Chad glanced down at their lattes, the foam now held the faint outline of the Yule Tree. She hoped it would leave them in wonder and somehow serve as a reminder of what mattered most.
***
When she stepped through the inn’s front door, she was feeling a little lighter. She hadn’t solved Rowan and Chad’s problems, but maybe she’d given them a nudge in the right direction.
To her surprise, Liv was waiting with a mischievous grin and an armful of sweaters.
“Holly Kringle,” she declared, “you cannot attend the Winterwood Carnival Dance without proper Christmas attire.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Christmas sweaters are a must tonight. It’s tradition. So, you’re borrowing one of these.”
Holly looked over the selection. One was embellished with a moose tangled in lights, another with a grinning Santa that said Sleigh All Day. She couldn’t picture herself in either. If she had to wear a novelty shirt, she at least wanted one Ivar would appreciate.
“Oh,” she said suddenly. “I’ve got it.”
“You have one?” Liv asked.
“I do.” Or she would by tonight.
“You think you know a person,” Liv teased.
Holly raced up to her room and texted Rita.
Holly: I need a favor. How quickly can you get me a Christmas sweater?
Rita: For you?
Holly: Yes.
Rita: Where’s the real Holly Kringle and what have you done with her?
Holly: Very funny.
Rita: I think you know how fast I can get it for you. You wrote the procedure.
Holly: Perfect. Here’s what I want it to say.
Holly finished texting Rita, her smile lingering.
The sweater would say it all.
The answer had come to her as she left the cafe, thinking about wonder and what mattered most. The past few weeks with Ivar had been nothing but wonder. And when it came to what mattered most, it was love.
Ivar was her other half. Steady where she overthought. Patient where she pushed. She needed him. Wanted him. Loved him.
The fear that fate had chosen for her would probably always linger, but she could live with that. What she couldn’t live without was him.