Chapter 43
SADIE
I fight my suitcase, trying to get enough leverage to lift it onto the luggage rack. Behind me, a man reaches down, grabbing the case from my hands.
“Let me help you.”
“Thanks.” I turn over my shoulder, smiling at the kind British man. “I was struggling.”
“No problem.”
I glance down at my ticket, checking my seat number on the train. I splurged and paid for a first-class ticket on the Glacier Express. Worth it when you consider I’ll be spending eight hours on here today, traveling through the most scenic snow-capped mountains in the world. Every seat has a good view, but the first-class seats are individual—just two chairs facing each other—and since I’m a single, that seemed like a better option than being forced to sit in a group of four.
My assigned seat is in the middle of the cart, which feels like the perfect spot on this iconic train ride. I shove my bag under my chair and sit, already enjoying the snowy views out my window even though we haven’t left the station yet.
Switzerland at Christmas is as magical as I imagined. It’s everything I hoped it would be. My eyes drift to the empty seat in front of me, but I don’t allow them to stay. Going into this trip, I knew I’d be solo and was totally okay with that. My mom worries enough for both of us, so I don’t have to. She wanted to turn my trip into a family vacation, mostly because she didn’t like the idea of me traveling alone or skiing for the first time since my accident. Understandable. But she’ll be happy to learn I haven’t actually skied yet. Only got all dressed in my new pink ski outfit and rode the gondola up and down the mountain an embarrassing number of times. Baby steps. Maybe next time, I’ll be able to ski down the hill.
A man passes by in the aisle, his cologne wafting down to me. Flashes of Nash bounce through my head—at the hospital, comforting me the night I slept at the brownstone, our first kiss on the pier by the Christmas tree, building a snowman in Clift Park. The smell of that cologne instantly brings him to the front of my mind.
I glance up, and my breath catches.
The build, the hair, the flannel jacket—it all fits.
My head cranes, and I even lift out of my seat to see if I can see his face better. Each millisecond that I don’t know for certain pounds into my chest through every heartbeat. Hope grows, and I know if it’s not him, I’ll be so disappointed.
His feet stop, and his head turns to the side, checking the seat numbers above the chairs.
I see the stubble and the jawline, and my world stops. An overwhelming feeling I can only describe as complete joy washes over me.
He turns, walking back to my row, stopping to study the number above the chair across from me. Butterflies send my stomach into an absolute frenzy of happiness—something akin to love at first sight, which is crazy considering everything that’s happened between us—everything I didn’t feel a year ago.
And now we’re here in Switzerland, at the same time, on the same train, sitting across from each other. My heart pounds with thoughts of fate and meant-to-be, fresh starts and second chances. The idea almost makes me burst into happy tears.
Then it hits me.
What if Nash isn’t alone?
Disappointment seeps in as I quickly glance behind me. There isn’t a beautiful woman anywhere to be found. It’s just us.
I watch as he removes his flannel jacket and shoves it into his bag. Next, he pulls out some AirPods and a book. I move my head to read the title, A Christmas Carol , by Charles Dickens. I can’t help my smile. He pushes his bag under his chair and then sits, looking at me for the first time.
Green eyes widen with wonder, like he’s enchanted or maybe just in shock.
“I’m Sadie Bradley.” I smile, extending my hand to him. “I just thought I should introduce myself since we’ll ride this train together for the next eight hours.”
He stares at my hand before bringing his gaze back to my face. The furrow between his brows says he’s unsure if I’m real or a figment of his imagination, but he takes my hand anyway, surging warmth through my body.
His lips lift. “Nash Carter.”
I love that he decided to play my game too. Our hands don’t drop, just shake over and over between us.
“It’s nice to meet you, Nash.”
“Same to you, Sadie.”
Reluctantly, we break apart, both still smiling at each other.
“I actually think we’ve already met,” he says with some amusement.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, on the gondola yesterday. You were riding back and forth.”
“That was you?”
“It was.”
How he put that together is beyond me. I bite my lip, trying to keep calm.
“Did you ever ski down the mountain?”
“No.” A sudden rush of moisture pricks my eyes, but I blink it away. “You see, I was in a terrible skiing accident a little over a year ago and was trying to get back on the slopes and face my fears.”
“I’m sorry about your accident.”
“I am too.” We sit in that feeling for a moment before I push a smile onto my lips. “But I’m doing much better now. I finally feel like myself again. That’s why I’m here in Switzerland. I’m doing the things that I love for me, not for anyone else.”
“So you’re here alone?”
“I am.” I watch how my answer immediately makes his smile glow. “And what about you? Are you alone?”
He nods, trying his hardest to suppress a smile.
“That’s good.” We both laugh a little, still trying to wrap our heads around this twist of fate.
Nash leans back, relaxing in his chair, and it’s the best sight I’ve seen. I didn’t know how much I missed this steady, confident man. “So tell me about yourself, Sadie.”
“Well, I’m from Skaneateles, New York.”
“Hmm.” He nods in appreciation. “I love it there. Especially at Christmastime.”
“I noticed your book. A real classic.”
“My reading choice was inspired by your hometown and their charming Dickens Christmas. I have some amazing memories there.”
“So do I.”
We both puff out another laugh.
“And what do you do in Skaneateles?”
“I run a home health and hospice.”
His brows lift in interest. “You run it?”
“I do.” I beam with pride. “It was my father’s company, but he’s retired and left it to me.”
“That’s great.”
I see in his eyes that he really does think it’s great.
“What about you? Where are you from?”
“Originally from Chicago, but more recently, I’ve been traveling a lot.”
“What about your job?”
“I had a one-stop shop healthcare staffing business, but this year, we went public, and I sold most of my shares to a private equity firm.”
“You did?” It’s my turn for shock. “Wasn’t that hard to let something go that you loved so much?”
His head tilts, and his eyes stare straight into mine. “I’ve done it before with something I loved even more, so I knew I could handle it.”
The meaning strikes my heart, and we’re back to staring at each other with so many shared experiences floating between us.
An announcement in a different language comes over the speaker, causing us to glance up.
“I think we’re leaving,” I say.
“I think so.”
“You’re riding the train for the whole time, right? To Zermatt?” I don’t want my words to sound too hopeful—or maybe I do. Maybe Nash and I are past games and pretenses.
“Yeah, I’m here for the duration.”
The whistle blows outside, and the train begins to move.
Excitedly, I lean toward the window, watching as the station passes by.
I turn to Nash, but he’s already staring at me.
He has the same look of complete acceptance in his eyes. After all this time, Nash is still the one person who I can be myself with—flaws and all—and he accepts me no matter what.
It’s a gift I took for granted last year.
I won’t make the same mistake again.