Chapter 1 Nicole #2
“They offer the class to kids who got dogs for Christmas,” Benny said as he read the flyer.
“Listen! ‘Four- and two-legged students attend obedience basics followed by winter play and leash walks. Listen to a vet teach the How to Be a Good Dog Owner workshop. Best of all, Puppy Pals Social Hour with hot chocolate for humans and tiny biscuits for the dogs.’”
“Now that’s a great way to spend winter vacation,” Red said. “I think I’d like to go.”
“You can come with me, Grandpa!” Benny cooed, always ready to make room for his beloved great-grandfather.
“Oh, I think it’s for kids only,” Gracie said quickly. “But you can teach us all what you and, um, Crash learn.”
He looked up, the joy tempered by trepidation. “Lots of kids?” he asked, trying to sound casual but Nicole knew he wasn’t.
“Whoever got a dog for Christmas,” Nicole said, stealing a glance at Gracie.
They’d discussed Benny’s struggles with making friends, and this gift was meant to help that issue. Gracie knew it, but Benny had no idea there was an ulterior motive.
He accepted the answer and clutched the envelope to his chest, squishing the puppy, who didn’t mind. “We’re going to training school together, buddy! Just you and me!”
As one of the last gifts came out from under the tree, Nicole’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she winced at the interruption. She’d left her number on the door of the ski shed, the rental and sales business she ran here at Snowberry, in case anyone needed her.
Most of the lodge guests who wanted to ski today had picked up their equipment yesterday, so she didn’t expect to have to go to work on Christmas Day.
But someone from an unknown number asked if the Snowberry Lodge Adventure Shack was open for rentals, so she pushed up from her comfy seat.
“Be right back, fam,” she announced. “Duty calls. But do not pick a name without me, Benny!”
She slipped into the kitchen and hopped into her boots by the mudroom door. Grabbing her parka, she pulled on a stocking cap with a cheerful white tassel and stepped into the quiet bite of cold outside.
With this morning’s fresh powder over last night’s packed crust, the air felt unnaturally crisp and thin, like a perfect mountain morning.
The Snowberry Sleigh sat just off the drive, a thin mantle of white on its curved runners and red side panels. Her horse, Copper, was tucked inside the stable, having been brushed, fed, and blanketed when Nicole arrived from her townhouse early this morning.
She patted the sleigh’s rail as she passed, the paint smooth and cold, loving the old antique beast that had brought her father home—and kept him here.
Still smiling, she crossed the wide, plowed path and headed toward the ski shed, her kingdom and workplace. The old barn’s giant door was closed, with a man standing next to it, blowing into bare hands. As he turned, she caught sight of the red cross on the side of his jacket.
She came to a sudden stop and sucked in an icy breath when she realized that it was Cameron. Or, as she and her friend, Brianna, called him—“the hot ski patrol guy.”
What was he doing here, standing outside the shed, head tipped back to watch the lazy spirals of snow?
Not only was she surprised by that—but the reaction that danced through her whole body was a little shocking, too. She couldn’t fight her smile at the sight of him.
“Skiing emergency bring you all the way out here?” she called, taking careful steps so she didn’t face plant in front of him. Not that it would be the first time—he’d seen her take a few nasty falls as she learned to renegotiate the easiest runs at Deer Valley over the last few weeks.
He laughed, and even from a distance, his smile made her toes curl in her boots.
“My skis caught fire,” he joked. “No, wait, that was me on Daly’s this morning.” He touched his finger to his tongue, then his shoulder, and hissed. “Smokin’.”
She had to laugh, despite the interruption to her delightful morning. Mostly because it just got even more delightful.
“Of course you’d sail down Deer Valley’s toughest run,” she said. “You’re such a ski dude.”
“Why do I think that’s not a compliment?”
She came a little closer, feeling the impact of his deep blue eyes pinned on her. She’d only seen him twice in her life, but his eyes were unforgettable, and so was the just-a-little-too-long dirty blond hair that brushed the collar of his red ski parka.
“It’s just an observation,” she said. “What are you doing here on Christmas morning?”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, Nicole Kessler.”
He knew her last name? Oh, yes—he’d met her the first time with Dad, who he’d recognized. Was he here on Christmas morning…as a Jack Kessler fan?
Because that would be a bit of a disappointment.
“I saw your friend Brianna at Deer Valley this morning,” he explained. “She gave me a present.” He held out his phone. “Your number and place of business. I wasn’t sure if she was being real, so I decided to test the truth of both. Looks like your friend is honest.”
Somehow, she managed to play it cool, knowing Brianna was definitely skiing this Christmas morning. Her folks had gone to Sweden for the holidays and that girl chose the slopes over anything—even Christmas here at Snowberry Lodge.
“Yeah, well, Bri’s honest to a fault,” she said, “and frequently sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“I begged,” he said, the two words so sweet and humble and honest that her heart went shamelessly light.
“She also said you’d be with your family,” he added quickly.
“So if I’m intruding, say the word and I’m a streak in the snow.
I just—” He rubbed the back of his neck, the picture of a man who’d rather ski a double-black blindfolded than overshare feelings.
“After this morning’s early shift, which I just finished, I have the rest of the week off.
And I thought maybe if you had a sliver of time between your yuletide celebrations, we could… hang out?”
She laughed a little, thinking “yuletide” was more a word Benny or even Red would use, not this too-cool-for-school ski patrol boy. Well, not a boy. He looked to be in his late twenties or so, maybe a couple years older than Nicole.
“Bri said you’re off the rest of this week, too,” he added with a meaningful raise of a brow. “So…”
“She’s a menace,” Nicole muttered, laughing.
“Well?”
As if she’d say no. “I could be convinced,” she said, drawing the words out to at least pretend she wasn’t half panting at the idea.
“Tomorrow afternoon?” he suggested. “We could walk Main Street. Get hot chocolate. Secretly mock the tourists?”
“Who make both of our jobs possible,” she reminded him.
He tipped his head, suitably chastised. “No mocking, then. Just hot chocolate and a fine Park City vibe.”
She smiled and nodded. “Tomorrow works. I’ll meet you at Sugarfall.”
“The bakery?”
“My cousin Gracie owns it.”
“Whoa, perks. Yes, I’ll see you there at…one o’clock?”
“Perfect.” She let out a quick breath and gestured to the lodge behind her. “Do you want to meet my—”
He held up a hand and shook his head. “Not a chance I’m going to interrupt your Christmas. And some…one is waiting for me. See you tomorrow,” he said, a soft light in his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Nicole.”
“Merry Christmas,” she echoed.
He took a step backward, then another, as if he were reluctant to turn his back on her. Finally, he pivoted and jogged down the path, leaving boot prints in the layer of new snow.
Nicole closed her eyes and fought the urge to dance. Cameron was cute and sweet and, whoa, this Christmas kept getting better.
A minute later, she stepped back through the kitchen door. After taking off her boots and jacket but leaving her stocking hat on because it was silly and festive, she headed back to the living room. There, Benny stood in front of the coffee table like he was giving a TED talk.
“I have made my decision,” he announced, chin up, puppy perched on his forearm like a furry loaf with ears. “His official, legal, and forever name is Sir Isaac Newton.”
A beat of stunned silence, and then the room detonated into laughter and applause.
“Isaac Newton?” Red asked with a chuckle.
“Sir,” Benny confirmed, deadly serious. “The ‘Sir’ is important.”
Jack clapped his hands together once, delighted. “We can call him Newt for short. Or…Zach?”
Benny hugged the dog closer and shook his head vehemently. “No nicknames. He has a title. From the Queen. Or King. I don’t know but I’ll look it up on Grandpa’s new phone.”
“The one you’re not supposed to touch,” Red murmured into his coffee cup. “Because you lost the last one you weren’t supposed to touch in the snow.”
“Sir Isaac Newton it is,” Nicole agreed, because how could it be anything else?
She bent to kiss the top of Benny’s head. The puppy licked the air near her nose, woofed once, and swatted a playful paw at her stocking cap tassel.
“He’s going to graduate first in his class,” Benny said, his face the picture of seriousness. “Right, Sir Isaac Newton?”
“You’re gonna want to shorten that, Benny,” Gracie said. “That name is a mouthful.”
“Nope,” Benny said. “He’s a knight of the Cavapoo order.”
Laughter rolled around the room again, as warm and cozy as the fire and the mess of wrapping paper that no one bothered to worry about. Across the room, her father inched closer to her mother to say something in her ear, and Mom turned her face toward him.
Their noses were inches apart. Their hands were nearly touching. It was the kind of almost-kiss moment that could last forever or end in a heartbeat. And then—like the scene had been scripted by a benevolent universe—they both leaned that last inch and took that kiss.
Not deep or dramatic or embarrassing, just the soft, sure press of two people who’d circled back to the same page after a long time in the wrong chapter.
Joy rose in Nicole’s chest. She looked out the window and watched a single flake flutter and fall, landing on a pine branch.
It always snowed on Christmas morning, but this one, and the week ahead, felt so different from the rest. She couldn’t wait to find out why.