Chapter Ten – Holly
Holly’s stomach twisted as they neared the school, too aware of how she must look, drowning in clothes that weren’t hers. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass Daniel and the children. Part of her ached to turn around and retreat to the safety of Daniel’s house, where none of this mattered.
But finding her place in their world beyond those four walls mattered more to her than anything right now.
“Holly, look at our snowflakes!” Teddy tugged at her hand, pointing toward the school windows where paper cutouts glittered in the morning light.
“They’re beautiful,” she managed, smiling down at him as they neared the building. How she loved these little people, who didn’t mind what she wore.
But her anxiety kicked up a notch as they approached the school building.
Parents clustered near the entrance, their conversations creating a gentle hum that seemed to pause as Holly approached with Daniel and the children.
She felt their eyes tracking her, some curious, others warmly welcoming, a few with raised eyebrows.
Her borrowed clothes might as well have been a flashing neon sign announcing her as an outsider, someone who didn’t belong.
She hunched her shoulders slightly, as if making herself smaller might somehow make her less noticeable.
“Morning, Daniel!” A woman with a bright yellow scarf waved. “How did you survive the storm?”
“We did okay, Sarah,” Daniel replied. “No power cuts. No trees down. We amused ourselves with board games and holiday movies.”
“And a blanket fort,” Maisie piped up. “Which Holly helped make.”
“Holly.” Sarah raised her eyebrow as she looked Holly up and down. But not in a judgmental way. But she sure was curious.
“She’s a princess,” Teddy replied matter-of-factly. “We rescued her from the storm.”
“Did you indeed?” The woman cast a strange look at Daniel, but didn’t push the subject further.
“Dad, we’re gonna be late!” Teddy bounced on his toes, pointing toward the school doors where a teacher stood welcoming students.
“Right, let’s get moving.” Daniel placed a gentle hand on Holly’s lower back, guiding her forward.
The contact, though brief, sent warmth spreading up her spine. She’d grown strangely accustomed to these small touches over the past days—his hand steadying her elbow, his fingers brushing hers as they passed coffee mugs, the solid warmth of his shoulder beside hers on the sofa.
Inside, the school hallway exploded with Christmas cheer. Garlands of tinsel framed classroom doorways. Construction paper, candy canes, and gingerbread men lined the walls. A small tree near the office sparkled with handmade ornaments, each bearing a child’s name in wobbly letters.
It was beautiful, festive, and utterly overwhelming. Holly felt painfully out of place among the other parents in their proper winter boots and coordinated scarves, with their easy familiarity with the teachers and each other.
“Mrs. Brooks!” A young teacher with a holiday sweater approached them, then paused.
“Oh, I’m not…” Holly shook her head as color flooded her cheeks.
“Oh, I’m sorry—I just assumed...” The teacher shrugged apologetically.
“This is Holly,” Daniel said smoothly. “She’s staying with us for a while.”
The assumption sent a jolt through Holly’s system—the teacher had thought she was Daniel’s wife, the children’s mother. And the sudden thought hit her. That was what she wanted more than anything in the world.
“Nice to meet you,” Holly managed, painfully aware of how the sweatpants bunched around her ankles. Not a great first impression.
“Holly’s going to help me decorate the cookies for the class Christmas party,” Maisie announced proudly, slipping her hand into Holly’s.
“I can’t wait to see them!” The teacher beamed. “And taste them. Now come on, let’s get to class.”
After hugs and goodbyes, Holly and Daniel made their way back through the hallways. She could feel his attention on her even without looking. She loved the way he slowed his pace to match hers, how he angled his body slightly to shield her from the busiest parts of the hallway.
“You okay?” he asked quietly as they stepped back into the bright winter morning.
“Fine,” Holly said automatically, then caught herself. “Actually, I’m a little...”
“Overwhelmed?” Daniel supplied, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.
Holly nodded, relieved at being understood without having to explain.
“You’re doing great, you know,” he said, his voice so sincere it made her throat tighten. “The kids adore you.”
“And I adore them. It’s just…” She held out her arms. “I look like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s life.”
Daniel chuckled, and Holly shook her head as she joined in. That’s what she loved about him—his ability to lighten a situation. “Come on. Let’s fix that.”
Instead of heading toward the truck parked at the curb, Daniel gently steered her in a different direction, his hand returning to the small of her back.
“Where are we going?” Holly asked, glancing up at him. “I thought we were heading to the bakery?”
“Not yet.” His voice carried a quiet certainty that somehow made her feel safer. “There’s something we need to do first.”
They walked two blocks down Main Street, past storefronts decorated with garlands and lights.
Bear Creek looked like a Christmas card come to life—lampposts wrapped in evergreen boughs, wreaths on every door, fresh snow glittering on rooftops.
The people of Bear Creek certainly seemed to go all in for Christmas.
Daniel stopped in front of a small boutique with a bay window. A plush velvet reindeer stood among artfully arranged sweaters and scarves, fairy lights twinkling overhead. The hand-painted sign read “Pine it was necessity. Still, as Elaine led her toward a rack of jeans, Holly felt a strange mixture of gratitude laced with vulnerability.
She wasn’t used to a stranger helping her out like this.
But then, did she really see Daniel as a stranger anymore?
No. In some ways, she felt she knew him better than any other person in her life.
“What’s your usual size, dear?” Elaine asked.
Such a simple question, yet it returned Holly to solid ground. This was familiar—shopping, sizes, fabrics. Normal life things that had nothing to do with runaway brides or snowstorms or the confusing warmth she felt whenever Daniel looked at her.
After she answered, Elaine selected several pairs, then guided her toward sweaters in rich winter hues. “Try these. The dressing room’s just through there.”
Holly carried the small stack into the dressing room, closing the door with a soft click.
For a moment, she simply stood there, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Her hair fell in waves around her face, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold outside.
Daniel’s sweater hung off one shoulder, making her look smaller than she was.
She changed into the first pair of jeans, sighing with relief as they buttoned comfortably around her waist. No more holding up too-large sweatpants with one hand. She pulled on a cream-colored sweater next, the soft wool warming her skin.
There. The woman in the mirror looked more like herself—or maybe a new version of herself. Someone who belonged in this snowy small town with its Christmas decorations and friendly shopkeepers.
A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
“Holly?” Daniel whispered. “Elaine thought you might like to try this too.”
She opened the door a crack. Daniel stood there holding a coat in a deep Christmas red, the kind of rich, vibrant shade that seemed to capture the essence of the holiday season.
“It’s beautiful,” she said honestly, reaching out to touch the soft wool.
“Try it on,” he encouraged.
Holly slipped the coat over her shoulders, the weight of it settling comfortably around her.
It fit perfectly, nipping in slightly at the waist before flaring gently over her hips.
She turned to the mirror, startled by her reflection.
The color brought warmth to her face, making her eyes seem brighter.
“What do you think?” Daniel asked from the doorway. His expression was impossible to read.
“It’s perfect,” she admitted. “But probably too expensive…”
“It’s Christmas,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “And it looks like it was made for you.”
There was something in his voice—a roughness, a catch—that made her turn to look at him more closely. The way he was looking at her made her chest feel tight, her breath coming quicker.
“Thank you,” she said, the words inadequate for the feeling growing inside her.
They selected boots next—practical brown leather that would handle Bear Creek’s snowy sidewalks—and a soft scarf in cream and gold that Elaine insisted brought out the highlights in Holly’s hair.
Each item felt like a piece of armor being assembled, preparing her to face the world as someone who belonged here.
When they finally approached the register, Holly expected to feel uncomfortable as Daniel paid. Instead, there was a strange intimacy to the moment. He was providing for her needs without making her feel like a charity case.
“I’ll pay you back,” she promised as they left the store, bags in hand.
“I know you will.” He smiled at her in a way that made her feel that she already had. And not with cash.