Chapter Twenty – Sarah
The sleigh ride had left Sarah’s face tingling with cold, but the blood pumping through her veins was hot. All thanks to Michael. The expert sleigh driver who had saved the day!
As Michael helped Emmy down from the sleigh, his strong hands steady and sure, Sarah was eternally thankful to him for transforming Emmy’s afternoon from potential heartbreak into something magical.
“That was the best sleigh ride ever!” Emmy announced, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold and excitement. “You are an expert sleigh driver. Way better than my dad would have been.”
Sarah’s throat tightened at Emmy’s words. The fact that her daughter was trying to make herself feel better about Liam’s no-show only made the ache deeper. She kneeled down and adjusted Emmy’s scarf, using the moment to compose herself.
“I’m glad you had fun, sweet pea,” she said, tugging her daughter’s hat down onto her head.
Michael busied himself, thanking Nolan for helping them out when they had arrived so late. Sarah watched him, unable to stop the flutter in her stomach. He’d saved the day without making a fuss, without expecting anything in return. Just because he cared.
When was the last time someone had done something like that for her?
“Mom?” Emmy tugged at her sleeve. “Maisie wants to know if I can come over to her house. Can I? Please?”
Sarah turned to see Maisie standing nearby, hope written across her face. “If it’s okay with her dad.”
“Of course,” Daniel said. “We’re making gingerbread houses, and Maisie has been badgering me to invite Emmy over since they met.”
“Please, Mom?” Emmy clasped her hands together. “I would love to make a gingerbread house.”
Sarah hesitated, glancing at Michael, who was now walking back toward them. The Christmas market in Wolf Valley...they’d had to cancel because of Liam’s no-show. But now, with Emmy happily occupied...
“I can drop her home before dinner,” Daniel added. “Around six, if that works?”
“That would be perfect,” Sarah said, making her decision. “Thank you for including her.”
Emmy squealed with delight and threw her arms around Sarah’s waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re welcome, sweet pea.” Sarah hugged her back, breathing in the scent of her daughter’s shampoo mixed with winter air. “Be good for Daniel, okay?”
“I will!” Emmy promised, already edging toward Maisie, who was practically bouncing with excitement.
As Daniel led the girls toward his car, Sarah felt a momentary pang of separation anxiety. Not that she didn’t trust Daniel—he seemed wonderful, and Maisie clearly adored him—but letting Emmy out of her sight still triggered that instinctive maternal worry.
“They’ll have a great time,” Michael’s voice came from beside her, low and reassuring, as if he’d read her thoughts.
Sarah turned to find him standing closer than she’d expected. Close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, close enough to catch the scent of pine and something warmer, something uniquely him.
“I know,” she said, forcing herself to relax. “Emmy could use some friend time. With packing and the move and everything, she’s had to put up with me for company for too long.”
“I’m sure no one would complain about being in your company,” he murmured.
Sarah wasn’t sure how to answer that as they watched as Daniel’s car pull away, Emmy and Maisie waving frantically from the back seat. When the car disappeared around a bend in the road, an unexpected silence fell between them.
Michael cleared his throat. “So,” he said, hands in his pockets, suddenly seeming almost shy. “I know we had to cancel our plans for the Christmas market in Wolf Valley earlier...”
Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. “We did.”
“Would you still like to go?” He met her eyes directly, and the hopeful expression on his face made her pulse quicken. “It’s only about a thirty-minute drive, and we’d have plenty of time before Emmy gets back.”
The question hung in the air between them, laden with possibility. Sarah thought about the stack of chores waiting for her at home, the emails she should answer, boxes to unpack, the laundry that needed folding. All the responsible, sensible things she should be doing.
Then she thought about walking through a Christmas market with Michael, surrounded by lights and music and holiday cheer. Just the two of them.
“Yes,” she said, surprising herself with how easily the word came. “I’d like that very much.”
Michael’s smile bloomed slowly, transforming his entire face. The tension in his shoulders visibly relaxed, and Sarah realized he’d been genuinely worried she might say no.
That she might have changed her mind and not want to spend time alone with him.
“Great,” he said, the single word carrying more warmth than it had any right to. “Let’s go.”
As they walked toward his vehicle, she had an intense sense of freedom. For the first time in a long time, she was putting herself and her happiness first.
And it felt wonderful.
Michael’s truck wound its way through the mountains, the road a ribbon of cleared asphalt cutting through pristine snow.
Sarah watched the landscape through the passenger window, mesmerized by how the afternoon sun caught on ice-laden branches and transformed ordinary pines into crystalline sculptures.
“It’s like driving through a snow globe,” she murmured, her breath fogging the glass slightly.
Michael glanced over at her, his profile strong against the backdrop of white mountains. “Wait until you see Wolf Valley at sunset. The whole place glows.”
The warmth in his voice made Sarah’s chest tighten with anticipation. She leaned back in her seat, stealing glances at his hands on the steering wheel—steady, capable hands that had guided the sleigh with such confidence earlier. The same hands that had lifted Emmy down with gentle care.
How she longed to feel those warm hands on her skin. Touching, teasing, stroking…
She swallowed down her longing. What if Michael didn’t feel the same way? What if he was simply being friendly, seeking companionship?
But those thoughts were swept away as they crested the final ridge before Wolf Valley came into view. Sarah gasped at the sight. The valley below was already lit for evening, thousands of twinkling lights creating a golden pool nestled between snow-covered peaks.
“Oh,” she breathed, unable to find more adequate words.
Michael slowed the truck, allowing her to take in the scene. “Pretty special, isn’t it?”
“It’s beautiful,” she managed, leaning forward in her seat to better see the panorama.
The town itself was something out of a storybook.
Old-fashioned buildings with peaked roofs now draped in snow, smoke curling from chimneys, and at its center, what looked like a village square transformed into a Christmas market.
Even from this distance, Sarah could see the colorful stalls and the towering Christmas tree at its heart.
Michael navigated the winding descent with practiced ease, finding a parking spot on a side street just a short walk from the market. As they stepped out of the truck, the air felt different here, crisper somehow, carrying the scent of wood smoke and spices.
“Ready?” Michael asked, coming around to her side.
Sarah nodded. This was the first time she’d done something like this—something just for herself—since moving to Bear Creek. Since long before the divorce, if she was being honest. It felt kind of scary. Kind of exciting.
But she could think of no other place, no other person, she would like to be with at this moment.
They walked side by side toward the growing sounds of music and laughter. With each step, the market came more fully into view until they turned a final corner and Sarah stopped in her tracks.
The entire square had been transformed into an old-world Christmas market that could have been plucked straight from Bavaria.
Wooden stalls with peaked roofs lined cobblestone paths, each one decorated with evergreen boughs and twinkling lights.
Vendors in traditional dress sold everything from hand-carved ornaments to woolen mittens.
The scent of gingerbread and mulled wine filled the air, mingling with the crisp pine of fresh wreaths.
“What do you think?” Michael asked, watching her face with an intensity that made her cheeks warm despite the cold.
“It’s magical,” Sarah replied honestly. “Like stepping into another world.”
They wandered among the stalls, stopping to admire intricate glass ornaments, sample cheese from a local dairy, and watch a woodcarver create tiny forest animals with deft flicks of his knife. Sarah relaxed into the experience, the weight of responsibility temporarily lifted from her shoulders.
At a stall selling handmade candles, Sarah picked up one labeled “Winter Forest” and inhaled deeply. The scent immediately reminded her of Michael’s tree farm—pine and cedar with something deeper beneath, earthy and real.
“This smells just like North Peak Pines,” she said, offering it to him.
Michael leaned in, his shoulder brushing hers as he smelled the candle. “Pretty close,” he agreed, his voice low near her ear. “Though I think we smell better.”
The teasing note in his voice made her laugh. “Well, you would say that. You’re biased.”
“Completely,” he admitted with a grin that made her heart skip.
They continued through the market until they reached a stall where steaming cups of mulled wine were being poured from a large copper pot. The rich aroma of cinnamon, cloves, and warm red wine enveloped them.
“Two, please,” Michael said to the vendor, already reaching for his wallet.
“You don’t have to…” Sarah began, but Michael shook his head.
“My invitation, my treat,” he insisted, handing her a cup wrapped in a festive napkin. “Besides, you can’t experience the Christmas market without proper Glühwein.”