Chapter 20
TWENTY
LIAM
Liam had to admit, it felt good to be packing up his hiking gear that morning.
Sure, they weren’t going backpacking in the mountains.
It was just a hike around the beautiful glacier lake in Maple Falls.
Maybe a little bit of elevation, nothing too hard for his hamstring, but it felt good to get out of the downtown area and into the fresh, open air.
Everyone had agreed to meet at the trailhead and were already there when Liam pulled in with his truck.
The parking lot was covered in snow, at least a few inches deep.
The only treads in the lot were from their cars.
The trees were bare, except for the evergreens, their branches weighed down by thick blankets of snow, and the air was silent, except for the call of a blue jay in the distance.
Liam was glad to see Cassidy back to her full Christmas self, wearing a bright green wool coat and a red knit stocking cap. Her blonde hair was braided into two neat plaits, and she’d even woven woolen tinsel into them.
Muff was there too, wearing a bright green bow on her collar and waiting patiently for the hike to begin.
“Hot cocoa?” Cassidy offered, holding out a flask.
Liam grinned. “Of course,” he said, accepting it gratefully. He unscrewed the metal cap and took a swig. The warm, velvety liquid filled his mouth, and he shook his head. “You definitely have a winner here.”
“Coming from a chocolate snob, that is a compliment.” Cassidy pulled her stocking cap down further to cover her ears.
“I’ve got the granola bites!” Kit called, snapping her feet into a pair of snowshoes.
“You’re being pretty serious with this hike,” Liam said to Kit.
“Nah, I got them two years ago for Christmas and have never worn them. Figured if not today, when?” Kit laughed.
Kit had invited the new guy in town, Tyler, and his daughter, Emma. They arrived, hugs were exchanged, cocoa was passed round, and their group was complete.
Tyler was tall and broad-shouldered, his shaggy brown hair tucked beneath a knit beanie, a flannel jacket layered over a well-worn thermal. His easygoing grin made him instantly likable, the kind of man who felt like the solid center of any group.
Beside him, Emma practically bounced with each step, her pink snow boots leaving prints in the fresh powder, a rainbow pom-pom hat slightly askew on her head. She was around seven, with a sprinkle of freckles across her nose, her brown hair peeking out in messy braids.
As the group began the hike, they naturally paired off.
Zoe and Kit were up front, along with Tyler and his daughter, who insisted on walking Muff, while Madison and Zach brought up the rear.
Cassidy and Liam naturally fell in step together.
Jackson had been invited but Zoe told Liam he’d decided to pass.
That sounded more like his twin, keeping to himself, sticking close to the llamas, the work on the farm.
Zoe crouched beside a snow-covered shrub, brushing the frost off a cluster of red berries. “These are wintergreen. Totally edible—and they make a great tea, if you don’t mind a little minty tang,” she said, holding one up for the group to see.
Emma leaned in closer, her breath puffing clouds in the cold air. “Do they taste like gum?”
“Better,” Zoe said with a wink. “Nature’s version of it, anyway.”
As they continued along the path, Zoe pointed out more hidden treasures beneath the snow—dried pine needles perfect for fire starters, bark that could be peeled for tinder, and mosses that held onto water in a pinch.
Snowflakes began to fall as they continued their hike. While Zoe talked about foraging for winter eats, Liam and Cassidy gradually fell further behind the group.
“Is your leg okay?” Cassidy asked, hoping the hike wasn’t pushing him too hard.
“Yeah, this is helping actually. I probably should’ve started stretching more last week. I’m glad you suggested it.”
“I figured it would do us both some good.”
The snow started to fall faster, the flakes growing fat and heavy, drifting down in slow spirals. It clung to the tops of their hats and settled in the folds of their scarves, the world around them going quiet under the hush of fresh snowfall.
He watched as a dusting of snow caught in Cassidy’s long blonde hair, the strands curling around her flushed cheeks. She looked like something out of a winter postcard, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright.
“Last Christmas was pretty rough for me,” she said after a while, interrupting Liam’s thoughts. “I’d been in Paris for years, but I decided I needed a fresh start.” Her voice was soft as the group ahead drifted out of earshot. “I don’t know if you know, but I grew up in Hope Valley, not far away.”
“You said something about being nearby. I didn’t realize it was that close.”
Cassidy nodded. “I’d always planned on coming back to the Midwest one day, but I wasn’t exactly sure where. My brother and I were raised by my grand-maman—she was French,” she explained. “After my parents died.”
“I didn’t realize… about your parents.”
“I was young. Almost nine.” Her voice softened. “It was a car accident. Christmastime. We were all in the car. My brother was the only one who walked away unscathed.” She looked down. “I spent quite a bit of time in the hospital.”
His chest tightened. He pictured her, small and fragile, hair in messy braids, curled up in a too-big hospital bed while she stared out the window, waiting for parents who would never walk back through that door.
And God, hadn’t he been there too?
Different year, but same season. Same unbearable silence on the other end of a phone call. He knew the way grief carved its name into your bones, how it changed the shape of a holiday forever.
It wasn’t just a coincidence between them—that they’d both lost loved ones in a car accident—it was a thread, however painful, that connected something deep and unspoken.
“You don’t have to…” he said gently, his voice lower, rougher, not wanting her to feel she had to share it all, even though part of him wanted to know everything.
“I know,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I guess… I just wanted you to know more about me.”
He swallowed, realizing that she was being vulnerable with him and not knowing if he could ever return the favor.
He wondered if she knew about Avery.
Was that why she was telling him this?
He wanted to ask, but something held him back.
Fear, probably. Fear of reliving his pain, of having to face it.
He looked at her, really looked.
She’d lost everything that mattered during the holidays. And yet, somehow… she’d found a way to love this time of year anyway.
He just wasn’t sure he could do the same.
“Anyway,” Cassidy said, forcing a lightness back into her voice, “that’s my sad backstory. But it was when I was in the hospital that my grand-maman introduced me to our family’s spiced cocoa. And the rest, like they say, is history.”
Liam didn’t say anything. He was too busy thinking how alike they were, both using lightness to soften the pain. He did it all the time.
They both knew what it was to lose someone suddenly and too soon, and to have Christmas forever marked by their absence. For every December 25th to feel bittersweet.
She was watching him, waiting for him to say something.
“Did your grand-maman teach you French? Or did you learn it in Paris? You’re fluent, right?” he asked finally, remembering what he’d heard from the locals.
Cassidy nodded. “J’ai adoré vivre à Paris… jusqu’au jour où je suis rentrée chez moi et j’ai trouvé mon petit ami au lit avec une autre femme.”
“Should I be concerned that sounded both beautiful and terrifying?”
“Paris was great… until I came home one afternoon and found my boyfriend in bed with another woman.” She gave a tight smile, then muttered under her breath, “Le salaud.”
“Loo saloo?”
She looked up at him, eyes glittering. “The bastard.”
Liam’s hands balled into fists, his knuckles cracking in his gloves. “Sounds fitting.”
Cassidy nodded. “Don’t worry, I got back at him.”
“How?”
“I took the espresso machine.”
“I highly doubt—”
“Oh no, he loved that thing more than me.”
He let out a short laugh, but it faded quickly. She was joking, but he could see it in her eyes—the asshole had hurt her. Deeply.
Cassidy looked down, toying with the zipper of her coat, her breath catching before she forced herself to continue.
“It shouldn’t still bother me, but it does.
It wasn’t just that he cheated. He made me feel small, you know?
Like every dream I had was silly. Like I was lucky just to be with him, and I should be grateful for the scraps of attention he threw my way.
Every time I got excited about something—about a recipe or trying out a new flavor combination—he’d laugh, call it childish, tell me I didn’t have what it took. ”
Her fingers tightened on the zipper, knuckles whitening. “And the worst part is, I believed him. For a long time.”
Liam’s jaw tightened. He hated knowing some smug, pretentious prick had made her doubt her worth.
She’d had her heart shattered by a man who didn’t deserve her, but she still believed in love and the goodness in people anyway. She loved fiercely, lived boldly, and didn’t let grief or betrayal make her bitter.
She was the kind of woman who would open her shop early if she saw someone waiting in the cold, who would deliver cocoa to the local snowplow crew before sunrise, who would remember your favorite chocolate even if you’d only mentioned it once.
She faced the world with hope, even when it had let her down.
She deserved someone who saw that, who cherished that, who would protect her bright, unbreakable spirit instead of dimming it.
Liam didn’t know if he could be that man.
But in that moment, watching her stand there in the falling snow, her eyes meeting his with that quiet strength…
God, he wanted to try.