Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
LIAM
Cassidy’s door creaked open just as he reached it. She stepped outside, bundled in a white puffer coat, striped mittens, hair tucked into a knit hat, and that scarf Liam had returned to her yesterday. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. That look right there? It made the cold worth it.
“You’re punctual,” she said, voice bright as if she always woke up to go ice skating at dawn.
“I’m a man of my word,” Liam replied, handing over a cup. “I figured we could both use some coffee.”
Cassidy took it with a pleased smile. “You trying to bribe me into letting you win the competition?”
“Would it work?”
“Absolutely not.”
They walked side by side down the snowy street, boots crunching in sync. The world around them was a still, blue hush. Even the lake, when it came into view, looked asleep beneath its smooth sheet of ice.
As they approached, the first hints of sunrise kissed the horizon.
Pale gold bled into lavender and peach, casting soft light over the frozen water.
It shimmered like glass, rimmed with frost-laced branches and a few early birds darting overhead.
The rink was empty. Just them, the ice, and the slow, steady waking of the world.
Liam watched Cassidy take it all in, her breath fogging in the air. She turned to him with that look again—the one that made something in his chest pull tight.
“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the rental shed, already unlocking it with the spare key. “Time to show off my moves.”
“I should’ve stretched,” she muttered, lacing up her skates.
“You think you’ll be sore?” he asked, standing and offering a hand to help her up.
“I think I’ll be sore, humiliated, and possibly concussed.”
“I’ll try not to laugh. Much.”
Liam took off first, skating backward with practiced ease.
“Show-off,” Cassidy called, trying not to topple forward. She took one tentative step at a time, like a toddler learning to walk.
“More like years of hockey.” Liam skated toward her. “Here,” he said, taking both of her hands so that they were face to face. “I’ve got you.”
She gripped his hands tightly, cheeks flushed from the cold, or maybe, Liam thought, from something else.
He moved slowly, guiding her gently across the frozen lake, glancing over his shoulder now and then to make sure their path stayed clear.
“So, you played hockey?” Cassidy asked.
Liam found it impressive that she could carry on a conversation while trying not to lose her balance.
“I did,” Liam confirmed, navigating a backwards turn, pulling Cassidy along with him.
“Jackson, too?” Cassidy wobbled forward, nearly losing her footing.
“Zach and Jackson,” Liam replied, steadying her.
Cassidy tilted her head thoughtfully. “Jackson looks like a hockey player,” she decided.
Liam laughed at her unexpected comment. “Oh yeah? How so?”
“He’s the quiet type. You just know he’d rather solve things with his fists than talk it out.”
Liam chuckled. It seemed Cassidy understood her brother pretty well.
“What about you? Did you play any sports?” Liam turned, letting go of her hands for a moment so they skated side by side instead of face to face. “Is this okay?” he asked, noting Cassidy’s struggle to keep her balance.
She didn’t answer; she was too busy concentrating now, and Liam knew she’d fall any second.
Liam fell in step behind her. His hands slid gently to her waist, fingers curling around her coat. “Or how about this? Is this better?”
She let out a breathy laugh, her body relaxing ever so slightly against his. “Yeah,” she said. “This is better.”
They skated like that for a few moments. Their movements in sync. The world narrowed to just the two of them. Liam heard the ice scraping under their blades, felt the wind blow across his face and the heat of Cassidy’s skin under his fingertips.
He tried to focus on his breathing, the rhythm of their skates, and not on how much he never wanted to let go.
“As to your other question…” Her voice brought him back.
“No, I didn’t play sports. I took dance—mostly jazz and hip-hop.
A little ballet to make my grand-maman happy.
” Her voice went soft at the mention. “But most of my time I spent with her doing puzzles, reading books… quieter stuff like that. Which suited my brother, Julian, and me just fine.”
Liam smiled, picturing it. Cassidy in a tutu, probably talking a mile a minute. “Let me guess,” he said. “You choreographed your own routines.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “Maybe. And maybe they involved a lot of dramatic jazz hands.”
He chuckled, but the image stuck with him, warm and a little bittersweet.
Because it was so different from his own childhood, where laughter came easily, sure, but so did noise and chaos.
Siblings fighting over the last cookie, his mom hollering for them to get their boots off the table, his dad wrestling them into snow gear for skating on the lake.
A house that had always felt full and loud.
Cassidy’s stories felt softer, quieter, edged with a loneliness she didn’t quite say out loud. A girl who had learned to make her own joy, who had clung to the light even after the world had tried to dim it.
And maybe that was what pulled him in the most.
“Tell me more about your brother,” he said gently, because he wanted to know everything about her—about the people who made her who she was, about the family she missed, about the soft, hidden parts of her she didn’t always let the world see.
Cassidy smiled. Liam could hear it in her voice.
“Julian’s great. He’s really my best friend.
After our parents died, we leaned on each other.
I mean, we’ve always been close, but that changed things.
Then after everything fell apart in Paris with Jean-Paul, Julian really wanted me to stay in New York.
He and his husband own a patisserie there—they’re brilliant at what they do.
And I loved working with them, but the fast-paced city lifestyle?
I was kind of over it. I wanted something different.
Something for myself. The Midwest always felt like home, even though I hadn’t lived here in years. ”
“Well, for what it’s worth… I’m glad you came back.”
“Me too. But I have to say… ice skating looks way more fun on TV. My ankles are killing me, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to take you down yet.”
Liam laughed. “You want to head back?”
“I do. I really do.”
Liam guided her off the rink, his hand steady on her back as they stepped carefully across the frosty edge, the blades of their skates clicking softly on the ice before they reached the snow-dusted path.
He didn’t want the morning to end. Honestly, he could get used to starting every day with Cassidy—making her laugh, hearing her stories, drinking in those quiet moments when her eyes softened just for him.
The sun had fully risen now, painting the sky in shades of blush and gold. Liam knew that back in town, people were waking up, getting ready for work and school. But out here, it felt like a private world for just the two of them.
“Are you in a hurry to get back?” he asked, surprising even himself.
“I should be opening shop in a couple of hours,” she replied. “But if you’ve got something else in mind, I’d love to hear it.”
“It’s just… talking about old times reminded me of a place nearby. Thought maybe you’d like to see?”
“Keeping it mysterious, are you?” Cassidy teased, bumping her shoulder into his side.
“Something like that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m dying to know what you’re up to.”
“Honestly? I’m just sort of winging it,” he admitted with a grin.
Cassidy laughed, her eyes sparkling beneath the glow of the lampposts that lined the lakeside trail.
“You’re not allergic to pine trees, are you?” he asked, remembering her earlier allergic reaction with sudden concern.
“Not at all,” Cassidy assured him with a warm smile.
They set off, hand in hand, along the paved trail that wrapped around the lake.
The city council had kept the main path clear, but where they were headed wasn’t paved.
Pines stood tall and dark against the brightening sky, their branches heavy with fresh snow, creating a tunnel of white and green that shimmered faintly.
Liam glanced down at Cassidy’s boots.
“You checking out my footwear?” she asked with a smirk.
“Just making sure we’re prepared.” He grinned then turned off the trail, leading her through the snow toward a dense cluster of pines. They were still hand in hand, Liam in front, making a path through the snow for her to follow.
“You’d never see it from the paved trail—it’s too buried—but I know right where it is,” he continued, guiding her with sure steps.
Back here, the snowdrifts were dramatic. On one side, the snow was only inches deep, the other, several feet. Liam led her right down the middle, carving a path just for them.
Some people loved Maple Falls in the fall, with its fiery maples and woodsmoke from the campground.
Others thought you couldn’t beat it in the spring, when the town came alive with flowers and the promise of new beginnings.
And it was beautiful in the summer, with the boats bobbing on the lake, the sun warming everyone through, the smell of honeysuckle in the air.
But if you asked Liam, he’d say there was nothing more beautiful than that moment, right there.
For years, he hadn’t let himself see it.
December had become a month he endured, a season that pressed on old wounds, turning all the twinkling lights and carols into reminders of what he’d lost. The snow-laden pine trees, the crystal ice rink, all the colorful lights—they’d been pushed into the background.
But now, with Cassidy’s hand in his, it was like seeing Maple Falls in winter for the first time.
The bright morning light filtered through the trees, making the snow glitter in gold and silver. The entire scene looked enchanted.
“It’s beautiful back here,” she said, her voice soft, reverent.