Page 1 of Love Story

Samuel‘Sam’ Caldwell

I WAS LATE, which was unheard of for me.Ryan was typically the late one, losing track of time when he was buried in one of his projects, not me.But something had gone sideways at the farm—a busted sap line, of all things, just when I thought I’d finished the week’s maintenance—and by the time I’d wrangled it back into working order, I was thirty minutes behind schedule.

The snow fell thick and fast as I trudged down the narrow path leading to the trailhead.The Caldwell covered bridge loomed ahead, its red timbers dusted with white, picture-perfect in the way it always was after a storm.

And there they were, waiting for me under the old sugar maple at the trail’s entrance.The three men—my best friends—were bundled up against the cold, hats pulled low, scarves wrapped high, like a mismatched set of snowmen.Conor was the tallest, and his firefighter’s build was unmistakable, even under layers of winter gear.Haider was easy to spot, too, bright red gloves flashing as he gestured at something Ryan had said.And Ryan—well, our resident craftsman was easy to pick out because he was standing a little off to the side, examining a branch of the tree they were under as if imagining the things he could make with it.

“You’re late,” Conor called out when he saw me, his grin wide enough to be heard in his voice.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” I shot back, stuffing my hands deeper into my pockets as I approached.“I didn’t think Ryan would be on time.”

Ryan glanced up; his face half-hidden behind his scarf.“I set an alarm.Haider said he’d kill me if I were late for his birthday again.”

“Damn right,” Haider said, crossing his arms and squinting at me.“And you—Mr.Reliable—what’s your excuse?”

“Farm stuff,” I muttered, kicking at the snow.“A line broke, and I had to fix it.”

Conor’s eyebrows shot up.“In this weather?You really love those trees, don’t you?”

“Someone has to,” I said, rolling my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling.

“Come on,” Haider said, gesturing toward the trail.“It’s my birthday, and I’m not spending it standing here in the snow waiting for you to explain your maple emergencies.”

We fell into step together, the four of us walking along the familiar path.It was tradition to meet here on our birthdays and take this walk.From the trailhead, we’d follow the bend in the path curving through the woods, past the covered bridge, and loop back to town.I didn’t know who had suggested it first, but it stuck.Some traditions were worth keeping.

Haider’s cheeks were red—not just from the cold but from his excitement when he told us one of his dating stories.He was marching ahead, his red-gloved hands flailing as he talked, and Ryan and Conor were already howling with laughter.I had no idea what I’d missed, but I didn’t want to be left out.I really hated being late.

“Wait, wait, start over,” I called, catching up to them.“What happened?”

Haider spun around, walking backward to ensure I saw his full level of exasperation.“Okay, so I matched with this guy on the app—Benji.Cute.Seemed normal, you know?We decided to meet up at that coffee shop by the bookstore.You know the one.”

“Sure,” I said, grinning.This was already promising.

“So, I get there first, right?Order my latte, sit down, whatever.He shows up, and—” Haider paused, throwing his hands up dramatically.“The first thing out of his mouth is, ‘Wow, you look taller in your photos.’”

Conor let out a loud laugh.“Classic.Always a great start to a date.”

“Right?”Haider groaned.“And I’m just sitting there, thinking, What the hell do I even say to that?So, I’m like, ‘Uh, okay, thanks?’And he shrugs like it’s no big deal.Strike one.”

“Wait, wait,” Ryan interrupted, grinning.“Was he shorter than you?”

“Of course, he was shorter than me,” Haider said, gesturing to himself.“And I’m not even that tall!Anyway, we’re making awkward small talk, and I’m trying to steer the conversation toward literally anything normal.Then the waitress brings his drink, and he looks her dead in the eye and says, ‘Thanks, but I don’t tip.’”

A collective groan went up from all of us.

“No,” I said, shaking my head.“No way.”

“Oh, yes,” Haider said, eyes wide with mock horror.“I wanted to crawl under the table.The waitress just gave him this look like, ‘Really?’And then I ended up tipping extra because I was so embarrassed.”

“Strike two,” Conor said, smirking.

“Strike two and three,” Haider shot back.“But no, it gets worse.He starts talking about how he’s ‘working on a screenplay’—because of course he is—and goes on this whole rant about how no one understands his vision and how he has this ‘intense connection’ to cats.”

Ryan frowned.“Like, he likes cats.That’s not bad.”

“No, no,” Haider said, waving a finger at him.“Not like he ‘likes cats.’Like he thinks he was a cat in a past life.He literally said, and I quote, ‘I think my soul resonates with feline energy.’”

I almost choked on my laughter.“What does that even mean?”

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