Page 11 of Tangling with the Christmas
"Thank you," she whispers.
"For what?"
"For coming down the mountain. For taking a chance. For not letting me drive away this morning without a fight."
I hold her tighter, breathing her in. "Thank you for crashing into my snowbank. For being stubborn. For seeing something worth saving in a grumpy hermit who forgot how to live."
"Guess we saved each other," she says.
"Yeah," I agree, watching the lights blink on across the square, painting everything in gold and silver. "Guess we did."
Epilogue
Rhett
Threeyearslater
The town square glows like something out of a dream. Every lamppost is wrapped in evergreen garland, every shop window frosted and twinkling, and of course, there’s the giant tree standing proud in the center of it all.Ourtree. From our Christmas tree farm. Rosemary insisted we revive it together, acre by acre, until Walker Tree Farm was thriving again. And now it is.
"Daddy, look!" Noelle squeals from her perch on my shoulders, tiny mittened hands pointing at the lights. "It's so sparkly!"
"Sure is, sweetheart." I adjust my grip on her legs, making sure she's steady. At two and a half, she's fearless. Takes after her mother that way.
Speaking of her mother…
Rosemary stands beside me, baby Joseph bundled against her chest in about fourteen layers of blankets because she's convinced he'll freeze if there's even a hint of wind. He's sleeping through the chaos, mouth open in a tiny O, dark lashes fanned against chubby cheeks.
Three years ago, I couldn't have imagined this—standing in the middle of Mercury Ridge's Christmas festival, surrounded by people, and actually wanting to be here.
And I never imagined I’d have the perfect wife… the perfect kids… the perfectlife.
"You're smiling," Rosemary says, catching me staring at her.
"Can't help it." I lean down to kiss her temple, breathing in the cinnamon scent that still drives me crazy. "You make it easy."
She shifts Joseph slightly, reaching up to squeeze my hand. "Remember when you said you'd never string Christmas lights?"
"Lucky for me, you never take ‘no’ for an answer."
The mayor steps up to the microphone, and the crowd hushes. He launches into his annual speech about community and tradition, about how the festival brings everyone together. Three years ago, I would've rolled my eyes. Now I know he's right.
Because the woman beside me proved it.
"And now," the mayor announces, "let's count down to light up Mercury Ridge's beautiful tree, grown and donated once again by the Walker Tree Farm!"
The crowd starts counting. "Ten… nine… eight…"
Noelle bounces harder, nearly knocking my hat off. "Daddy, it's happening!"
"Three… two… one!"
The tree blazes to life with thousands of lights, transforming the spruce into pure magic. The crowd gasps and cheers. Noelle shrieks with delight. And Rosemary looks up at me with eyes full of tears and joy and everything that makes life worth living.
"Beautiful," I murmur, but I'm not looking at the tree anymore.
"I love you," she whispers.
"I love you too." I wrap my free arm around her and Joseph, pulling my whole world close. "Thank you for crashing into my snowbank."
