Page 27 of Sweet Christmas Comeback
The words played on repeat in his head. She hadn’t said no. She hadn’t pulled away. She’d said “We’ll see”, and there had been warmth in her voice, promise in her eyes. It wasn’t a declaration, but it wasn’t a rejection either. It was... hope. Cautious, careful hope, but hope nonetheless.
He abandoned the trough and grabbed a bag of feed, the familiar weight a comfort on his shoulder. The morning chores felt different somehow—not like drudgery, but like preparation. For what, he wasn’t entirely sure, but something had shifted last night.
“Are you happy?”
The voice was small, piping, and came from somewhere around the height of his elbow.
Leo turned, surprised at the accuracy of the question.
Lila stood there, a small, bundled-up ghost in the half-light. She was wearing an oversized purple coat, two different Christmas socks pulled up over her snow pants, and a hat with a pom-pom so large it made her head look perpetually off balance. She was holding a half-eaten candy cane like a scepter.
“What are you doing up?” he asked, though his voice was gentler than it might have been on another morning.
“Dad woke me up when he kissed me goodbye before work,” she said matter-of-factly. “His truck’s really loud. He’ll be gone for three days this time.” She studied his face with the intensity of a detective. “You look different. Smiley-different.”
Steve was a long-haul trucker, which meant the three Carter brothers took turns being Lila’s primary caregiver depending on his schedule. It was a system that worked mostly, though Leo sometimes worried they were spread too thin.
“Do I?” he asked, realizing he probably did feel different.
She nodded sagely. “It’s because of Jade, isn’t it? You like her.”
There was no point in denying it to a ten-year-old who saw everything. “Yeah, kiddo. I do.”
“Good!” she announced with satisfaction. “She likes you too. I can tell.”
“Can you?” He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips.
“She gets all blushy when you’re around. And she watches you when she thinks nobody’s looking.” Lila took a thoughtful lick of her candy cane. “Would you like it if she came around more? Like, a lot more?”
The question was so direct, so hopeful, that it made his chest tight. “Would you?”
“Yes!” The answer came without hesitation. “She’s nice. And she doesn’t talk to me like I’m a baby. And she knows how to make cookies that don’t taste like cardboard.” She paused. “Not like Mom’s cookies.”
The casual mention of her mother hit Leo like a small, unexpected punch. Lisa. His sister-in-law, who’d decided one day that motherhood was a project she was no longer interested in. Who’d packed a bag and driven away, leavingbehind a confused five-year-old and a mountain of unanswered questions.
The parallel was there, uninvited but undeniable. Another woman who might not stay. Another person Lila could get attached to, only to watch leave.
But he pushed the thought away almost as quickly as it came. That wasn’t fair—not to Jade, and not to himself. He wasn’t going to make assumptions based on someone else’s choices. Jade had come back to save her family’s bakery, not to run away from responsibility. She was fighting for something, not abandoning it.
“Uncle Leo?” Lila’s voice brought him back to the present. “You’ve got that look again.”
“What look?”
“The worried one. The one you get when you’re thinking too hard about grown-up stuff.” She stepped closer, her expression serious. “Jade’s not going anywhere, is she? She just got here.”
He knelt down to her level, meeting her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Li. But I’m not going to spend all my time worrying about it anymore.” The words felt strange in his mouth, but true. “Sometimes you have to take chances on good things.”
She studied his face for a long moment, then nodded approvingly. “That sounds like better grown-up logic.”
“I’m working on it,” he said, and meant it.
She grinned and skipped off toward Vixen’s stall. “I’m going to give Vixen some of my candy cane. She deserves a treat for being such a good matchmaker.”
Leo watched her go, a warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the morning’s work. For the first time in years, the future felt like something to anticipate rather than endure.
He wasn’t naive. There were no guarantees. Jade might decide small-town life wasn’t for her after all. The bakery might fail. A dozen things could go wrong.
But something had changed last night in that sleigh. Something real and worth the risk. And he was tired of letting fear make his decisions for him.
