Page 21 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
“Come on!” Emmy insisted, dragging Sarah to the other side of the square.
“It does look different from here,” Sarah admitted, trying to focus on the massive star atop the tree. Emmy was right. From this angle, the light caught the facets differently, creating a starburst pattern against the night sky.
Pat joined them, her arm slipping around Sarah’s waist. “Quite the spectacle, isn’t it?”
Emmy pointed upward, explaining to Pat in great detail why this view was superior. Sarah half-listened, her attention drifting back across the square to where Michael stood talking with Daniel, James, and Christopher. As if sensing her gaze, he looked up, their eyes meeting across the distance.
Around them, the crowd had begun to disperse, families heading home with sleepy children, couples walking hand-in-hand toward Main Street’s cafés and shops.
“I think it’s time we headed home, too,” Sarah said, noticing Emmy’s slowing movements and the way she leaned against Pat’s side.
“But we just got here,” Emmy protested, though the yawn that followed undermined her argument.
“We’ve been here for two hours, sweet pea,” Sarah corrected gently. “And we’ve got our own beautiful tree waiting at home.”
They said their goodbyes, and Sarah felt a pang of disappointment when she couldn’t spot Michael in the dispersing crowd. They were halfway down Maple Street when the first snowflakes began to fall, delicate crystals drifting lazily through the glow of the streetlights.
“I told you snow was coming,” Pat said with satisfaction, tilting her face upward.
Emmy immediately copied the gesture, her mouth open to catch snowflakes. “I can smell it!” she declared, inhaling deeply. “It smells like...like cold magic!”
Sarah laughed, tucking Emmy’s hand more securely in hers. “Cold magic, huh? That’s a perfect description.”
By the time they reached Pat’s house, the snow was falling more steadily, dusting their coats and hats with a fine layer of white. Inside, their own Christmas tree greeted them, its lights twinkling in welcome—the same warm glow she’d seen in Michael’s eyes.
Emmy’s energy flagged quickly once they were home. After hot chocolate was enjoyed on a rug at the foot of their Christmas tree, Sarah guided her sleepy daughter toward the stairs.
“Will you tell me a story?” Emmy asked sleepily.
Sarah smiled. “Of course.”
After tucking Emmy in and spinning a tale about a snow fairy who collected lost mittens, Sarah kissed her daughter’s forehead. Emmy was already half-asleep, her eyelids heavy.
“Night, Mom,” she murmured. “I like it here.”
“Me, too, sweet pea,” Sarah whispered. “Me, too.”
She found Pat in the kitchen, washing out their cocoa mugs.
“I think I’ll turn in,” Pat said. “Are you coming up soon?”
Sarah shook her head. “I thought I’d work on some designs for a bit. Can’t sleep yet.”
Pat’s knowing smile made Sarah blush. “Designs for a certain tree farm, perhaps?”
“It’s a good opportunity,” Sarah defended, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. “For my portfolio.”
“Mm-hmm,” Pat hummed, clearly unconvinced. She kissed Sarah’s cheek before heading upstairs. “Don’t stay up too late, dear.”
Alone in the quiet house, Sarah made herself a fresh cup of cocoa and settled at the dining room table with her laptop. She pulled up a blank document and typed “North Peak Pines: Flyers” at the top, trying to approach the project professionally.
But as she worked, sketching rough layouts and jotting notes about color schemes, her mind kept wandering to the feeling of Michael’s arm against hers, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. She found herself designing with him in mind.
What would he like? What would make him smile that smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes?
Sarah sighed, resting her chin in her hand as she stared at her screen. She could pretend all she wanted that this was about showcasing her design skills, but the truth was embarrassingly simple: she was looking for an excuse to see Michael North again.
And judging by the way he’d looked at her tonight, he might be hoping for the same thing.
