Page 68 of Back to December
I wander toward The Gingerbread Trail, chuckling at the names and vibrant labels. The trail started a few years back as part of the farm’s winter festival, a way for families to “follow the sweets” to the heart of the farm. Locals say that if you walk the Gingerbread Trail with someone you love, you’ll always find your way back to them.
After visiting The Nutcracker Bakery—or the cafe—they can head to The Candy Cane Cottage, an adorable little booth overflowing with sweets. Giant candy canes and peppermint swirls line the path, each stop featuring trivia questions about gingerbread, Hansel and Gretel, and Christmas traditions. It feels childish and comforting all at once, like the universe left a trail of sugar to remind me that sweetness still exists, even when life doesn’t.
My fingers itch to pull out my phone. This is exactly the sort of thing I want to share on my Sweet Things account. But I rarely post about anything in Enchanted Hollow. At first, it was because I didn’t want to lead my mother here.
Clearly, that was a wasted effort.
I turn in a circle so I can take in everything about the environment, and a new realization dawns on me. Ever After Farms is dripping with nostalgia. So is Enchanted Hollow. I feel sure my subconscious knew this long before today, and that’s why I always find my way back. Holden is an enormous factor—the biggest—but this place gives me something nowhere else can.
Peace.
I always viewed the fact that the cell service here is spotty at best as a pain, but it’s a blessing when you want to escape the daily grind. Or the assault of information that floods the nervous system as soon as I open an app.
If I post about this place, I’m letting people in on a secret that feels like it belongs to me. But it doesn’t, not really. Sweet Things was supposed to be a fresh start, but maybe it was really a map back to the sweetness that doesn’t need filters.
There are people here whocoulduse my help, just like Holden told me six years ago. The town and farm do well for themselves—but how many lives could I change if I stopped keeping Enchanted Hollow to myself?
I’ve drifted over to the Christmas-tree field before I realize how far I’ve walked. More signs point to other attractions around the farm, and little mischievous gingerbread men cutouts pop out of evergreens. The sharp green scent of pine cuts through the air.
“You seem lost.”
“Story of my life.”
I turn to find the definition of tall, dark, and handsome standing a few away. Sebastian Gold’s exact image could go in a reference book for that phrase—dark hair, dark clothes,and dark eyes. A quiet broodiness with an even more unreadable expression.
Ebeneezer Scrooge with better cheekbones. Or Bucky Barnes if he traded a suit for his mechanical arm.
Although that seems a lot less intriguing.
“Just taking a breather in the trees,” I gesture around me. “You’re not out here looking for Jacob Marley, are you?”
He barks out a laugh, catching me off guard.
“Super-soldier serum?” I try again.
“I forgot how clever you are.”
“Classic me,” I joke. “I’m quite the clever girl.”
That phrase, unfortunately, reminds me of the scene in Jurassic Park where the trainer knows he’s being hunted. Hopefully, it’s not a metaphor.
He hums for a moment. “More clever than you believe, it appears. Tell me, why are you out here by yourself? I imagine Ella is happy to see you again, with all the wedding planning underway.”
The way he said it made me think of Ella’s stories about magic debts and trades that cost more than you planned to pay.
It occurs to me a little that I don’t remember Sebastian much from when we lived here before. Maybe I wasn’t paying enough attention—to him, to Ella, to anything outside my little bubble.
Water under the bridge, I remind myself.
But even then, the Golds are hard to miss. His family is well known here, between the rumors, the mayor, and the bank.
Henry would probably call this a retelling—the girl leaves the forest, and finds herself instead of the candy house.
Ishouldremember more about him.
Despite his family’s penchant for strange, quiet deals, he strikes me as someone more misunderstood than menacing. Especially if I remove my mother and her need to manipulate those around her. If anything, Sebastian is an opportunist.
“For the sake of not reliving it—let’s call it family fallout.”
