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“You going to be my navigator?” Kent asked.

“Sure.”

Kent had moved toward the middle of the seat and she did, too, for fear of falling off if the sleigh hit bumpy ground.

Kent seemed willing to overlook her earlier comment. She was grateful and wished she could take back the lie. “Go left at the fork in the road,” she told him, pointing in that direction.

“How many acres do you have here?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested. The trees had been trimmed and shaped until they were the perfect size for Christmas. Now they glistened with bright, fresh snow.

“Forty acres in total, but only twenty are planted in trees. I’m planting another five acres each year and replacing the ones we’ve cut.”

Kent held the reins loosely. “I assumed most families bought artificial trees these days.”

“Certainly that’s the trend, but there are still plenty of people who prefer a fresh tree, especially if they can chop it down themselves. It makes for wonderful memories. And after Christmas, people cut them up for compost, so ecologically speaking, you could argue that they’re superior.”

“That’s good.”

“In addition, a lot of my trees are shipped overseas.”

“Really.”

She chatted easily, explaining what she’d learned in the past three seasons and her hopes for the future. After a while, she paused, embarrassed that she’d talked for so long. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to drone on like that.”

He gave her a quick smile. “You really love it here, don’t you?”

“It’s a very different lifestyle from California, but I needed a change. I was in a horrible rut.” The instant the words were out, she regretted being so honest. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. What I said earlier, it…isn’t— I wish…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured.

Kent had always been ready to forgive and forget; she admired that about him. She was the one who held on to hurts far longer than she should.

“We should sing Christmas carols,” Bailey suggested, and then broke into “Silent Night.” Sophie joined in and so did Kent. Beth added her own voice. The last one to sing was Danielle. Unfortunately, she was off-key and sounded terrible.

Beth chanced a look at Kent and found him glancing at her at the same time. They broke into giggles, which they did their best to hide.

The group’s enthusiasm faded after two or three songs, and their voices gradually dwindled away.

“Remember our first Christmas?” Kent asked, keeping his voice low.

“I thought about it…recently. It was a magical time for us, wasn’t it?” He met her eyes for several seconds until she forced herself to look down. The intensity of the attraction she felt confused her. Disconcerted her.

Oh, dear. It was happening again and this time Danielle was with them.

As the sleigh glided through the snow, she pointed to another turn in the road, one that cut through the property.

“Right or left?”

“Left.” She was so caught up in the moment that she’d said left when she meant right.

Kent turned right. “Sorry,” he said, sounding flustered. “You said left, didn’t you?”

“No, this is fine,” she told him. She clenched her gloved hands in her lap, grateful that the wind and cold were a convenient excuse for the color splotching her face.

“Oh, look,” Sophie cried. “It’s snowing again.”

Thick, fat flakes drifted lazily from a slate-gray sky.

“It’ll probably melt by morning,” Danielle said, “and everything will be mud and slush.”

“But for now it’s beautiful,” Beth countered. This was the coldest winter on record in the Pacific Northwest. The weatherperson broadcasting from the Seattle TV station had been effusive about the unusual amount of snow in the area, especially this early in the winter.

“I’m cold,” Danielle complained. “And I can’t move my arms.”

“Let me help you,” Bailey said.

“Ouch! You’re pulling the blankets tighter. I feel like a sausage.”

“I thought you said you were cold.”

“I am, but I want to breathe, too,” Danielle snapped. “Take this ridiculous thing off me.”

“Girls,” Beth said, twisting around. Danielle