The following morning, Adaline’s phone started pinging before she even got out of bed. By the time she dragged her eyes open, Fuzzy was lying on her chest and licking her face, ready for his morning walk. She threw on a red cashmere sweater and jeans, clipped Fuzzy’s leash to his collar and read the string of messages on the Comfort Paws group chat while he trotted merrily along the sidewalk, still dotted with patches of melting snow.
Jenna: Gals! Meet me in front of the dance studio as soon as you get this message. I can’t wait to show you all something.
Belle: On my way. What’s going on?
Maple: LB and I are headed right over.
Adaline hastened her steps and tapped out a quick response indicating she and Fuzzy would be there in five. When she rounded the corner near the square, she spotted all three of her friends already gathered in front of Jenna’s studio with their dogs. As usual, Lady Bird towered over the smaller Cavaliers. Compared to Ginger, Peaches and Fuzzy, the golden was a true gentle giant.
Jenna waved as Adaline approached. “Oh, good. You’re here!”
“Morning!” Maple gave her an air-kiss.
“Finally. I thought bakers woke up crazy early while it was still dark outside.” Belle gave Adaline a hug while the three Cavaliers shimmied around each other until their leashes looked like a knot of spaghetti noodles.
“Believe it or not, I’m all caught up on special orders, so we slept in a bit. Things have been nuts lately.” On every possible level, frankly. “What’s the urgent meeting about?”
“I held off on showing the others because I wanted to show all of you at the same time.” Jenna smoothed the hair at her temples where it led to her ballerina bun. Even in a puffer coat and leggings, she still looked every inch a dancer. Her boyfriend, Cam, was a professional football player. Together, they were practically Bluebonnet royalty. “I got to the studio early this morning to go over recital details before the dance moms descended and look what I saw!”
She pranced—because that’s truly how graceful Jenna’s movements were—to the storefront next door to Bluebonnet Ballet School, her baby. For as long as Adaline could remember, the space had been occupied by the day care center Tiny Tots Day School, which had provided nice crossover business for Jenna’s dance school.
“Ta-da!” Jenna said and waved Vanna White–style at the new sign propped in the day care’s front window.
This space is available for lease beginning January 1.
“The day care center is closing. This is their last week in business.” Jenna’s entire face lit up. “Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?”
Lady Bird let out a timely bark.
“This space would be perfect for Comfort Paws,” Maple said as she cupped her hands over her eyes to peer inside. “Look, there are nice open areas where we could have training classes.”
Belle pressed her face to the glass next to Maple. “Those cubbies where the kids put their things would make great storage. We could organize all the dog vests, leashes, fanny packs and T-shirts that are probably taking up every square inch of room in your Sunday house, Maple.”
“Seriously. Ford just asked me the other day if I actually have space for him to move in after the wedding. I promised him we could make it work,” Maple laughed. “Then he opened a closet and stacks of Comfort Paws hoodies fell directly on top of his head.”
“Do we have any idea what the rent might be?” Adaline asked. Since the storefront wasn’t directly on the town square, it just might be affordable. Still, it was going to take a lot of hot cocoa to pay for a space like this.
“I don’t know. The sign just went up this morning.” Jenna tapped her foot. “We should probably check into it right away. Business space in Bluebonnet is so limited. Someone is going to snap this up fast.”
Belle turned toward Maple. “Have we gotten word on the grant yet?”
Maple shook her head. “Not yet, but I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“I almost forgot about that.” Adaline breathed a little easier.
Just after Thanksgiving, before the reappearance of Jace Martin and back before her grand fundraiser had been reduced to a single cocoa cart, Adaline had spotted a grant funded by the Texas Veterinary Association offering $25,000 per year for the next four years to a Texas-based charity focused on the human-animal bond. Applications had been due December 1, and Adaline had scrambled to write up a proposal and full description of the Comfort Paws mission, along with testimonials from the county hospital, the senior center, the local rehab facility and other places where their therapy dogs had been visiting for months. Comfort Paws had already had a major impact on the community, and they’d only just gotten started. With an adequate training facility, they could expand their reach beyond their small town and have therapy dog teams all over the Texas Hill Country.
That’s how Adaline hoped the people overseeing the grant process would see it, anyway. Since Maple was a veterinarian, she’d signed off on the paperwork alongside Adaline, using the pet clinic as the official Comfort Paws address.
“The last communication I got from the grant committee indicated they’d announce their decision by the end of the year,” Maple said.
“So we’ve still got a shot.” Belle clapped her hands. “This is so exciting!”
The clapping prompted the Cavaliers to start spinning in excited circles while Lady Bird did a little tap dance with her big gold paws. Everyone was celebrating, even though no one knew for certain whether or not they had reason to.
“I’ll reach out to the leasing company right away,” Adaline said.
She needed to go home first and thoroughly crunch the numbers on the cocoa stand. As tempting as it might be, she knew they couldn’t count on the grant, and she needed to have at least a ballpark figure of what they might be able to afford before she met with the property manager.
Maple’s nose crinkled “Are you sure? You’re already doing so much. I hate to add even more to your already full plate.”
Adaline’s plate was more than full. It was basically groaning beneath the weight of things she kept piling on top of it. But she was the Comfort Paws treasurer. This was her job. Plus, she couldn’t very well ask someone else to do it. Jenna had her Christmas dance recital to worry about and an army of dance moms breathing down her neck. Bluebonnet Elementary wasn’t on winter break yet, which meant Belle was still working at the library every day on top of lobbying the school board about making her proposed Comfort Paws reading education assistance dog program an official part of the curriculum. Not to mention that in a week and a half, Maple would be walking down the aisle.
That left Adaline.
“I’m completely sure. No problem at all.” She took in the wide front windows of the day care center and imagined whimsical paintings of dogs wearing therapy vests on the shiny glass. Maybe she could get the art club from Bluebonnet High to volunteer their time. A mural in the front entrance would also look great. The build-out was already bright, cheery and colorful since the space had been intended for children. That would transition perfectly for Comfort Paws. “This location is a dream. I’m going to do everything I can to make it happen.”
She’d get it in writing this time, too. No more mistakes like she’d made with the town square reservation at the mayor’s office.
“It really would be the perfect spot. Comfort Paws is going to be bigger and better than I ever dreamed it would. I can’t believe we’ve come this far already, y’all.” Maple went misty-eyed and fluttered a hand in front of her face like she was trying not to cry.
Jenna held up a hand. “I think this calls for a high five.”
Lady Bird batted at the air with one of her paws, drawing a round of laughter out of the Comfort Paws girls. Peaches and Fuzzy both pounced at the golden retriever, eager to join in whatever game they thought she was playing. Even Ginger, the quietest of the group of therapy dogs, dropped into a play bow and wagged her tail.
The mood was infectious, and Adaline felt her worries melting away like the Texas snow. Christmas was almost here, and everything was going to be just fine.
It had to.
Mr. Martin, this is Maureen O’Connor with Briarwood Properties, following up on our offer for the purchase of Texas Tidings Christmas Tree Farm. The expiration date on the proposed contract is fast approaching. I’m here if you have any questions or need any further information. I look forward to hearing from you.
Jace deleted the voice-mail message and shoved his phone deep into the pocket of his shearling coat as he approached the entrance to the senior center for his daily check-in on Uncle Gus. He had more important things to worry about right now than the pending offer on his farm.
Namely, the weather.
He paused outside the revolving door to study the sky. As a farmer, he followed the forecast religiously and tried to anticipate what it meant for his trees. But sometimes the sky told its own story, like whether a highly anticipated snow day was really in the realm of possibility or if it was just wishful holiday thinking. Today, the pink tinge to sweeping blue made his gut churn. All morning, the local news stations had been warning of an incoming ice storm, and from the looks of things, there was serious reason to be concerned.
Freezing temperatures were never good, but hard freezes weren’t that common in this part of the state. On the rare occasion the Hill Country did freeze over, it usually happened after Christmas—weeks, or even months, after families had come to Texas Tidings to choose and cut down their Christmas tree. This was the first Christmas that Jace had harvested the trees and sold them at a lot, and he’d made that choice out of sheer necessity. The only way to be close to Gus was to bring the trees with him, so that’s what he’d done.
He liked working the lot as much as he enjoyed working the farm during the holidays. People were typically in good spirits when they came out to select a tree. Couples had gotten engaged at Texas Tidings, and a year or two later, they’d come back with babies bundled up in snowsuits or dogs wearing red plaid collars and Santa hats. Already, his new customers in Bluebonnet were asking if he’d be back in the town square next year. Christmas tree shopping was a holiday tradition, and having just a small role in it made Jace feel like he was part of a bigger whole. He needed it, especially this year.
And now the weatherman was telling him a freeze was on its way.
Jace’s stomach hardened as entered the building and made his way to his uncle’s room in the extended care unit. He was going to lose the trees. Every night, he covered them with tarps and wound them up snug until the following day, but ice, chill and drying winds were enemies of freshly cut trees, especially when they were the result of a sudden drop in temperature. The tarps weren’t going to be enough.
“Uncle Gus, I can’t stay long today. I’ve got a crisis on my—” Jace’s voice drifted off as he took in the scene in room 212. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Oh, hi.” Adaline waved at him from the chair at Gus’s bedside. The only thing more surprising than finding her there was the sight of Fuzzy—dressed in his Comfort Paws vest-and-antler combo, as per usual—curled in a contented ball on his uncle’s lap.
Her presence wrapped itself around Jace like a blanket. He grinned. “Morning, sweetheart. This is a nice surprise.”
He moved to press a kiss to the top of her head. As usual, the heady scents of sugar and frosting tickled his nose when he got close to her.
“Morning.” She tipped her head toward Uncle Gus’s bed. “Look who decided to say yes to a pet visit today.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Gus grumbled and nodded at Jace. “This one isn’t giving me much of a choice. He says I have to be nice to you.”
“You mentioned that already,” Adaline said. “A couple times, actually. I’m not buying it, though. You don’t strike me as the type to put up with being ordered around, Mr. Martin.”
“If you’re going to be hanging around here, do me a favor and stop calling me Mr. Martin. It makes me feel like an old man.” Gus shifted his gaze toward Fuzzy and ran his gnarled fingers over the sleeping pup’s back with a tenderness Jace hadn’t seen from his uncle since...well...ever.
“What shall I call you, then?” Adaline exchanged a glance with Jace while she waited for Gus to answer.
She looked as radiant as he’d ever seen her. He loved that something as simple as a kind word from his cranky relative could make her so happy. What kind of person derived such joy from visiting elderly people with their dog?
Some days, coming here was hard. It couldn’t be any easier for Adaline, given the challenges her grandmother was facing. And she didn’t stop there. She took Fuzzy to visit the other residents, too, and it hadn’t escaped Jace’s notice that she usually stuck to this wing of the building—the unit where patients needed long-term, personal care.
He’d been serious when he’d told her he admired her. She had a compassionate heart that she permanently wore on her sleeve, even when she was trying her best not to be vulnerable. It was an enchanting paradox. No wonder Jace couldn’t stop thinking about her...
Even when he knew he shouldn’t.
“I suppose you can call me Uncle Gus, but let’s not make a thing of it, okay? I’m used to Jace calling me that, is all.” Gus finally tore his gaze away from Fuzzy long enough to spot the small fir tree Jace was carrying. “What in tarnation is that?”
“It’s a Christmas tree for your room. I told you I was bringing you one.” Jace set the tree in the corner and adjusted the clamp stand he’d attached to it before he took it off the lot.
“And I told you I didn’t need one. If I want to look at a tree, I can go down to the lobby and see that giant one you brought the other day,” Gus said.
Jace stood at the foot of his bed and crossed his arms. He shot a wink at Adaline, who was laughing under her breath, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth now that she’d somehow gotten on his uncle’s good side. “I think the words you’re looking for are thank and you.”
“It’s not the ugliest tree I’ve ever seen,” Gus admitted, albeit reluctantly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The set of Jace’s shoulders relaxed a bit. He could get used to this—Adaline and Fuzzy being here with him and Gus. It felt nice, almost like they were a normal family.
Except he and Adaline weren’t a family at all. They weren’t even a real couple.
Jace cleared his throat and managed to drag his head out of the clouds long enough to remember he couldn’t stay. “Look, there’s a problem at the Christmas tree lot, so I need to get going.”
Disappointment carved its way into the lines on Gus’s face. “Already? You just got here.”
Of all the days for his uncle to finally start appreciating his presence. Jace sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“What’s wrong?” Adaline’s forehead puckered. “I mean, what’s wrong...babe?”
Jace pressed his lips together to keep himself from chuckling. Babe? The word sounded ridiculous coming out of her mouth, but at least she was making an effort at making their ruse as convincing as possible.
“There’s a hard freeze warning tonight. I’ve got to close down the lot.”
“Close it down?” Her face fell. “Completely?”
“If I don’t, and the temperature falls as much as they say it might, the trees won’t survive. Freshly cut trees carry a lot of moisture in their limbs and needles. An ice storm wouldn’t just affect the exterior branches.”
Adaline’s hand fluttered to her throat. “You mean the trees could freeze from the inside out?”
“That’s one way of putting it, yes.” Jace dragged his hand through his hair. All that harvesting...all those trees. Half his yearly income was in danger of going straight down the drain.
“So what do we do now?” Adaline asked, eyebrows drawing together in concern.
We. Jace’s chest warmed. It was a wonder how a single syllable could make him feel a little bit better.
He shifted from one foot to the other. The reality of the situation hadn’t changed a bit. Having Adaline’s support was nice, but he was still looking down the barrel of an impossible task. “Well, we move the trees. I need to get them inside a proper shelter for the night.”
“The barn,” Gus said with a firm nod. “It’s old, but it’s still standing. And it’s heated. I haven’t turned the furnace on in years, but even if it doesn’t work, your trees would still be safer inside than they would in the square under tarps.”
The older man’s eyes fixed on Jace. Could he tell that Jace hadn’t set foot in the barn since he’d been back in Bluebonnet? Jace didn’t want to remember the day he’d hid away in the back stall, wishing and praying that he could stay. The wounded look in his father’s eyes when Gus had dragged him back inside had made him crumble inside. He’d felt like the world’s worst son. The day he’d said goodbye to Bluebonnet had been a nightmare—one that was still seared into Jace’s memory in shameful, ghastly detail. He didn’t want to relive any part of it.
But Gus was right. The barn was his best shot.
His only shot.
“Agreed.” Jace pulled the phone from his pocket to check the time. “If I start moving trees now, I might be able to save a third of them by nightfall. My pickup can only haul a few at a time.”
Adaline shook her head. “Wait, what about that huge truck you were using the day you unloaded all the trees at the square? Wouldn’t that be easier?”
“It would, but that was a rental. I can’t get a flatbed of that size on such short notice—not way out here in the country and definitely not on the day before an ice storm.”
She popped out of her chair and planted her hands on her hips like she was Wonder Woman, coming to save the day. The glint of determination in her eyes almost made Jace believe it.
“It looks like we need to get started, then,” she said.
There was that we again. And this time, it seemed like she was dead serious.
They were in this together, for better or worse.