Chapter One
Jingle, jingle, jingle. The soft, rhythmic sounds of jingle bells caught my ear, a sweet, familiar tune that blended seamlessly with the merry chatter drifting up from the streets below.
The merriment outside my apartment window fluttered in through the slightly open pane, brushing past the chilly breeze that kissed my cheeks. I was fully immersed in meeting a deadline for the Junction Journal. The pressure was causing me to sweat, a feeling I despised. Sweating was for summer, and I much preferred the crisp, clean cold of winter.
The hint of fresh, wintry air tickled my skin, refreshing my mind and providing a small escape from the flickering cursor on my screen. Outside, the holiday cheer seemed to pour from every corner of Holiday Junction, bringing with it the sounds of children laughing and the occasional hum of a Christmas tune. Snowflakes flurried through the gap in the window, landing softly on my desk like little winter messengers reminding me of the season’s magic.
“And that’s a wrap,” I said to myself after typing the final keystrokes. The town’s event schedule for tomorrow was ready. I sighed in relief after sending it, and that persistent jingle caught my attention once more.
Jingle, jingle, jingle. The bells sounded closer, the chimes mingling with rising oohs and aahs.
I glanced up from my laptop, a smile curling on my lips. The entire town had been buzzing for weeks, counting down to the grand opening of our month-long Christmas Market located on the lawn of the old Christmas Lodge on the far end of the art district.
The festival, which would culminate in the glamorous Mistletoe Masquerade Ball at Elysian Evergreens, turned the normally quiet town into a glowing holiday hub.
I closed my laptop and lifted up the window, and a blast of chilly air whooshed in, carrying with it the smells of pine and cinnamon, making my heart swell with Christmas joy. Below me, the magic of the season was in full swing.
A horse-drawn sleigh draped in garlands of holly and twinkling fairy lights was making its way down the main street of the art district, its grand entrance casting a spell on everyone in its path. Two majestic black stallions pranced ahead of the sleigh body through the snow, their glossy coats glistening under the glow of the lanterns mounted on either side. The coachman, a dapper figure, sat tall and proud, his white-gloved hands gripping the reins. His top hat, flawlessly polished, gleamed each time he passed beneath one of the ornate carriage lights that lined the sidewalk.
Jingle, jingle, jingle. The collars around the horses’ thick necks displayed large brass bells, and as the regal animals took each step, clear, melodic rings resounded through the streets like music from an old holiday movie.
Pedestrians bundled up in thick winter coats, colorful scarves, and knitted hats paused mid-step, enchanted by the scene. A little girl dressed in a bright-red coat with matching mittens clutched her mother’s hand, her wide eyes reflecting the magic of the sleigh as she pointed excitedly toward the horses. Gleeful voices filled the air as all the other children tugged on their parents’ coats, eager to follow the sleigh, which I was sure was going to the Christmas Market.
The first snow of the evening drifted down in lazy, gentle flakes, blanketing the cobblestone streets in a soft layer of white. It was just enough to crunch underfoot, the kind of snow that made the world feel quiet and calm, as though time itself had slowed for that special moment.
The women in the crowd were a vision of holiday elegance—some in fur-trimmed muffs and woolen capes, their cheeks flushed from the cold, others sporting vibrant red and green scarves draped over coats lined with white fleece. The men wore thick gloves and wool hats pulled low over their ears, and friends clustered together, enjoying the smells of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider that lingered in the air, curling up from vendors set up along the sidewalk.
As the sleigh neared, the magic of the moment seemed to spread like the warmth of a crackling fire. The glow from the lanterns bathed the scene in a soft amber hue, casting long shadows across the street. Even the shops lining the sidewalk seemed to lean in closer, their windows glimmering with Christmas lights and festive displays of wreaths, candy canes, and handcrafted ornaments.
The coachman tipped his hat to the onlookers, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he snapped the reins ever so gently, encouraging the horses to lift their feet a little higher. The bells rang louder, announcing the sleigh’s grand arrival in front of my apartment.
Jingle, jingle, jingle.
The crowd gasped softly as the sleigh slowed down.
The scene below was pure magic, a moment pulled straight from the pages of a holiday storybook.
“Whoa,” the coachman called to the horses, bringing them to an abrupt stop just below my small balcony. The jingling of the bells ceased, and the crowd that had gathered watched in awe, their breath visible in the cold air.
I lifted the window fully this time, the chill sweeping into my cozy apartment and making me shiver. Grabbing the soft plaid blanket from my desk chair, I flung it around my shoulders, savoring the warmth before I leaned out to get a closer look. The sleigh stood grandly on the cobblestone street, the black stallions’ exhales steaming as they pranced in place. I could see the coachman, still holding the reins, looking up at me with a knowing smile.
Curiosity got the better of me. I climbed carefully out the window that led out to my small balcony and peeked over the iron railing, looking beyond the empty flower boxes to see who might be stepping from the sleigh.
And then I saw him.
Darren Strickland, my boyfriend, emerged from behind the driver, his mussed-up brown hair catching the glow of the lanterns. His dark eyes locked on mine, and with a huge grin spread across his face, he waved up at me enthusiastically.
I pointed to myself, eyes widening, unsure if he really meant me.
Darren chuckled, shaking his head, then nodded vigorously.
“Yeah, you,” he called up, his thick brows lifting in amusement as he gestured for me to come down. He gave another playful wave, the joy and mischief in his expression undeniable.
I couldn’t help but laugh, my heart light and fluttering. Pedestrians, some still in the midst of their holiday shopping, paused to take in the scene. A few whispered to one another, speculating about what was happening, while others smiled, their cheeks rosy from the cold as they held cups of steaming cocoa or tucked gloved hands into the arms of their companions.
I waved back, excitement bubbling up inside me.
“Give me a minute,” I called down before hurrying back through the window into the warmth of my apartment. My heart raced as I headed straight for my bedroom, but just as I reached for the doorknob, I realized I’d left the window wide open.
I spun around and retraced my steps, rushing to close it before all the heat escaped into the night. Before I had tugged it down halfway, I glanced out one more time to make sure I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. Sure enough, there was Darren, still standing beside the sleigh, now leaning casually against the side with that ever-present grin of his, as though he had all the time in the world. He waved again, this time a little slower, and winked.
My heart officially melted. I quickly closed the window and scurried back to my bedroom, where I pulled on my thick woolen socks and my snow boots. The boots weren’t glamorous, but they’d keep my feet warm in the snow. I hurriedly slipped into a cream-colored sweater and then threw on my long coat before grabbing a knitted scarf and gloves from the hallway closet on my way out the door.
The click of the door behind me echoed through the stairwell as I bounded down the steps, my boots tapping quickly against the wooden planks. I was breathing fast with excitement, and by the time I reached the bottom, the cold air hit me again like a brisk kiss from winter itself.
Darren was waiting for me beside the sleigh, his tall figure framed by the soft light of the streetlamps that made the snow around him shimmer. His dark eyes twinkled as he opened his arms wide, welcoming me.
“Surprise,” he said, his voice warm and teasing as he helped me up into the sleigh. His hands, strong and sure, guided me as I stepped onto the wooden side and settled into the plush velvet seat.
Once I was in place, he pulled a thick, heavy blanket around my shoulders, tucking the corners snugly around me. The material was softer than I expected, and the warmth immediately spread through me, cutting through the chill in the air.
“I wanted to make sure you experienced the reopening of the Christmas Lodge,” Darren said, leaning in close as he spoke, his breath misting between us. His voice was filled with affection, like he’d been planning this for a while. “It’s been closed for years, and I know how much you’ve wanted to see it. I thought this would be the perfect way to kick off the season.”
My heart swelled at his words, and I couldn’t help but grin at the thought of what lay ahead. Everyone said the Christmas Lodge, a beloved part of Holiday Junction’s history, had been a magical place before it closed down years ago, and apparently now it was reopening. I’d not heard that.
“I can’t believe it,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Anything for you,” he said and put his arm around me.
The sleigh jolted gently as the horses shifted, eager to be off. Darren took my gloved hand in his and gave it a soft squeeze as the coachman snapped the reins, and with the gentle jingle of the bells, we were off, gliding down the snow-covered street toward the Christmas Lodge.
The world around us felt like a snow globe, with snowflakes swirling in the air as we made our way through the festively decorated streets.
This month was going to be incredible. ...
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