~~~~~*~~~~~

Things were always crazy at the bakery during the run up to Christmas. And of course this was exactly the time when he turned up out of the blue and flipped her life upside down.

Maggie both loved and dreaded the pre-Christmas rush. There was always a sudden surge of customers demanding items that the bakery never served the rest of the year; traditional English mince pies with a festive dusting of confectioner’s sugar, naughty mince pies (which had a secret drizzle of Brandy or Whiskey added into the mincemeat), lattice and standard pies with a plethora of festive fillings to choose from, and, of course, a variety of gingerbread items all made with the family’s secret recipe.

The kitchen–and Maggie, it seemed–took on a festive aroma that was a mixture of cranberries, apple peel, mixed spices and cinnamon. It was quintessentially Christmassy and was what kept the traditional wooden door at the front of the store in constant use during the festive season.

“Maggie, we need more pies! I just sold our last one,” a deep voice called from the front of the store.

“Okay dad!” Maggie called back as she wiped the sleeves of her cranberry red sweater across her brow and puffed out her cheeks. She surveyed the mass of pies and pastries still awaiting their turn in the oven and tried not to feel overwhelmed. She had almost caught up on the pre-orders, but the demand for the shop stock was growing. Somehow she needed to magic up another batch of pies before the customers became restless.

Maggie had been working in her family’s bakery in the small town of Silverwood, Colorado since leaving catering college.

It hadn’t exactly been her dream; at the time she’d had much higher aspirations for her life, but the ease of working with family, her fondness not only of the business, which her great-grandfather, Ernest, had started, and the town, had proved too irresistible. Years had passed in the blink of an eye, and now, according to some of the regular customers, it was as though she’d always worked there.

"Coming up!" Maggie called back as cheerfully as she could muster before rolling up her sleeves and getting stuck in.

“After all,” she said quietly to herself, “these pies won’t put themselves in the oven.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

Silverwood was a small silver mining town located in southwestern Colorado, with a population of only a few hundred. Mountains, which remained snow-capped for most of the year, flanked it on one side, and although it was within driving distance of one of Colorado’s famous skiing destinations–which helped to keep the town tidy and the building facades pretty, thanks to the ever present possibility of visiting tourists–it was a quiet, sleepy place, where everyone knew everyone else, and the term ‘being neighborly’ actually meant something.

The Little family ran the bakery with pride and an awful lot of love. Over the years it’d become a staple part of the community, and had survived year after year even through recession, and one year a sugar shortage when the road out of town had become impassable in the very depths of winter.

It was an idyllic place to live for young and old alike, especially when it snowed.

Even though she’d witnessed it nearly every year for twenty-five years, the first pre-Christmas dusting of snow still sent Maggie’s heart racing, and her feet plodding straight over to the diner across the street. There she’d order the first hot chocolate of the season–with whipped cream and little pink and white spongy marshmallows–and stare out the window longingly at the mountains as they grew steadily whiter.

Maggie wasn’t a great skier, despite living in what was essentially a mountain town. She’d been a few times when she was younger, but hadn’t enjoyed it enough to make it a habit. The mountains themselves, however, seemed to have a hold over her. Their enduring beauty never failed to take her breath away, and although she was a keen painter, she’d never been able to capture their magnificence on paper.

She considered it a challenge, and she was prepared to pursue it no matter how long it took.

Despite having been to college, Maggie had returned to her home town as quiet and shy as she’d left. She made friends easily and was a pleasant person to know, but she kept herself to herself and was a bit of a loner.

Living in Silverwood suited her. There were lots of pleasant places to go walking, enough social events in town to keep life interesting, and the people she knew didn’t demand great conversation from her. They knew that she was shy and left it at that.

Although she had dreams and aspirations like anyone, deep in her heart Maggie knew that it would take a big push in the right direction to get her to leave the sleepy town.

~~~~~*~~~~~

The mad lunchtime rush gave way to a quiet afternoon in the Little bakery. As things were so quiet, Maggie didn't mind being left alone to man the register whilst her dad went on some last minute Christmas shopping around town.

Maggie loved being left alone in the bakery.

She’d reminisce about her dreams of one day having her own baking business, and although she’d never said anything to either of her parents, she had hopes that her dream might still come true. When alone she’d pretend that she was the sole owner of ‘Little Bakery’, and in her mind she’d dream up the sugary confections she’d fill the shelves with were she in charge. She could easily pass hours this way in quiet contentment.

It was while she was half day-dreaming, half wiping down the counter tops by the register that he burst into her life, throwing open the door of the store and rushing inside as the shopkeeper’s bell chimed away loudly. He stomped his feet several times on the welcome mat and coughed loudly, his chest wheezing with the action.

Maggie started slightly and stared at him, or at least what she assumed was a ‘him’. It was hard to tell under the dark beanie hat which he’d pulled low over his ears, and the layers of knitted scarf which he’d wound tightly around his neck multiple times, hiding most of his face from view. She swallowed hard and tried to conceal how his abrupt entrance had startled her.

The stranger turned and looked at her with penetrating blue eyes, which were framed by thick lashes, and bushy, fair eyebrows.

Maggie did her best not to stare.

“Hello,” she said, her voice sounding a little off. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Welcome to Little bakery. How can I help you?”

The stranger’s eyes crinkled slightly, and he unwound the loops of his scarf from around his face. In a few seconds Maggie could confirm that the stranger was in fact a ‘he’.

“I’m starving,” he said, pounding his gloved hands together, presumably to get the blood flowing back into them. It was freezing outside, and the way he seemed to be bundled up against the cold suggested to Maggie that he wasn’t used to the climate. Presumably he was a visitor from out of town staying at the ski resort, she thought.

He made his way across the store to eye up the selection in the chilled cabinet. There were a plethora of selections to choose from; some served with cream, others with a decorative sprinkling of chocolate flakes and sprinkles, and even the odd handmade chocolate truffle added in to tempt the customers.

Maggie smiled to herself as she watched him browse. She was proud of the amount of choice they were able to offer in the bakery, and she enjoyed watching the visitor’s reactions as they eyed up the bounty before them. She didn’t like to boast, but she was pretty good at her job.

The stranger’s eyes flicked up to meet hers and Maggie had to concentrate to keep herself from noisily sucking in a breath. Maybe it was the flash of icy air that’d arrived when he’d opened the door, or she’d inhaled too much confectioner’s sugar whilst dusting the mince pies earlier, but suddenly she felt lightheaded.

“You have anything savory?” he asked, his face pulling into a sideways grin. Maggie stared at him with wide eyes, telling herself over and over again that it was not okay to reach out and stroke a customer’s cheek, no matter how soft it looked.

“Er… yes,” she said, turning and pointing at the cabinet on the opposite side of the register. It was stacked with pretzels, savory plaits and pastries, as well as the obligatory baguettes and sandwiches Maggie and her dad prepared every lunch time. Even though it was early afternoon, there were still a few left to choose from.

“Ah!” The stranger said, his eyes twinkling at Maggie. “Just what I was looking for!”

Maggie smiled weakly. She didn’t know what was happening, but now her hands had started shaking. Hiding them behind the counter she hoped that it would’ve worn off by the time he’d made his selection. She wouldn’t be able to work the till with trembling hands.

“Are you new in town?” she heard herself ask and her cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment. What had possessed her to ask that, she wondered? How nosey she sounded.

“Yeah… I’m just passing through,” he replied absently, his eyes not leaving the brightly lit display cabinet. He turned his head and pointed a gloved finger at one of the piles of vegetable filled pastries that were stacked in a pyramid formation. It’d taken Maggie a good ten minutes that morning just to arrange them to her satisfaction, an action her dad had described as ‘time wasting’. “Are those veggie?”

Maggie nodded as his eyes once again met hers, and she uttered a weak sound of affirmation.

The stranger straightened and approached the counter once again. “Okay, I’ll take three veggie pastry things, a pretzel and…” his eyes darted around before settling on the pile of iced gingerbread Christmas trees next to the register. Maggie’s dad had found over the years that displaying the gingerbread next to the till had an almost ninety-eight percent success rate of a sale. Maggie put this down to the irresistible combination of cinnamon and pumpkin pie spice that made up the aroma of her gingerbread. Maggie’s dad said it was because people were greedy. “... a gingerbread tree.”

Maggie smiled. “Of course.”

It didn’t take long for her to gather his purchases, and before she knew it he was hiding his face beneath layers of his scarf once again. Maggie didn’t know why–part of her didn’t want to–but she felt kind of disappointed. She’d enjoyed serving this mysterious stranger, and as there weren’t many eligible young bachelors in town, the excitement of meeting a handsome stranger had given her a bit of a thrill.

“See ya then,” he said as he waved a hand at her amiably before grasping at the door handle and yanking the door open. He visibly winced as the icy cold wind cut into the parts of his face that weren’t covered by his hat or scarf. He went back out into the wind and snow without a backwards glance at Maggie, who watched as he fought against the wind and walked past the window until he was out of sight.

As the shopkeeper’s bell continued its chiming, Maggie stared down at the wooden floor where the stranger’s boots had left puddles of slushy, grey snow. She didn’t know why, but she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last she saw of the mysterious stranger. And, although she realized that she should know better at her age, she had a niggling feeling inside that it might not be.

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

By the time Maggie left work that evening it was dark outside and the wind had picked up making it feel a lot colder. She wrapped her black duffel coat around her and lowered her chin so that her scarf and hood were covering most of her face. Although she’d only been outside a few seconds, her eyes had already begun to water.

Maggie wiped at her eyes and let out a soft huff causing her breath to billow out of her mouth in a cloud of white. It was beautiful outside–that she absolutely couldn’t deny–but sometimes she wished that the beauty didn’t come at the price of freezing her butt off.

There was a small parking lot at the end of Main Street where Maggie usually parked her car, but she’d have to endure a wintery walk before she could safely tuck herself inside and whack up the heater. She wrapped her arms tighter around her body and dipped forward into the wind. Although the sidewalks were swept and gritted daily, by evening there were usually at least a few inches of snow compacted along the paths. Maggie knew from experience that even if the way looked clear there could still be patches of black ice underfoot.

It was during this daily walk to her car in the evening that Maggie’s mind usually ran over the events of the day. Today, unsurprisingly, she was absorbed by the piercing pair of blue eyes that still seemed ingrained in her memory.

Maggie didn’t have to concentrate too much on her drive home. Once she turned right at the end of Main Street, then took a left half way along Second Street, she need only follow the road until she reached the partially hidden entrance to her family’s land. Like the bakery, the family home–a traditional ranch style house partially built in brick and wood–had been passed down from her great-grandfather.

Maggie pulled up alongside her brother in law’s burgundy truck and let out a groan. There could only be one reason her sister’s family was over and it wasn’t because of the weather. She’d completely forgotten that it was family dinner night.

On any other night Maggie wouldn’t have objected, but tonight the last thing she wanted to do was be surrounded by her noisy, nosey family. She wanted to hide away in her room and think about the piercing pair of eyes she couldn’t get out of her mind. Tonight she wanted to be someone other than Maggie Little, who worked in her family’s bakery. Tonight everything felt different.

She felt different.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, but somehow everything in her life seemed a little less interesting than it had before. Her car, which she loved, seemed more run down and in need of a paint job. The family home, which to most people’s standards would have seemed idyllic, was nothing but the place she lived in with her parents. And her job, which usually gave her such satisfaction, just didn’t seem to have the same appeal it had the day before. Life seemed a little duller all round.

It felt as though she were having an out of body experience, seeing everything from an outsider’s point of view.

An outsider with blue eyes, maybe.

Maggie let out a sigh, shut off the engine and opened the driver’s side door. At once the cold wind struck her, and she tightened her scarf around her face to stop it biting at her already chapped cheeks. Just a few more minutes and she’d be in the warm, she told herself as she fought against the wind to slam the driver’s door closed. She’d get through dinner and then disappear off to her room to snuggle under her duvet and watch a movie. It was hardly exciting evening plans, but at least she wouldn’t have to venture back out into the cold.

Maggie unlocked the front door and trudged inside. The treads in her boots were compacted with snow and they squeaked as she crossed the hall to hang her coat on the rack beside the numerous other coats drying in the warm air. The hallway was always a cozy place to be. Usually because it was one of the first rooms her mother decorated before Christmas. She always said that it was important to provide a welcoming environment to a home, and boy did she try her best to do just that.

There were garlands of holly and green foliage wound around the wooden railings of the staircase all the way to the second floor. Intertwined in this was the occasional red satin ribbon, slices of air-dried orange and apple and gold baubles in various sizes, some matt and some glossy. In front of the large window that overlooked the front drive was a candle arch with its soft yellow glow reflecting in the glass. It had been sitting in that same position every Christmas for as long as Maggie could remember, and the sight of it alone helped to raise her spirits a little.

And, of course, there was the huge fir tree that dominated the space besides the staircase. Although it was currently empty of presents underneath its branches, it wasn’t lacking in Christmas spirit. It was packed with different colored decorations, some that had been passed down through the generations, and some purchased as recently as that week. There was barely a space to add anything else to the tree, but that was just how the Little family liked it. It was busy and colorful, but full of sentimental value.

Maggie shook off her snow flecked hat and scarf and hung them on the same hook as her coat. Fluffing out her long, curly hair she then tore off her gloves and stuffed them into the nearest pocket on her coat. They probably needed drying out properly before putting away but she didn’t care. She’d find a fresh, dry pair to wear tomorrow.

Telling herself to get a grip and put aside whatever melancholy mood had taken over her, Maggie let out a deep breath and attempted to fix a somewhat contented smile on her face. She really had no reason to be unhappy, she told herself. So a handsome stranger had walked in and then straight out of her life– so what? At least his appearance had added some interest to an otherwise standard, busy day.

“Aunt Maggie! Aunt Maggie! Look what I made in school!”

Maggie had just about wheedled out of her boots before her nephew, Max, shoved a colorful piece of paper into her hand. She wobbled slightly to catch her balance and dropped the boots loudly onto the wooden floor so she could scoop him up into her arms.

He was really getting too big–not to mention heavy–for being carried around, but she couldn’t resist occasionally. There was something about his big brown eyes and blond curls that made it almost impossible for her to refuse a cuddle.

“It’s my Christmas presents,” Max explained with a toothy grin as Maggie tried not to crumple his picture in her hand. She had a closer look at the drawing, but couldn’t make out anything in the smudges of different colored paints and sparkly glitter glue. Now that Christmas was approaching, the kindergarten teachers seemed to be bringing out the messy craft activities, and Max was enjoying the chance to express himself. However, a talent for art he clearly did not have.

“Christmas presents?” Maggie teased giving him a tickle under the ribs which made him shriek and giggle. “Who says you’re getting presents this year?” She ran a hand through a few of his messier curls to smooth them, and as she did so she let out an unconscious sigh which caused Max to gaze at her in surprise.

Maggie caught his eye and quickly pulled a funny face. “So family dinner, huh?” she said, her mouth pulling up into a crooked smile.

“Yup. Nanny's made beef stew, and daddy said if I eat all the vegetables I can have a chocolate decoration from the tree.”

Maggie sniggered. They both knew he’d be getting a chocolate decoration whether he ate his dinner or not. That was just how it worked in their family– the little boys practically got away with anything.

“Hi honey,” Maggie’s mom, Kate, said as she spotted Maggie in the doorway. She flashed a quick smile at her daughter before continuing to pour steaming portions of stew into bowls. Maggie lowered Max to his feet and watched as he scampered across the room to find an empty place at the table.

“Hello,” Maggie said as she gave a general wave at the faces gathered around the dining table. As predicted her sister and brother in law were there along with their eldest son, Austin. Austin was almost twelve and spent most of his time with a semi-permanent frown on his face. He was in the phase of using grunts instead of words, and because of this Maggie rarely knew what to say to him. She reached out and ruffled his hair slightly as she passed, enjoying the look of irritation that crossed his young face.

“Just in time,” Maggie’s dad, Greg, said as she found a spare seat at the large, wooden table. As usual for the time of year, the faded Christmas placemats that Kate put out every year were positioned before each chair along with the garishly painted clay napkin holders that Maggie and her sister had made years ago. They, too, were faded and the varnish flaking, but Kate insisted on using them year after year regardless.

“You’re home late, girly,” Greg said as he sat next to Maggie and immediately reached for the pile of bread rolls from the bowl in the center of the table. “Busy afternoon? You should’ve called and I’d have come back.”

Maggie met her dad’s eyes and shook her head. She didn’t really want to explain why she was late home. In fact, she hadn’t realized that she was late until he mentioned it. She guessed that she must have been dawdling on her way home. “No,” she said, unsure of what to say. “I just had some trouble starting the car. It was actually quiet after you left.”

“At least you’ve got a hot dinner to come home to,” her mom said with a smile as she placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of her and took her place at the table. Maggie had to agree. It was one benefit of still living at home; although she needed reminding of that now and again.

“If you’re having trouble with the car I can take a look at it,” Scotty, her brother in law, offered through a mouthful of stew. He was a wannabe mechanic, and although he had no actual training, he was pretty good at fixing up cars. Maggie immediately felt bad for using her car as an excuse for her tardiness. It felt almost a betrayal after all the years of reliability it had given her.

“No, it’s okay,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I think it was just a blip.”

“Okay…” Scotty said, flicking his eyes at Maggie’s sister, Gem, in a way that said he didn’t quite believe her. Maggie tried not to get irritated by his tone and the way he always insinuated that no one but he knew anything about cars. She’d been driving her trusty Honda for almost three years, and she felt she knew it better than anyone. She certainly knew enough to know when there was something wrong with it.

“You better take care of that car,” Maggie’s mother said as she flashed Maggie a stern look, “I don’t want you getting stranded somewhere, especially in the snow. Maybe you should take Scotty up on his offer? It couldn’t hurt.”

“Like I said,” Maggie replied, trying to keep the bite out of her words. “It was just a blip. There’s really nothing wrong with my car.” Maggie glanced sideways at her dad, but he was deliberately keeping his eyes fixed on his bowl as he continued to spoon food into his mouth. Usually he jumped to her defense when the family ganged up on her, but he either agreed with them, or just didn’t want to get involved this time.

“Mags, Scotty knows what he’s doing,” Gem said, adding her own two cents. “He can take a look at it at least. What’s the harm in that?”

“Okay, fine! Jeez!” Maggie exclaimed irritably. Next thing Austin would start telling her she really should get her oil changed more often. She gave Scotty a brief smile across the table and ducked her head to eat her food in what she hoped would be relative peace.

Unfortunately, her family didn't seem to get the hint.

"Are you able to have Max tomorrow afternoon?" Gem asked hopefully, fixing Maggie with a look she'd come to recognize over the years. It was a mixture of blind hopefulness with a dash of desperation. Consequently, it was very difficult to say no to.

"I...er..." Maggie's eyes flicked over to her young nephew who was sitting on his booster seat grinning at her with a slightly open mouth. If there was a way out of this without hurting someone’s feelings she needed to think of it A.S.A.P.

"You know, I think Maggie has her hands full working at the bakery without having to add babysitting duties on top," Maggie's dad added as he fixed his eyes on Gem and raised an eyebrow. Gem stared back at him, her eyes flashing with annoyance. It was a badly kept secret that very few people said no to Gem Morgan, but Greg Little was one of those who came closest.

"I really don't have a choice!" Gem spluttered, flicking her eyes over to Maggie whose resolve was quickly crumbling. Now she was no longer at the center of the conversation she was madly trying to think of an excuse, but nothing was forthcoming. "I've gotta take as many extra shifts as I can to pay for—" her eyes flicked between her two sons and settled on Max, who unlike Austin, still believed in Santa, "you know what."

"I'm sure it won't be a problem..." Maggie muttered quietly and Gem's eyes turned to her as a grateful smile crossed her face.

"Thank you, I'm just so pushed at this time of year."

"So is your sister," Greg reminded Gem gently. "Just this once more, okay? If you're having trouble with sitters then perhaps me and your mother could help out more. You shouldn't be putting more pressure on your sister."

"Come on, dad! It's not like Maggie has as many responsibilities as the rest of us. I'm trying to work to support my family here."

"Hey!" Maggie objected, feeling hurt. This always happened whenever the babysitting subject came up. Gem always seemed to think that Maggie should be available to babysit whenever as she was single and had no children of her own. It was something that always caused tensions between the sisters. "Just because I'm... you know...single doesn't mean I don't have things to do with my time."

Gem looked at her and snorted with amusement. "Come on, Mags. You work at the bakery and then come home to put on your PJ's and watch movies or read in bed. You're hardly living the high life."

"Don't start on your sister," Kate interrupted, pointing her finger sternly at Gem who pouted in response. Maggie could almost laugh as the familiar expression appeared across her sister's face. It was like they were back being teenagers, squabbling over the dinner table about who would get to watch what on the one TV in the living room.

"I'm just saying it'd be great if my family could help me out at this difficult time of year," Gem said, meeting her mother's eyes and changing her voice to sound softer. She knew exactly how to get round her mother when she was in that mood. "You remember what it was like having young children, mom," she continued, reaching out to place a hand across the back of her youngest son's chair. Nothing got around Kate quicker than her two grandsons. "I just wanna give my boys a great Christmas."

Maggie glowered across the table at her sister, seeing how manipulative she was being, but knowing she was likely to succeed. She glanced at Scotty, who was remaining suspiciously quiet and raised an accusing eyebrow. Now would be a very good time for him to say something, and yet he was remaining silent. Clearly he'd learned to keep his mouth shut.

"Once more," Maggie's dad said before Kate caved completely and agreed to something that Maggie would probably regret. Gem's eyes flicked back to her father, and she flashed him a winning smile.

"That's all I need, daddy."

Maggie humphed and met her sister's eyes, saying all she needed to in one look.

"Just once more, Mags," Gem said, nodding her head as convincingly as she could. "I promise that's all it'll be. I'll even pick him up from school myself and drop him off for you. Deal?"

Maggie tried not to smile, but rolled her eyes and let out a chuckle anyways. "Fine. Deal."

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

Maggie knew that he wouldn’t turn up the next day, or likely the day after, but that didn’t stop her from glancing at the door every time the shopkeeper’s bell rang. She knew that it was silly, not to mention pointless, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Just the thought of seeing Blue Eyes again filled her stomach with butterflies, and although she knew that it was incredibly unlikely that he would show up, she couldn’t stop hoping.

As promised, Gem dropped Max off a little after three in the afternoon, which gave Maggie plenty of time to plan an activity to keep him amused while she worked. He was usually easy to keep entertained at the bakery; some cutters and a ball of bread dough to make shapes with usually held his attention for hours. Or, failing that, he was old enough to help stir the cake batters and decorate the cupcakes. Occasionally she’d let him sit on the counter in the store front and chat to the customers, but Maggie preferred to keep him busy in the kitchen.

Today, she thought she’d let him play with the dough and cutters, which had been her dad’s go to activity when he’d been responsible for watching her as a small child. With any luck it’d keep him amused for most of the afternoon so she could catch up on the pie orders she was getting behind on. The demand for pies seemed to tenfold in the run up to Christmas, and Maggie knew if she hadn’t caught up by the end of the day she’d definitely lose track of the orders.

Her intention was to keep Max amused long enough for her to finish and still have time to spare. Or at least that was the plan.

~~~~~*~~~~~

“I’m boooored…” Max whined as he kicked his heels against the metal legs of the stool he was sitting on. He was too short to reach the counter tops without it, and Maggie didn’t have time to keep rushing back and forth to assist him in reaching for things that were out of his grasp.

“I’m kinda busy here, Max,” Maggie said from where she stood in front of the stove, stirring a pan of molten cherry pie filling. It smelt amazing and was steadily bubbling away as it cooked. “Keep playing with your dough a little longer, ‘kay buddy?”

“I can’t,” Max complained.

Maggie couldn’t risk leaving the stove for a minute to tend to him. One second too long on the heat and the pie filling would take on the consistency of a thick jam. Not very appetizing and certainly not what her customers would be expecting.

“Why not, Maxey?” she asked putting on her most patient voice although she was feeling anything but. She continued stirring the mixture so it didn’t stick to the sides of the pan. Maggie had been making pies for long enough that she no longer needed to use a thermometer to tell her when the filling was cooked. She could feel by hand when it was ready by the way the texture changed and the juice solidified on the spoon.

“I’ve eaten it all…” Max said in a small voice.

“You’re not supposed to eat raw bread dough, you donut,” Maggie said through gritted teeth as she pulled the heavy pan off the heat, and not a moment too soon. She set it aside out of harm’s way to cool and turned the flame off on the hob. Taking a deep, calming breath she headed over to her nephew to confirm that he had, in fact, consumed a whole ball of dough.

“You’re going to be sorry for that later,” she told him as she rustled his hair. “You’re gonna have one hell of a stomach ache.”

“I want to make cookies!” Max said, the dimples in his round cheeks showing as he stared up at her eagerly, completely disregarding her solemn warning. At the glint in his eye, Maggie wondered whether he hadn’t eaten the dough deliberately so she’d have to find him something else to do.

“What kind of cookies?” Maggie asked, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall besides the large fridge-freezer. There’d be time to make a few batches of cookies only if a mad rush of customers didn’t arrive before closing time as they’d done all week so far.

“Gingerbread!” Max cried enthusiastically. “Can we?”

Maggie let out a sigh and pretended to need time think about it. “As long as you promise not to eat any more dough,” she said. “I’ll be in trouble with your mom if you’re sick tonight. You know she doesn’t like you eating too many sweet things.”

Which is ironic, considering our family has made its money for generations selling sweet goods, Maggie thought with a wry smile.

“I promise,” Max said, flashing her a winning smile. “Promise, promise, promise!”

~~~~~*~~~~~

Maggie was up to her elbows in gingerbread dough–literally–when she heard the shopkeeper’sbell ring, and even Max's head snapped to attention at the sound. It'd been so long since anyone had entered the shop they'd both almost forgotten that the bakery was still open for business.

It was a wake-up call for Maggie, who’d become way too absorbed in the activity that had been meant for her nephew.

"Customer," Max said in a loud whisper as he stared down at his congealed hands. They were covered in the sticky brown mixture which Maggie realized at once would take several washes before it came off.

"Sounds like it," Maggie said, skipping over to the oven to check that the batches baking wouldn't be ruined by being left alone for several more minutes. She ran her hands under the faucet until they were respectably clean and dried them briskly on her batter smattered apron. Even though she'd been doing it for years, she still got nervous when she had to serve a customer by herself.

"You stay here, okay? I'll be right back. Don’t go near the stove."

"Ok," Max replied absently, his attention occupied by his sticky hands. He seemed to be trying to permanently glue his hands together with the mixture, and each time he pulled them apart he seemed genuinely surprised to find he could.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then.”

Maggie ran her hands once again down her apron and headed off to the front of the store, almost tripping over her feet in her haste. She took a few minutes to spot the customer from where they were crouched in front of the chilled cabinet, and in that time Maggie almost decided that whoever had entered the bakery had left before she'd arrived.

However, at hearing the sound of her footsteps, the customer rose and flashed a kilowatt smile at her from underneath the familiar beanie that was pulled low over his brow.

“Hello again.”

Maggie froze, and in that moment it seemed as though her heart exploded in her chest. She was practically breathless at the surprise of seeing him once again, and she completely forgot all about the five year old she’d left unaccompanied in the kitchen.

He was wearing the same thick, black duffel coat as before with the collar pulled up close to his ears, and by the way his shoulders were hunched and he seemed to be hopping from foot to foot she could sense he still wasn’t accustomed to the almost arctic conditions outside.

“Hi,” Maggie replied, a little too late for it to not sound awkward. If Blue Eyes noticed he didn’t let on, and if anything his grin seemed to grow wider at the slight nervous wobble in her voice.

I must look like a flushed, grinning idiot, Maggie thought as she once again ran her hands nervously down the front of her apron. They were damp for an entirely different reason now. Calm down, she repeated to herself over and over as she stared at him with wide eyes.

“Your gingerbread should come with a health warning, you know,” Blue Eyes said as he took a step closer to the counter. Maggie stared at him with a horrified expression plastered across her face, unsure whether he was joking. Was he about to complain? Could she handle it if he did? And yet his eyes were so warm and his smile so genuine she found it hard to believe. People who were about to complain didn’t usually look at her like that.

In fact, hardly anyone usually looked at her like that…

“Oh, really?” she answered weakly before attempting a relaxed smile that came across as more of a grimace. She placed her hands in front of her on the counter and hoped Blue Eyes wouldn’t notice they’d begun to shake. It was crazy the effect he had on her; she knew nothing about him, and had only met him twice, and yet her whole body seemed to go into shock whenever he was around.

“Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about it up on that mountain,” he said.

Ah, Maggie thought. So he’s staying at the ski resort.

“Had to come back and get me some more,” Blue Eyes said as he tilted his head to the side and grinned at her in a way that made her insides ache. “You have more, right?”

“Here’s some,” a little voice said, but Maggie’s attention was so caught up in the handsome stranger’s face it took a few minutes for her to understand that Max had left the kitchen and was heading towards Blue Eyes with a plate of very homemade looking gingerbread they’d both just finished icing. It wasn’t that they were inedible per say, but they were well below the standard usually sold at the Little Bakery.

“Max, no!” Maggie shouted when she realized what was happening, but before she knew it, it was already too late. Blue Eyes was mid chew of one of the garishly colored cookies whilst Max looked on in obvious delight.

At the sound of her cry, Blue Eyes turned to Maggie with an expression of horror on his face and froze mid chew. “How bad is it?” he asked in a muffled voice, his cheeks billowing out in an effort to be polite and keep the cookie crumbs from splattering all over the counter top.

“Huh?”

“The cookies,” Blue Eyes muttered as he raised a hand to point to his mouth. “What’s wrong with them? Did he sneeze in the mixture or something?”

“Oh, no,” Maggie said before letting out an audible sigh of relief. “It’s nothing like that. It’s just those weren’t really meant for the customers, right, Max?” She fixed her nephew with a look he’d learned to mind over the years and in response his head bowed and his shoulders sagged.

“Why don’t you get…,” she had to stop herself before the words ‘Blue Eyes’ slipped out of her mouth, “the customer a glass of water from the kitchen?” she suggested, hoping that he wasn’t feeling too upset and embarrassed about being told off. Max gave her a weak smile and quickly headed back to the kitchen without another word.

“He’s quite something, your son,” Blue Eyes said as he watched Max leave.

“He’s not my son,” Maggie said quickly–maybe a little too quickly– before blushing profusely at the suggestion. She dipped her head in the way she always did when she felt embarrassed and avoided his eyes. “He’s my nephew, actually.”

“Oh, right,” Blue eyes said, smiling at the way her cheeks flushed and she avoided meeting his gaze. “Your nephew,” he repeated. “Maybe it’s just me but isn’t he a little young—“

“To be working here?” Maggie finished for him before letting out a snort of amusement. When you were raised in a family that ran its own business there was no such thing as too young to work. Maggie knew this better than anyone–she’d been helping out since she was a toddler. “It’s a family business,” she explained, “but I watch him ‘cause my sister works long hours. He comes here so she doesn’t have to pay for a sitter.”

“That’s kind of a relief I must say,” Blue Eyes chuckled. “So no child labor in Silverwood?”

“Not in this bakery,” Maggie said with a smile.

“So what’s your role in the family business?” he asked, although he really needn’t have bothered. She was covered almost head to toe in flour and confectioner’s sugar after all, thanks in no small part to Max.

Maggie blushed. His questions seemed a little more personal than she was used to. Usually all people wanted to know was whether she had any gluten free bread to sell, or whether the white chocolate brownies had fewer calories than the milk chocolate variety. She wasn’t used to answering questions about herself. “I do the baking,” she said, brushing vigorously at an obvious flour stain on her sleeve. “Well some of it at least.”

“So you made most of the stuff here?” Blue Eyes asked, glancing around at the displays of breads and pastries on the shelves around the store.

“Kind of,” Maggie said shyly. “My dad makes the breads, but I make the pastries and the sweet goods.”

“Here’s your water,” Max said as he returned from the kitchen. He held the glass up for Blue Eyes to take, but instead of drinking, he winked at Max and placed the glass onto the counter top. Bending down so he was at Max’s eye level, Blue Eyes grinned and said, “So you’ve been making gingerbread cookies? That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” Max said, his face brightening, “Maggie let me make them all by myself.”

“Maggie,” Blue Eyes repeated, turning his head to meet Maggie’s eyes. He straightened and took a step towards the counter so he could hold out a hand for her to shake. “Hi Maggie, I’m Justin.”

Maggie stared at his hand for a moment, unsure whether it was wise for her to take. One touch and she might turn to a pool of jelly at his feet. She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. She’d become so accustomed to thinking of him as ‘Blue Eyes’ it seemed almost strange to hear that he had a real name.

She shook his palm briefly and then quickly stuffed her hand back into the wide pocket on the front of her apron, pretending she hadn’t enjoyed the feel of his warm skin against hers as much as she had. Justin continued to watch her for a moment before continuing his conversation with Max. “And you’re Max, right?”

“Yup.”

“I know I’m probably going out on a limb here, but do you think you could show me how you make the gingerbread?” Blue Eyes asked, and although he was speaking to Max, Maggie had a feeling the question was actually directed at her.

“Customers aren’t allowed in the kitchen,” Max said hesitantly, repeating the number one rule he’d heard Maggie’s dad say a million times. It was the rule they’d all sworn never to break, but Maggie’s resolve was already crumbling. She had a terrible feeling that the more she got to know this stranger, the harder she’d find it to deny him anything.

Max looked at her eagerly, his dimples showing once again, and Maggie could tell from that look alone he wanted to break the rules as much as she did. “I guess if you won’t tell anyone,” she said, looking directly at her nephew.

And she meant it.

She’d be in heaps of trouble if this ever got back to the family, but unlike Austin–who she suspected would enjoy spilling the beans for his own entertainment. He was just that kind of kid–she knew that Max would do his best to keep it a secret. “Cross your heart?”

Justin and Max grinned at her with matching mischievous grins and Maggie realized that she was already in tons of trouble. But this kind of trouble had nothing to do with breaking her father’s rules, and all about breaking her own.

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

“You’re supposed to be whisking that,” Maggie said as she glanced over Justin’s shoulder at the off-white, slightly foamy mixture in the bowl he was clutching close to his chest. It should have been forming soft, white peaks by now, but thanks to Justin’s inadequate whisking it was far from ready. “You know what whisking is, right?”

Justin chuckled at the humor in her voice. “Am I doing something wrong, teacher?” he teased, smirking at her playfully. “Cause you can just come out and say it if I am.” He was exhausted and his arm was already starting to cramp but there was no way he was going to admit it. He didn’t want to look like a total wuss in front of this beautiful, baking goddess who’d sprung into his life from out of nowhere. Or rather, the middle of nowhere.

“Well… Maggie said, meeting his eyes and giggling at the expression on his face. Justin smiled as he noticed her lips pulling up into a sideways grin. He already loved the way her eyes danced when she smiled, and the short, suppressed giggle she let out whenever he did something she thought was funny. “You need to get the air into it,” she explained, leaning forward and peering into the bowl. The moment she’d gone into ‘teacher’ mode, her previous shyness had flown straight out the window. She was now confidently swishing around the kitchen, checking the temperature of the oven, rustling her nephew’s hair and checking his whisking action as though she were completely sure of herself. Clearly the kitchen was her domain, and she flourished in it.

“Air into it,” Justin repeated. “Got it.” He lifted his wrist higher and resumed whisking with even more fervor than before. After a few minutes the mixture seemed to transform before his eyes, and before he knew it he had perfect soft peaks forming in the bowl.

“That’s it!” Maggie encouraged, skipping across the kitchen to fetch the bowl of confectioner’s sugar she’d been measuring out. She poured it in little by little as he continued to whisk. “And when all the sugar’s combined we put it into piping bags and start icing.”

“That’s the best part!” Max said from where he was kneeling on the top of his stool, crouching over the counter with a piping bag firmly grasped in his hands and a happy grin plastered across his face. His mouth was smeared with white, along with the cuff of his sleeve, and Maggie suspected that as much icing had gone into his mouth as onto the gingerbread.

“I think it’s pretty well mixed in,” Justin said, giving the icing a final beat before handing the bowl over to Maggie’s waiting arms. She deftly cut and spooned the mixture equally into two piping bags and handed one back to him, giving it a final twist at the wide part before she did so.

“This isn’t weird, right?” he asked under his breath as Maggie steered him across the kitchen towards a spot by her nephew, who was adding the finishing touches to a gingerbread man’s tie. “I mean, I’m not interrupting family time or anything?”

“Believe me,” Maggie said with a wry smile, “we get plenty of family time.”

She met his eyes and noticed that he was watching her carefully, seemingly looking for a sign of hesitation he expected to find written somewhere on her face. Once again Maggie dipped her head and avoided his eyes, pulling her hand away while she still felt she could. She seemed to have some kind of magnetic pull to him that made her want to reach out and touch him all the time, and she was fighting that part of her with every inch of willpower she had.

He might well have given up his afternoon of skiing to learn how to make gingerbread, but that didn’t mean he was interested in her. For all she knew, he might be married… or crazy… or just really liked gingerbread.

“So I’m guessing there’s a technique to this too, right?” Justin asked, breaking the tension that was beginning to build between them. Maggie glanced at him and noticed that his crooked, half smile had returned to his face.

“Of course,” she chuckled.

“And you’re gonna show me how, right?” Justin asked hesitantly as Maggie expertly began to pipe an outline of white icing around a gingerbread man before filling in wavy lines around his feet and hands. Before too long she’d filled in his belt, hair, trousers and even placed three dots for buttons on his shirt.

“Hmmm… maybe,” she teased holding up her creation for him to see as a triumphant smile crossed her face.

“Challenge accepted,” Justin said as he bent over the counter and started to ice his own man. As he concentrated the tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and Maggie tried her best not to laugh. He had exactly the same expression on his face as her young nephew, but judging by his efforts, not as much talent in icing gingerbread.   

“Whaddya make of that?” he said triumphantly as he held aloft his own creation before faltering as he compared the two side by side. “Oh…”

“Maybe you just need more practice?” Maggie suggested as she fought back a snigger. It was sweet how competitive he’d become over a silly gingerbread man, and she could tell by the slight pout on his face that he wasn’t used to failing at something. It was pretty cute to see him trying, and struggling, to keep up with her.

“You think that’ll help?” Justin asked, letting out a self-depreciating laugh.

Maggie smiled and bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to lie but… “Hmmm… maybe...?” she said hesitantly.

“You know, you’re a really bad liar.”

“I know.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

Two hours and several dozen gingerbread men later, Maggie was just getting to know the intriguing stranger that’d appeared in her life.

“So you don’t really cook much?” she asked as she waited for him to finish piping a few dots on a gingerbread man’s torso before reaching past his hand to drop a few sugar coated sweets onto the icing. Now he’d had a bit more practice he really was getting the hang of it and they were working well together as a little construction line.

“What makes you say that?” he asked with a chuckle. Maggie met his eyes and saw the humor hidden in their depths. “Nah, I guess not. I mean, I can cook a few things, but I usually… don’t.”

“Takeout?”

“Most of the time, yeah. I travel a lot so it’s easier to just eat out.”

“You travel for work?” Maggie asked hoping that it didn’t sound as though she were prying. She was interested in his life and the process of events that’d led to him arriving on her doorstop. She had a few suspicions, but she was determined to reserve judgment until she’d gotten to know him better.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

“I wish I could travel more,” Maggie said with a wistful sigh. “There’s so much of the world I’d love to see.”

Justin smiled and continued piping. “Me too,” he admitted. “Most of the time I see the insides of airports and that’s about it.”

“So when you get home there’s no one there to cook for you?” Maggie asked, but immediately regretted not choosing her words more carefully. It sounded so obvious that she was fishing around for information about his relationship status, and she felt mortified that she’d uttered the words aloud. She was grateful there was only a five year old around to witness her embarrassment, and he was consumed in decorating gingerbread.

He must think I’m a complete loser to ask him such a question, Maggie thought miserably. Way to go being subtle.

If he sensed her discomfort, Justin didn’t show it. “No,” he said with a good-natured chuckle. He could tell by the flush in her cheeks that she hadn’t quite meant to ask the question that’d slipped straight out of her mouth and he found her reaction endearing. He was glad that she’d asked. It’d saved him from having to somehow work into the conversation that he was single.

He turned and flashed her another kilowatt smile. “Until I head over to my granny’s for the holidays that is,” he said, trying to lighten the tension that’d developed between them. She hadn’t looked him in the eyes since she’d spoken and he could tell she was embarrassed. “I’m pretty sure she tries to feed me my yearly allowance of calories in just a few days.” Maggie chuckled at the image, especially when he glanced down and patted his flat stomach. She wanted to roll her eyes at the implied suggestion that he might somehow be overweight. As if.

“Where’s that?” she asked, popping another sweet onto a gingerbread man’s torso and then tossing one into her mouth. “Your granny’s, I mean.”

“Tennessee,” he said, smiling at her. “My family’s from there.”

“That’s where you live?”

“Sometimes,” he said. “I share my time mostly between LA and New York.”

“Oh,” Maggie said, trying her best not to feel intimidated. Suddenly she didn’t feel quite so sure of herself. So he got to travel a lot and had multiple homes to live in, not to mention in two of the most expensive places to live in the United States? It sure made Silverwood and her life there seem rustic to say the least. “So do you usually spend the holidays with your family?”

“Yeah, mostly. I’m headed back there in a few days’ time.”

Maggie felt her stomach sink with disappointment. She’d hardly expected him to be a permanent addition to the town, but the thought of him leaving so soon was a bitter blow. It was at that moment she realized she was growing far too attached to this person, and she was setting herself up for inevitable feelings of loss when he left.

“So are you staying at the ski resort?” she asked in what she hoped was a casual way.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

Maggie shrugged. “Not many people come to Silverwood on vacation,” she said with a wry smile.

“I don’t see why not,” Justin said. He glanced up at the snow flecked window pane but it was already too dark outside for him to see anything. “This town is kinda nice,” he said before turning and meeting her gaze. She raised an eyebrow that suggested she wasn’t quite buying it. “You know, in a quaint and… basic kind of way.”

“Basic’s the word,” Maggie chuckled. “There are like four shops in Main Street, and only a launderette and a garage on Second. I’m amazed anyone bothers to stop by on their way to the resort. From what I’ve heard it’s a little different up there.”

“You’ve never been?”

“No,” Maggie said. “I’ve been skiing a few times, but we lived locally so there was no reason to stay over. Plus, everything’s much more expensive up there.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“But I guess it’s a pretty nice place to be over Christmas. I hear they decorate for the guest and put on activities for kids.”

“You heard right. It’s like a winter wonderland. Me and some friends are sharing a cabin just outside of the main resort, but even that came fully decorated. Had its own tree and everything. Every time I head outside I keep expecting to see a herd of reindeer and a sleigh on the roof.”

Justin was joking, but the fact was lost on Max who hadn’t yet learned about sarcasm. “Reindeer?” he said in a high pitched voice, turning around to face Maggie and Justin with wide eyes. “There’s reindeer? Can I go see them?”

Maggie leaned into Justin’s shoulder as she eyed the expression on her nephews face, “You’ve mentioned the R word,” she said in a whisper as she glanced up into his eyes. The closeness to his body set her heart racing, and she quickly leaned back and hurried to regain her composure. Justin saw her cheeks flush and his grin broadened.

“The R word?” he repeated. “Reindeer?”

“He’s crazy about animals,” Maggie explained, still whispering. “We may be in trouble.”

Max hopped down off the stool and padded over to where Justin was standing before staring up at him with an endearingly hopeful expression. “Can I go to see the reindeer?” he repeated in a small, pleading voice.

Justin started to laugh, but Maggie was too embarrassed to find the situation funny. “Maxey, that’s rude,” she chided him. “You can’t just invite yourself places. You’re supposed to wait to be asked.”

“But he said there’s reindeer,” Max whined as he turned to Maggie with a confused frown. “I want to see the reindeer!”

“He didn’t say there were reindeer,” Maggie corrected him, “he said… oh, nevermind…”

“Max,” Justin said seriously, bending his knees so he was face to face with the youngster. His voice was soft but authoritative, which was exactly the right way to deal with one of Max’s mini tantrums. “I tell you what, buddy. Let me take your aunt Maggie there first and if she thinks you’ll enjoy it then you can come another time, ‘kay?”

Maggie stared at Justin’s back feeling as though the rug had been pulled out from underneath her feet. She could hardly dare to believe that he’d suggested taking her along to the ski resort. Any minute now she expected to wake and discover that it’d all been a very strange, but pleasant dream.

“Whaddya say, Maggie?” Justin asked, straightening and turning to fix her with a mischievous smile. Maggie could see the humor hidden in the depths of his eyes, but also something else. Was it hope? She couldn’t tell, but she couldn’t continue looking deep in his eyes to discover either. She was starting to forget everything but how incredibly blue they were. It’d be way too easy to get lost in those eyes. “Maggie?”

“Huh?” she asked, glancing between his and Max’s face. They were both staring at her awaiting her answer, but she’d already forgotten the question. And the fact she needed to breathe.

“Do you want to go to the resort with me?” he repeated his smile widening and his eyes crinkling around the edges. Maggie stared at him, wondering how she’d come to this moment. How had this handsome man come into her life? And was he really asking her out on what she could only assume was a date? She could hardly dare to believe it was true, and yet she so badly wanted it to be it felt as though her insides were aching with the prospect. Time alone with him? That was something she barely needed time to think about.

“I…er…I’m…” she stuttered, her cheeks flushing. As much as she wanted to scream yes at the top of her voice, her mouth took a moment to catch up with her brain, and her surging hormones.   

“You know what,” Justin said with a grin. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

Maggie giggled, trying to pretend her heart was pounding away at a million miles an hour. Her whole face lit up at prospect and she nodded shyly. “Yes,” she said. “That’s a yes.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

It turned out Justin’s description of a ‘winter wonderland’ had been right on the money.

As soon as they drove through the wrought iron gates that signaled their arrival at the resort, Maggie could barely believe her eyes. There wasn’t a building, a tree, or even a rock, it seemed, that wasn’t dressed in festive holiday lights. She squinted her eyes closed a little like she used to do as a small child until all she could see was a horizon of soft, blurry warm-yellow circles of varying degrees of intensity.

“Wow,” she gushed as Justin expertly drove the black four-wheeler he’d rented along the road that led to the main complex. According to his memory, that was where the large outdoor ice rink was, and the mini ‘Christmas market’ that was a mini American version of the famous German Christmas markets. He didn’t sound as impressed by this as he had the ice rink, but Maggie was adamant that there was no way she would be lacing up a pair of skates in this, or any, century. Not that she was ready to tell him that, of course.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” Justin said, chuckling at her expression. She looked like a little kid about to see Santa for the first time, and he loved being able to do that for her.

“It’s…” she said, her voice trailing off as she stared out the window at the illuminated buildings they were passing by. Already she’d counted at least five lit Christmas trees through the windows of the hotels they were passing, each decorated in opulent, rich colored decorations. Maggie reached out and tugged awkwardly at the trim on her hand-knitted scarf. The resort certainly was beautiful, but she had the niggling feeling she wouldn’t fit in with the skiing crowd. No wonder so few of them found their way into Silverwood, she thought glumly. She doubted there was anything they might need outside the resort, which made Justin’s appearance in the bakery that day even more surprising. “…beautiful.”

At the sound of the awe in her voice, Maggie cleared her throat and glanced over at Justin to see if he’d noticed. He took his eyes off the road to grin at her. “You sound impressed.”

“I’m trying not to be,” she chuckled before glancing back out the window. “It kinda takes your breath away, you know? I don’t think I’ve seen this many lights, well…ever.”

“I know,” Justin agreed, nodding once. “See what I mean about Santa and his reindeer?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So what do you fancy doing first?” he asked as he steered the car off the main road and along a separate track that led to the first of many large parking areas. He’d been staying in the area now for only a few days and yet he already had the place completely mapped out in his head. He didn’t even need to check the signposts to direct him, and although Maggie said nothing, she was secretly impressed. She wasn’t the best with directions, and consequently she couldn’t help admiring anyone who seemed to be fitted with their own personal GPS. Hers, if it had ever been installed, was definitely broken.

“First?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing across at her quickly before returning his eyes to the road. As much as he wished to keep studying the shy smile on her face and her glowing eyes, he had to remind himself that it was dark out and the roads could well be icy. He couldn’t afford to not give his attention one-hundred percent to the road. He wouldn’t win her favor by getting them both into a nasty car wreck. “I was thinking we could do something before we have dinner somewhere.”

Maggie wanted to chuckle. He didn’t sound too sure of his plans himself. “That sounds nice,” she said, quietly fiddling again with her scarf. He was unbelievably cute, and it was only making her more bashful. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do or say to such a man, and so she automatically became more introverted. It was a nasty habit, especially as she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t interested in him. She was very interested, although she knew it was common practice to play it cool at this stage.

“Yeah?” Justin asked meeting her eyes once again. He maintained eye contact until he absolutely had to look back at the road and then cleared his throat as he clutched the steering wheel tighter. It was another forget to breathe moment for Maggie, and her stomach flipped as she noticed a tinge of red coloring the tips of his ears as she gazed at his profile. It was the first indication that he, too, was as caught up in the moment as her, and she wasn’t quite sure how to handle the information.

An unstoppable grin crossed her lips, and she quickly tucked her head down so that the lower part of her face was covered by a loop of her scarf. She didn’t want him to glance over and see her grinning like a loon.

Could she really believe that he might like her? It was almost too good to be true. What could she possibly offer him that he couldn’t find in one of the women on the ski slopes? Other than showing him how to make gingerbread, of course, which now she’d seen him in his natural environment she was regretting. What he must have thought of her prancing around the kitchen like she was the Queen of Sheba, she groaned inwardly. It was thoroughly embarrassing.

“What kind of things do you like to eat?” Justin asked, having racked his brains to think of something clever to say but come up short. He was never nervous around women, but there was something about Maggie that seemed to knock him off his game. She was different, that was obvious, but there was something else there. A vulnerability that stopped him from pursuing her in the regular way. She bought out the tom cat feelings in him he usually kept suppressed and he found himself wanting to protect and defend her against anything that kept the dazzling smile from her face. It was a brand new experience for him.

“Anything really,” she said, giving the standard polite answer that gave him practically no information. He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow that made Maggie laugh. It was obvious he wasn’t going to settle for a vague answer. “Okay,” she said, letting out a nervous chuckle. “I like Italian, Mexican… American, of course…”

“Great,” Justin said flashing a winning smile. “Leave it with me.”

Maggie tucked her chin in her scarf once again as her eyes sparkled with delight. She liked him taking charge even though it woke the anxiety monster that resided in her gut. Letting go of control was an ongoing challenge for her, which she put down to the fact that generally in her life she had control over very little. Whatever she could control she clung onto for dear life. Still, even in the short time she’d known Justin she’d come to believe that he was worth trusting, and she was willing to put her faith in him.

“There must be so many people staying here,” Maggie observed as they passed yet another several-story tall hotel on their way to the parking lot.

Justin nodded and muttered a general affirmative as he steered the car in a wide loop and backed into a free space at the far end of the lot before shutting off the engine and turning to her with a wide grin. “You ready?” he asked.

Maggie giggled at the childish grin on his face and her stomach flipped in anticipation. She was so ready.

~~~~~*~~~~~

“Here,” Justin said, twisting around to hand Maggie a steaming cup of hot chocolate from the stand he’d just purchased it from. He’d noticed her shivering as they’d ambled pleasantly around the stalls at the Christmas market, and he’d insisted on finding her a hot drink to warm her through before they went any further.

Maggie lifted the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip even though she knew the steaming liquid would scald her lips and the tip of her tongue. She met Justin’s eyes over the rim of the cup and noticed he was staring at her intently, a concerned frown creasing his brow. He was so handsome she almost choked.

“Better?” he asked, the concern even hidden in the depths of his eyes. Maggie lowered the cup and held his gaze. Once again the warming sensation in the pit of her stomach returned, and it wasn’t just because of the drink. She wasn’t imagining things–the way he looked at her and took care of her. He liked her. Maybe a lot.

“Yes,” she mumbled, her voice coming out a little croaky. She lifted the cup and took another sip to fill the silence and find something to do with her hands. She couldn’t focus when he looked at her like that, and any conversation starters she’d had running through her head moments before simply vanished.

Maggie finished her drink in a few gulps and tossed the now empty container into the nearest garbage can. For all she could say about the resort it was certainly kept pristinely clean, and considering the large number of guests staying there she figured it would be a daily challenge for the grounds keepers. She inwardly groaned and wanted to smack herself over the head for automatically relating to the staff as opposed to the guests.

“You want to carry on or shall we get something to eat?” Justin asked, trying to read her expression but coming up short. Up until she’d begun to shiver he’d thought she’d been having fun. He’d certainly been enjoying getting to know her as they wandered between the stalls talking about everything and nothing like you did when you were first getting to know someone.

When he’d visited with his friends Justin hadn’t taken much of an interest in the market. It was the same old thing he’d seen lots of times before, but somehow with Maggie it was different. She was the difference, he thought with a smile. Her glowing face and the way she pointed out things to him to see his opinion grabbed his interest and kept him present.

“No,” she said, turning to glance behind at the row of stalls they had yet to visit. “I’m having a good time.” She met his eyes and smiled encouragingly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Justin wanted to laugh. Mind? If only she knew how much he was enjoying being with her. She was a breath of fresh air to the kind of woman he usually spent his free time with, and not for the first time in the past few days he wondered what he’d been doing wasting his time with his usual ‘type’. There must have been lots of Maggies’ that he’d ignored over the years because they didn’t match up to his usual ‘type’, and he felt guilty thinking about it. But really, looking back, he’d been the one missing out.

“As long as you’re not too cold,” he said, reaching out to slip his hand around one of hers without even thinking. It was only as Maggie glanced down at their entwined hands he realized that till that moment he hadn’t touched her. Sure, they’d brushed hands several times in the bakery, but that had been accidental and had barely lasted more than a second or two. This was different, and she knew it too. It was written as clear as day all over her face. And her eyes, when they finally flicked up to meet his, were wide.

“You mind?” he asked casually, although he felt anything but. Her body language was telling him she was interested, but there was a chance he was wrong. She wasn’t as easy to read as other women he knew, but there was a certain excitement to that. It kept him guessing, and he liked having something to do in a relationship at last.

“No, I don’t mind,” Maggie said shyly, and she felt him squeeze her hand gently in response as he matched her stride and led her over to the next row of stalls. I don’t mind at all, she thought as her insides did a little flip at the feel of his warm thumb stroking the back of her hand.  

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

“So, tell me, did I choose well?” Justin asked as he watched Maggie admire the interior of the small Italian restaurant he'd chosen for them to eat at. At the sound of his voice, Maggie turned her attention back to him and smiled shyly. His head was cocked to the side, and he was grinning at her in that knowing way she was only starting to get used to. At first it'd unsettled her; the feeling that he could somehow see right through to her soul, but she was slowly warming to it. It was nice having someone show an interest in her and want to listen to what she had to say. She'd become used to taking merely a supporting role in other people's lives, and she had to keep reminding herself that it was okay to be the centre of attention, and that she should relax and enjoy it.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes dipping to the table where she reached out a hand to fiddle with the corner of her folded, white linen napkin. Even though she'd spent a bit of time with him, she still felt nervous and shy to be out on a date. “It's lovely here.”

Justin had chosen the restaurant because it was far away from the busy, bustling centre of the ski resort. After the expansion of what had once been just a small mountaintop village, the older part of the town had lost its appeal to the younger tourists, and had become the haunt of the older and more refined visitors to the area. When the noisier nightlife had relocated to be nearer to the hotels and lodges, where the majority of guests stayed, the outskirts of town had become quieter and more private.

It was the perfect place for a first date.

“So you've not been here before then?” Justin asked, hoping that his instincts were right and she hadn't. He'd tried so hard to plan the evening to be full of new experiences and surprises for Maggie, which so far he'd managed to achieve, and he didn't want to undo all his hard work at the last minute.

Maggie met Justin's eyes and hesitated. She felt like a hermit having to say no to almost every question he asked, but the truth was she'd spent very little time at the resort. Even though it was within an easy distance from Silverwood, she'd just never felt an inkling to venture out that way.

Silverwood had its merits, and it was an ideal place for someone settling into the Fall of their lives or even for a young couple seeking to raise a family in a safe area, but catered for teenagers and young adults it was not. This was likely the reason so many of the children who'd grown up in the area had left for college and never returned. Any yet the idea of mixing with what Maggie had always assumed were the snobby, high-class with too-much-money-and-free-time-on-their-hands tourists had never appealed to her. She realised now that she'd met Justin–who was none of those things–that perhaps the massive chip on her shoulder had done her more harm than good.

“Nope,” Maggie said cheerfully, flicking her eyes around the room once again. “I've not been here before.”

Justin leaned back into his chair and grinned at her. “Good.” He picked up two menus from the wooden holder in the centre of the table and passed one to Maggie over the top of the wax candle that was leaning slightly to the side in the glass candlestick in the centre of the table. Justin could tell that it'd been lit awhile as there were already thick globules of wax running down the sides and collecting at the base.

“So... Maggie,” he said, dragging out the sound of her name between his lips as he lowered his menu and fixed her with a penetrating blue stare. He wasn't trying to be intimidating, but that's exactly how Maggie felt–pinned to her chair by his gaze. Her hands started to shake, and she felt a slightly hysterical giggle begin to bubble away in her chest. She lowered her menu onto the wooden placemat in front of her and tucked her hands underneath the table. “...tell me something about yourself.”

Maggie reached for her glass of water and took a sip, delaying her answer for as long as was politely possible. Ever since Justin had shown an interest in her Maggie'd been waiting for this moment, but as much as she'd tried to prepare herself for the inevitability of it she still wasn't sure what to say. It always seemed like such a daunting task to try to sum up your whole personality and life story–without making it sound too long, boring or embarrassing–in the answer to one simple question.

“Well...” she began, but her voice cracked before she could get further. She reached for her glass and took a sip before trying again. “I was born here,” she said. “In Silverwood, I mean. I went to college after high school to study catering...” Her voice trailed off as she hesitated over what to say next. Fortunately, Justin jumped straight in. He was fully prepared with a list of questions in case her monologue dried up. Drawing people out of their shells came naturally to him.

“Where did you study?”

“At Valencia,” Maggie said before giggling a little at his reaction. The surprise that flashed across his face tickled at her funny bone. “I decided if I was going to leave Silverwood I might as well travel to the hottest, sunniest place I could find,” she explained with a grin.

“And you didn't wanna stay? In Florida, I mean.”

Maggie's cheeks coloured. “Yes,” she said, dipping her eyes and fiddling with the slightly scuffed corner of her plastic-wrapped menu. “I wanted to.” She looked up to meet Justin's eyes and for a second he detected a flash of darkness that hinted at something she wasn't saying. It was gone in a blink. “But it's not exactly easy to set up your own business in Florida. There's so much competition, and everything's so expensive. I thought it'd be better to return home for a while and get some experience before trying again.”

Maggie didn't want to state the truth; that once she'd settled back into everyday family life in Colorado she'd lost her momentum, and that those balmy, endlessly sunny days she'd spent in Florida had begun to feel like the memories of another lifetime. It would be all too easy to convince herself that she'd dreamt the whole thing. She wasn't sure Justin would understand those feelings. He didn't seem the type of person who would let anything get in the way of him achieving his dreams.

“It must've been difficult moving home after being away at college,” Justin said after a thoughtful pause. He didn't know, he'd never done the college thing, but he did have experience of moving back home after a life-changing event had run its course. He had the memory of standing in his old bedroom having been away for months, staring at his possessions and feeling disillusioned with almost everything around him. Settling back into everyday life had been a sharp learning curve for him and even now, years later, it still hurt to think about. He'd known at the time that something irrevocable had changed and he'd returned a different person to the boy who'd left home with stars in his eyes.

Maggie pulled a face. Yes, she thought glumly as she thought back to that fateful day when she'd boarded her final plane out of Florida. She'd known that she was unlikely to return any time soon and therefore had had to wave goodbye to the carefree, unburdened life she'd become accustomed to along with the sunshine.

Everything had been so different back then. She'd not been alone, for one. She hadn't been the only person peering out of the small airplane window, hoping for one last glimpse of the sea before the plane began to bank. How could she have known that moving back to Silverwood would result in her having to move back into her childhood home? At the time it'd seemed like she was starting the next phase of her life, not starting on the path that would lead back to an old one.

“...but I'm sure your family were glad to have you back,” Justin said, his words sounding more of a question than a statement. He knew he was blessed to have a close, loving family, and that not everyone was as fortunate as he. He wondered if Maggie's family wasn't quite as tight as he'd imagined. As often happened when he felt awkward, his mouth began to run away with him and he found himself mumbling to fill the silence. “I know how much my family moan when I'm away from home for too long,” he said. “My mom especially. Sometimes they act like I've been off to war or something. My granny always makes my favourite desert and presents it to me as though it's a birthday cake or something. Wouldn't be surprised if one day she lights a candle and gets me to blow it out.“

Maggie smiled weakly, silently telling herself to shake off the thoughts that had clouded what had so far been a delightful evening. She would not dwell on the past, she reminded herself firmly. Not when she'd come so far in closing the door on that part of her life. “They were happy when I got home,” she said, “but I didn't actually move home straight away.” She nervously fiddled with her menu once again. “I got a place just outside of town...” Her eyes flicked away at the framed landscape photograph on the wall beside them, then at the slowly melting candle on the table before settling on Justin's face. Justin leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, giving her his full attention whilst trying not to overwhelm her with the intensity of his interest. Like him she seemed to shy away from direct eye contact for a prolonged period.

“I lived there with a...” her voice broke off and the colour returned to her cheeks, “...someone.” Maggie cleared her throat loudly and lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as she avoided his eyes. She hated having to say the words out loud; hated having to think them. Years had passed and yet it still hurt having to face the consequences of her past decisions. “It was fun,” she said with a weak smile. “My mom never let my sister or I decorate our rooms at home so it felt so grown up choosing my own paint colours without anyone offering their opinion.” She chuckled and Justin joined in, the sound of his laughter increasing the width of Maggie's smile. He had such a contagious laugh. “We even got a dog,” Maggie added, “which was another thing my parents never allowed me to do when I was a child.”

“No dogs?” Justin said seeming genuinely surprised. His family had kept dogs for as long as he could remember, and even when he'd started travelling for work he'd found a way to keep his pets with him on the road. As impractical as it'd been at times, it'd been worth it for the company.

“You sound shocked,” Maggie said, giggling a little. Now that the discussion had passed the initial mention of him, her mood was brightening. “Do you have dogs?”

“Yeah,” Justin said, “loads. I can't imagine not having at least one.” They shared a smile and there was a slight pause before Justin encouraged her to continue her story with a raise of his eyebrow and a gesture of his hand. “So...”

“What happened next?” she asked.

Justin nodded and Maggie sucked in a breath before fiddling once again with her menu. It was a shame they hadn't yet been asked for their drinks orders, which she had to admit she found a little strange. She could've done with something a lot stronger to drink than water before continuing her story. “Well, that winter turned out to be one of the worst on record and we got a lot of snow,” she said meeting Justin's eyes and raising her eyebrows to emphasise her point. “A lot of snow. Like, one week's worth in a day. Anyway, everyone was taken by surprise and it was practically impossible to drive anywhere, so we–dog included–packed up as much stuff as we could carry and trudged through the snow to my parents' house. We thought it'd be safer to be all together whilst the weather was so bad.”

Justin nodded and smiled encouragingly.

“So... a week turned into two, two weeks turned into a month, and it was still difficult to travel far. I think in that time we got back to the house maybe once for a change of clothes and that was it. Hardly anyone could get to work so we were all cooped up in the house, my sister and brother in law, too. And to make things worse, she was pregnant with my nephew at the time so she was a complete nightmare to live with.” Maggie let out a huff under her breath, thinking about the diva-like tantrums her sister had thrown back then. “I guess it was probably obvious what would happen,” she said, chewing down on her bottom lip and flashing Justin a sideways smirk. She was playing it up, but it was still obviously painful for her to talk about. “After all, Florida natives are not going to naturally be prepared for Colorado winters, are they?”

The question was rhetorical, but Justin grimaced sympathetically. “So your... someone...” her said, using her turn of phrase, “they left?”

Maggie nodded and reached out to take another sip of her water. Her throat was dry from all the talking, and she couldn't ignore the hot ache that'd appeared in the back of her throat, warning her that tears were imminent. “Yes,” she said as she placed the glass carefully back onto the table with only the slightest tremor in her hand. “Packed up his... their...stuff and left without a goodbye. Although, as my sister so kindly pointed out, I probably should've expected it.” She attempted a carefree shrug but Justin wasn't convinced by it at all.

“He...” Maggie hesitated before rolling her eyes at the foolishness of trying to pretend that this someone wasn't a he, “...he hadn't really been happy even before we had to move in with my parents. We'd both just been ignoring it and pretending that it would go away, which I admit was stupid. I suppose it would always be easier for me–I was born here and am used to living in a small town–but it was so much harder for him. I should've known that moving here with me would be too much of an ask...”

“So what happened next?” Justin asked, his voice warm and soothing. His eyes, whilst sympathetic, held none of the pity Maggie was so used to seeing when she relayed her tale. A warm feeling began to spread through her veins, diluting the ache in her throat until it was barely noticeable anymore.

“Well, the snow melted,” she said. “Eventually. And by eventually I mean April. But, anyway, by then the thought of going home to an empty, cold house all by myself felt kind of sad. Not to mention my mom had grown so attached to my dog she wanted to keep her, so I would've literally been going home by myself. Anyway, we talked about it and my parents agreed I could wait out the spring at home and decide what to do in the summer. And, as I'm sure you've guessed, I've stayed ever since. It does make sense also, you know, with working at the bakery and everything...” Maggie's voice trailed off as her words hung in the air.

“Yeah...” Justin said, realising she was watching him carefully to see his reaction. The moments ticked past as he stared back at her expectant eyes, but his mind had gone completely and utterly blank. When things grew awkward he broke eye contact and turned his head to gauge the attention of a waiter. Now seemed like a very good time to order some food and drinks.

Maggie tried not to let Justin's response to her words affect her confidence. Deep down she realised she–wrongly–sought acceptance from others because she hadn't completely forgiven herself for taking the easy option out. She didn't know what it would take for that to happen but she knew that it wasn't fair to put that responsibility on someone else's shoulders.

As the waiter crossed the room towards their table, Maggie decided to change the subject. “So, Justin,” she said. “You haven't told me what it is you do for a living,” She picked up her menu and flicked through the pages to find the drink options. She hadn't even looked at the food choices yet but figured she'd be able to pick something standard off the menu without too much trouble. Choosing a drink, however, would take a little more time.

“I'm a musician,” Justin said as he, too, browsed his menu. His eyes flicked up to the waiter as she reached the table and he ordered his drink quickly before turning his attention back to Maggie. As both his and the waiter's eyes met hers, Maggie quickly chose a drink by running an index finger down the list of options until she found something she recognised–a glass of sweet white wine–before the waiter left them in peace to continue their conversation.

“A musician!” she repeated, slightly in awe. She'd never met a real musician before. At least not one who could call it their full-time job. “Wow, that's...” she didn't know what it was, so she just mumbled another impressed, “wow”.

Justin flashed her a crooked smirk. Even after all these years, he still wasn't used to people reacting to his job like that. Making music came as naturally to him as breathing, and his unyielding insecurity over his work kept him from believing the hype behind his name. It was a welcome change that Maggie seemed to have no idea who he was, and it was nice for him to know that she'd agreed to go on a date with him because she wanted to get to know him, not because she already knew all there was to know. For once he had a chance to be Justin before he had to be JT.

“I travel around performing with a group,” he explained. “Dancers, singers, musicians. We call ourselves JT and the Tennessee Kids.”

Maggie paused. His words sounded off a bell in her mind and she racked her brains for the reason. Why was that name familiar? “Tennessee,” she repeated remembering back to an earlier conversation they'd had. “So are you all from Tennessee?”

Justin cleared his throat before answering. “Nope,” he said lightly hoping that he'd soon be able to change the subject. He was happy to answer her questions, but he didn't want to spend the entire evening talking about himself, which was usually what happened when the subject of his work came up. “Just me. So you see anything you wanna order?”

Maggie lifted her menu and scanned the salad options as Justin's eyes studied her face. If she'd noticed that he'd changed the subject abruptly then she wasn't letting on. “Hmm... maybe,” she said, turning the page. “So have you got any brothers or sisters?”

Justin let out an inaudible sigh of relief and smiled. Like her he was glad when the awkward subjects had been raised and put aside. He was happier talking about his family life than he was his job, which was unusual for him; it was often the other way round.

“Two half brothers on my father's side,” he said, browsing his menu. So far he was torn between ordering the lasagna or the spaghetti. With the way his stomach was growling with hunger he contemplated ordering both. And a side salad to go with them. And some fries.

“I have one sister,” Maggie said. “Older, and a bit of a pain in the ass. But that's what family's all about, right?” She laughed good-naturedly not feeling the slightest bit bad about making a joke about her family. They'd had their share of laughs at her expense over the years.

“I know what you mean,” Justin said, chuckling along. “I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my family, but sometimes they drive me crazy. My mom's cool; she's pretty much encouraged me with whatever I wanted to do since the start, but my grandparents... I get the feeling they're hoping I'll move back to Tennessee soon and settle down, get an ordinary nine-to-five. I don't think they always get that I'm doing something I love and I want to keep doing. They see all the negatives and wonder why I put myself through it.”

“The negative sides? Like the travelling?”

“Yeah, that can be part of it,” Justin said. “Not being able to spend time with family and friends, too. Missing big family occasions, having to fit vacations around touring schedules... It can be pretty rough.”

“But like you said, you're doing something you love. That must help balance out some of the negatives.”

“Yeah,” Justin said with a slight shrug. “Sometimes. But you must be the same too, right? There must be times when working at the bakery drives you crazy.”

Maggie let out a loud snort of laughter before blushing at the sound. “Yeah,” she quipped dryly. “You could say that. Especially around Christmas time; it's chaos.”

“Would you rather do something else?” he asked.

Maggie scrunched up her face as she contemplated it. She knew she was lucky to have a job in the profession she'd trained in, but she couldn't say with one-hundred percent certainty that working for her parents was her dream job. But what would she do instead if she were to pursue a change? She'd never really considered any other options. “No,” she said, realising as she said them that her words were true. “I guess I wouldn't.”

“Just as well,” Justin said with a grin that sent the butterflies in Maggie's stomach into a flutter. “Because I've never seen anyone look so beautiful icing a dozen gingerbread men.” His eyes flashed at her and Maggie found herself caught in his gaze like a deer in the headlights. She found herself unable to look away even as her cheeks blushed furiously.

“I...er...”

“Not used to receiving compliments, Maggie Little?”

Maggie chuckled in embarrassment and dipped her head. “No,” she admitted.

“You'll get used to it,” he said, cocking his head to the side and flashing her that knowing look once again. “So, you ready to order?”

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

After being told for the third time to wake up and get her head out of the clouds, Maggie realised that she'd better pull herself together and focus before her dad pulled her aside and asked her some difficult questions.

So far she'd kept her date with Justin–in fact, every interaction she'd had with Justin–a secret, and that was the way she wanted it to stay. She knew the frenzy she'd create if she mentioned anything about a handsome stranger she'd met at the bakery, let alone having been on a date with one. For now Maggie was content to relive the memory over and over in her mind until she could barely focus on what she should be be doing–making brownies.

“Maggie, are you even listening?”

Maggie glanced up suddenly to find her father's head peering around the doorframe, one eyebrow raised in a question as he watched her with an amused expression on his face. She could tell that he'd been standing there awhile, no doubt waiting for an answer to a question she hadn't heard.

e’He

“Mags?” Greg asked again, entering the kitchen and peering at her more closely. “What's going on?”

Maggie could feel her cheeks blushing even though she was trying her best to keep her face composed. Greg Little was the quietest most thoughtful member of his family, which was why he was usually the first to know when something was wrong with either of his daughters. While his wife rushed in and asked a million questions to get to the bottom of things, Greg took a far gentler approach.

He crossed the room and stood before his daughter, fixing her with a kind yet firm stare. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Maggie said, a little too quickly and a little too shrill. She turned her back on her dad and resumed stirring the half-mixed brownie batter with a new fervour. Now she'd snapped out of her trance she realised how far behind on the orders she'd become, and she wondered why it'd taken her dad so long to call her up on it. She really needed to pull herself together.

“Mags, come on,” Greg said, reaching past his daughter's shoulder to place his hand on hers. Maggie stopped stirring at once and glanced sheepishly at him as he removed the spoon from her hand. “I know when something's up with you,” he said gently. “You know you can always come to me if something's bothering you.”

“Nothing's bothering me,” Maggie said. “Honestly, I'm fine. I just... didn't sleep that well last night.” Which is true, she thought. I'm not lying. I didn't sleep a wink.

“If you're struggling to keep up with the orders...” Greg said, his voice trailing off as he glanced around the kitchen, mentally totting up how far behind Maggie had fallen. Just like the day before they had a long list of orders to complete by the end of the day, and the front of the shop had maintained a steady stream of customers since opening time.

“I'm...” Maggie said before following her father's gaze and trailing off. She couldn't deny that she really wasn't being that helpful. The kitchen was a mess, and even though the oven had been lit for hours nothing had been cooking inside it for a while. The sink was piled high with unwashed pots and cooking utensils, and the floor was covered with a light powdering of flour and confectioners sugar.Much like Maggie was. It broke the first rule Maggie had learned on her first day at catering school–always keep your work area tidy.

“Dad, I'm really sorry...” she said, feeling bad for allowing herself to become so distracted. It really wasn't fair when they were all under such pressure. She was supposed to be a help not a hindrance.

“Mags, it's okay,” Greg said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You've had a lot on your plate lately. When you haven't been working here you've been taking care of Max and Austin. It's no wonder you're feeling the pressure.”

“But...”

“Maggie, there's no point you being here if you can't work. I suggest you take the afternoon off—“

“No!” Maggie objected, but Greg ignored her.

“I insist. Have the afternoon off and take some time for yourself. You'll feel better tomorrow, and we can catch up on the orders then.”

“But—“

“Maggie, I'm still the boss here. And as your boss I'm telling you I'm dismissing you for the day. Now off you go. No more arguments.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

It'd been months since Maggie'd had the afternoon off, and she couldn't ignore the slight thrill she felt as she gathered her coat and scarf, gave her father a brief wave and left the shop while the sun was still shining. However, unlike previous occasions when she hadn't known what to do with herself, this time she knew exactly what she wanted to do.

Maggie made the short walk across the street to the diner and settled into her usual seat before pulling her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. Justin had been adamant he should be the one to enter his private cell number into her phone as he hadn't wanted anything to prevent her from callling him. But he hadn't left it at that, either. They'd made plans for him to pick her up from the bakery after work–quite a while after work so he wouldn't bump into her dad–so that they could have dinner together again, but since Maggie'd finished work much earlier than expected, she saw no reason not to call Justin and update him on her change of plans.

Justin took ages to answer her call, which unsettled Maggie a little. She considered pressing the end call button several times before it connected, but she was too indecisive and he answered before she had the chance.

“Hello, Maggie Little,” he said, sounding very surprised to hear from her, and for the first time Maggie considered that he might feel as unsure of her as she was of him. It helped boost her confidence a little.

“Hey, look, I know we were gonna meet later, but...”

“Had a change of heart?” Justin asked, sounding distracted by something going on around him.

“No!” Maggie said, grasping the phone a little tighter in her hand. It surprised her the panic she felt at his suggestion that she wouldn't want to spend time with him. She hadn't realised till that moment how attached she'd already become to him. She didn't know where the spark between them would lead. but she certainly didn't want it to be over before it'd begun. “No, not at all. I just—“

“Can you hang on a sec, Maggie? It's kinda loud out here and I can't really hear you. Just give me a minute.”

Maggie chewed down on her bottom lip and waited as her heart pounded away in her chest. She shouldn't have called him, she told herself. He was obviously busy doing something else and wouldn't have time to hang out with her anyway. It was stupid to think that he'd just drop everything to spend time with her. He had better things to do. Of course he did, he was on vacation.

“'Kay, sorry about that. I can hear you better now.”

“No, it's fine,” Maggie mumbled, keeping her voice bright as she fought the urge to end the call. She should just cut her losses and make up some excuse for calling that didn't make her sound like an idiot, she thought. She could suggest meeting earlier? Or change the location of their dinner? Neither of those would raise his suspicions that she was eager to spend time with him when he clearly wasn't as eager to spend time with her. “I...”

“I'm glad you called,” Justin said, no longer sounding distracted. “I've been thinking about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, course. And I'm hoping the fact you've called suggests you've been thinking about me, too?”

“Yes,” Maggie admitted shyly. “I have. I did actually have a reason for calling...”

“Other than to save me from an endlessly boring shopping trip with my friends?” Justin teased. “Remind me to thank you for that later.”

“Oh,” Maggie said, sounding disappointed. So he was busy. “You're not having a good time?”

“I am now,” Justin said, and she heard him mutter something to someone in the background. Explain why you're calling, Maggie's brain screamed at her and she cleared her throat in preparation to speak.

“I've got the afternoon off work,” she said abruptly, cringing at the not-so-subtle implication in her words. She really hoped he wouldn't think that she was being clingy or needy by calling him and telling him this. “I was wondering—“

“Thank God,” Justin said and Maggie could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

“I...er...” Until that moment Maggie hadn't actually expected that Justin would want to–or be able to–drop everything to spend time with her, and now it'd happened she didn't really know what to say. She hadn't a plan she just knew she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could before... well, she wouldn't dwell on that. She knew he'd be leaving in a few days–he'd told her as much himself. He always spent Christmas at his grandparent's place in Tennessee, and the only reason he was in Colorado was to catch up with some old friends he hadn't seen for a while. He'd been touring a lot and it'd been difficult for him to make time for socialising.

“I'm shopping in the old town,” Justin said. “I can swing by and pick you up if you tell me where you are. I'm sure my friends won't mind me bailing.” Maggie heard the sound of muffled movement though the receiver and when Justin next spoke he was almost whispering. “Honestly, I'm so glad you've called. I've had enough shopping for one lifetime, and that's saying a lot coming from me.”

“Haven't found any sneakers you want to buy?” Maggie teased, remembering back to the night before when he'd told her all about his impressive collection. It was his main weakness, he'd said. He couldn't resist them even though he was at the point now where he was running out of space to keep them. Two houses and it still wasn't enough storage. Maggie had thrown her head back and laughed at him right there in the restaurant. He'd looked so shamefaced as though he'd been admitting to a horrible crime.

“No,” Justin said, chuckling good-naturedly. “Not yet anyway.”

“I'm in the diner opposite the bakery,” Maggie said as she glanced at the empty counter at the back of the diner. There were a few customers sitting in a group near to the doorway that lead to the kitchen, the round table between them cluttered with cups of steaming hot chocolate or coffee as they chatted quietly. An elderly man was hunched over his table behind Maggie, his attention fully consumed by the local paper he was reading; his cup of tea cooling unnoticed by his elbow. Maggie turned her head back around and glanced out the window once again. “It's pretty quiet here so you shouldn't have any trouble finding me.”

“Okay, great. I'll see you in a bit then. Hey, do me a favour and order me a drink, will you? I'm freezing.”

“Okay,” Maggie giggled. “See you soon.”

~~~~~*~~~~~~

“I swear I don't know how you handle this cold,” Justin said as he slumped down into the chair opposite Maggie and untangled his scarf from around his face and neck. Maggie'd not been consciously looking out for him, but her stomach had done a little flip when a familiar car had passed by the window making careful progress along the snowy street.

She'd dipped her eyes and pretended to be occupied with something interesting on her cell-phone when he'd entered the diner, but she'd been all too aware of his presence to be fully focused on anything but him. She still couldn't quite believe this handsome stranger had wandered into her life without warning, or that out of all people he wanted to spend time with her.

“I'm used to it, I guess,” Maggie said, offering him a smile and a casual shrug.

As Justin removed the many layers he'd put on to protect him from the elements, Maggie didn't know where to look. Or rather, she knew where she shouldn't be looking but she couldn't seem to avert her eyes from his face. Or his body. Feeling that at any moment she might be caught staring, Maggie lifted her steaming cup of coffee to her lips to hide her uncontrollable smile. She felt like a little girl with a crush, which, let's face it, wasn't that far from the truth.

“So you've got the afternoon off work?” Justin said as he heaved a sigh and reached for the cup of coffee Maggie'd ordered for him–a foamy latte with one sachet of brown sugar mixed in. It'd felt surreal ordering a drink for him, especially when the waitress had asked if she wanted sugar and she'd known the answer was yes. She felt giddy knowing how Justin liked his coffee, and that this occasion might be the first of many. “Thanks for this, by the way,” he said, tilting the cup in her direction before taking a sip. His eyes closed as he swallowed the hot liquid and it began to warm him from the inside. He smacked his lips and lowered the cup so he could smile at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

Maggie didn't realise she was holding her breath until she tried to speak. “I guess I was a little... distracted,” she said, meeting his eyes and giggling. Her mouth pulled up into an apologetic smirk. “I feel bad now, of course.” And it was true, she did. But after years of dedicated, honest work with no complaint she realised she shouldn't feel that bad. In the grand scheme of things she was probably well due an afternoon off.

“Whoops, didn't mean to get you in trouble at work,” Justin said, taking another sip of his drink and noticing for the first time that Maggie had asked the waitress to make a 'J' shape in cocoa powder on the top of the foam. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, an amused smirk lifting his features. He clearly found her attention to detail amusing. You can take the girl out of the bakery...

“Who said it had anything to do with you?” Maggie teased, chuckling as his eyebrows rose and his smirk grew until it was almost symmetrical.

“Wow,” he remarked, “feisty Maggie Little.”

“Why do you do that?” Maggie asked, tilting her head to the side to regard him carefully. She wasn't annoyed, rather intrigued that he seemed to like the sound of her name so much. He was the only one, Maggie thought glumly; other than her mother, who'd had the pleasure of naming her. She'd been named for her maternal grandmother, and Maggie had always resented her older sister for having been given an original, interesting name. However, Gem hadn't had all the luck–she'd had to get through high school with the nickname 'lettuce' haunting her every move.

“Do what?” Justin asked, placing his cup on the table and folding his arms across his chest before resting his elbows on the table. He leaned towards her and smiled encouragingly.

“Call me Maggie Little,” she said. “You never seem to just call me Maggie, it's always Maggie Little.”

“That's your name, isn't it?” Justin said, his eyes sparkling at her. “You call me Justin and I don't object.”

“Yes. But I don't call you Justin Timberlake all the time,” Maggie reasoned.

“You could,” Justin said, sheepishly glancing around in case anyone had reacted to his name being said aloud. Fortunately, no one had. “You can call me what you like.”

“Anything?” Maggie said, smirking.

“Okay, maybe not anything.”

“You said anything,” she teased.

“What do your friends call you?” Justin asked, leaning forward and smiling fondly at her. He'd find it hard not to think of her as his Maggie Little, but he'd do whatever it took to make her happy. It was worth it just to see her glorious smile once again. And it was true, he would pretty much answer to anything she wanted to call him. But he wasn't going to let her know that just yet. He didn't want to show his cards too early, although deep down he suspected it was already too late for that. The fact he'd dropped his friends without a moment's thought suggested that his cards were well and truly plastered to his forehead for all to see.

It was because things were different with Maggie. They were easy. He wasn't playing a game, and it seemed she wasn't either. For once in his life he realised he had the chance to have a normal, adult relationship without having to worry about any concealed motives. Maggie Little, he realised, was the real deal.

“They call me Maggie,” she said, “or Mags, which I actually hate. Dusty, Sugar...”

“Dusty?” Justin asked, surprised. It wasn't what he'd been expecting. Sugar, yes. In fact, he'd been prepared to suggest that one himself.

“Yes,” Maggie said, blushing slightly. “I guess it's cause I'm always covered in flour.” She shrugged bashfully and offered him a small grin. “It fits, I guess.”

“I'm not gonna call you that,” Justin said, reaching for his cup and taking another sip. His eyes travelled to the window, and he stared out at the icy, grey road for a few moments as he contemplated.

He'd never normally dwell on this. He'd have chosen a standard nickname–one of his trusty regulars–and would've left it at that. But that wouldn't do for Maggie. She wasn't a Daisy or a Lily, a Pearl or a Belle. He didn't want to call her something everyone else did. He wanted to be different.

It came to him in a flash, and Justin almost laughed aloud at the realisation that it was absolutely perfect for her. It was so perfect he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before.

“I've got it,” he said confidently, turning back around to face her. Maggie stared at him patiently, one eyebrow raised as she waited.

“Well?” she said eventually when his smug silence had become too much for her.

“Ginger!”

“Ginger?” Maggie repeated, not sounding quite as confident as Justin had. It was different–that was for sure. And she certainly hadn't been called it before. But was she really a Ginger? There were certain connotations the name implied that she wasn't sure she could live up to. Did she have a feisty temperament? No, not really. Was she bold and confident? No, not at all. Was she warm and comforting? Well... maybe a little. Was she really a Ginger? “Are you sure? I'm not quite...”

“It's perfect,” Justin said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. It was the first contact he'd made since he'd entered the diner, and Maggie found herself smiling down at their conjoined hands as she mulled the idea over in her mind. She opened her palm and allowed Justin to spread his fingers through hers, just as he'd done the night before when they'd walked from the restaurant through the icy blue snow to Justin's car.

It'd felt so natural to Maggie. So much so that her hand had felt bereft when they'd finally had to break contact, and she'd been missing the feel of his touch ever since. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and she instinctively leaned forward, craving the need to be closer to him. Sitting across the table felt too far away.

“So whaddya say, Ginger?” Justin asked as he squeezed her hand, his eyes warm but gently teasing. The crooked smile put a dimple in his cheek, and Maggie felt the giddy feeling return to her stomach. It really wasn't fair that he could turn her to jelly with just a smile. Especially as she had no confidence in her ability to do the same.

“What do I get to call you in return?” she asked, not willing to give in one-hundred percent to her hormones just yet. She was in a public place after all, and although the diner was practically empty, if she wanted to keep Justin a secret from her family she'd better not push her luck. There were several nosey residents of Silverwood–mostly her mother's friends–who'd be happy to snitch on her if she was caught smooching in the town diner.

Justin snorted a laugh but Maggie kept her face poker-straight. She was serious, or at least she was pretending to be. Tit for tat, or something like that... If he was going to insist on calling her Ginger, which now she'd thought about it she really didn't mind, she'd have to have something in return. It was only fair.

“Call me J,” Justin said, taking another sip of his drink and peering at her over the rim of the cup. It was another thing he normally didn't do. Only his closest friends and family were ever given the opportunity to call him that, and he simply ignored anyone else who tried. There had to be some boundaries between him and the fans, and for him it didn't come any more personal than his name. Maggie didn't know it yet, but she'd been offered a rare opportunity.

“J,” Maggie repeated, meeting his eyes and smiling. She liked it. A lot.

Maggie gave Justin's hand a squeeze, and flashed him the shy smile he'd begun to fear he was starting to see the end of. Her blushes and bashful smile were two of the things that'd first caught his eye, and he felt strangely sad to think that as she lost her inhibitions around him he would have to say goodbye to two of her most charming features.

“So, J...” Maggie said, finishing the last of her coffee, which was little more than lukewarm now. She'd been so wrapped up in the conversation she'd forgotten all about it.

“Yes, Ginger?” Justin replied, flashing her a kilowatt smile and raising a challenging eyebrow. If she didn't object to her new nickname now then it'd be set for life. And to Maggie's surprise, she didn't.

“Where are you planning on taking me this afternoon?”

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

Justin took Maggie ice skating, much to her dismay.

She had no confidence in her ability to stay upright on the ice, but Justin wouldn't be dissuaded. Unbeknownst to her, he had ulterior motives; he couldn't think of a better activity that would keep her in close proximity to him and allow him to be more hands on than their previous dates had allowed. Plus, it didn't hurt that he was a pretty good skater, either.

Although she was filled with nerves the moment the word 'ice' was mentioned, Maggie found that once she was laced up tight in a pair of skates and Justin was leading her confidently towards the rink she felt equally as excited as she was apprehensive. It was strange how things she'd normally avoid doing took on a different light when Justin was involved. Plus, as dusk descended and the fairy lights that'd been trailed along the rails off the rink illuminated giving out a warm glow, Maggie had to admit that it was pretty romantic. Also deserted. They were the only people in the vicinity of the rink, which helped ease Maggie's nerves a little. At least only Justin would be witness to her humiliation.

“Come on, Ginger. You can't tell me you haven't done this before?” Justin chuckled as he took in the worried look on Maggie's face and gave her gloved hand a comforting squeeze. She was bundled up in a heavy coat and scarf and gloves, but enough of her face was showing for him to see how nervous she really was. Still he firmly believed that stepping out of your comfort zone was good for you once in a while, and he hoped she'd be proud of herself afterwards for having faced her fears.

“Not in a very long time,” Maggie said, her voice as wobbly as her feet. She clutched tighter to his hand and Justin chuckled again, reaching out his spare arm to steady her and help her walk. Maggie flicked up her eyes to meet his and giggled. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yes,” Justin said, his grin widening. “Definitely.” He took a step backwards onto the ice like an expert and released his grip on her arms so he could take her hands instead. With a confident grin he pulled her forward gently and before Maggie knew it she was standing upright on the ice. “See?” Justin said, “not so bad, right?”

Maggie couldn't speak. She was too busy trying to keep as still as possible so she wouldn't humiliate herself right there and then in front of him. She stared down at her feet–her almost unrecognisable feet. Who'd have thought they'd be squeezed into a pair of skates again?– and tried not to freak out. It seemed inevitable to her that she'd end up on her bum before too long. She only hoped that when it happened she'd have the good graces to laugh it off.

“You okay?” Justin asked, realising that she'd been a little too quiet for a little too long. Perhaps he should've heeded her warning that she hadn't done this in a long time, he thought. There may well have been a very good reason for that.

“Sorry,” Maggie said, flicking her eyes up to meet his before dropping them back down to her feet again. She edged forward but quickly regretted it when one foot went right and the other left. Maggie's eyes widened and she bent her knees, but sadly to no avail. Her feet continued to slide apart and she gripped tighter to Justin's hands. This is it, she thought. This is the moment I make a complete fool of myself.

Sensing her panic, Justin released her hands and quickly gripped her around the wrists, pulling her upright and reminding her to point her toes together. Maggie obeyed, and when Justin took a step back and pulled her along with him she gained height and straightened up.

“You're hating this, aren't you?” Justin teased as he continued to skate backwards pulling Maggie along with him. Skating sure was a lot easier when someone else was in charge of direction and keeping her balance, Maggie thought as she watched the ice pass beneath their feet. Despite her apprehensions, she managed to crack a small smile.

Maggie didn't want to sound as though she were complaining, and there were certainly benefits to the damsel in distress routine, but she couldn't exactly say she was enjoying herself... yet. “Don't let go,” she whimpered as she felt Justin loosen his grip. She squeezed tighter to his hands and looked at him with wide eyes. He was grinning, clearly enjoying himself.

“You can do this, Ging,” Justin said, stretching his arms as far as he could so she was almost skating by herself.

Almost. But not quite.

“No,” Maggie said, “I really can't.” She noticed Justin's expression and narrowed her eyes playfully. “You're enjoying this, aren't you. Don't think I don't know what's going on here.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Justin replied, the crooked smirk returning to his face as he slowly pried his fingers from hers. “I'm helping you to overcome your fears.”

“Stop!” Maggie squeaked, grasping for his hands like a mad woman. “Please, don't let go. Seriously, I'll land on my face!”

“It's easy once you get started,” Justin said. “You've just gotta take a deep breath—“

“Don't tell me what I'm supposed to be doing,” Maggie said in a panic, leaning forwards when she felt herself begin to lose her balance. She forgot all of Justin's advice to keep her knees bent and her toes pointing inwards and her ankles began to tremble as she wobbled on the blades. She gulped and prepared herself for what she hoped wouldn't be too painful a fall. “Please, don't let me fall,” she said as much to the universe as to Justin, however he quickly heeded her words and reached for her as the wobble spread from her ankles to her knees.

“I've got you,” Justin said, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her back, pinning her tightly to his chest so she could regain her balance. Maggie blushed as she met his eyes and a shy smile crossed her lips. Whereas she couldn't seem to fight back a smile, Justin looked utterly serious, his blue eyes wide and searching. “I won't let you fall,” he said in a voice barely more than a whisper. He reached out and brushed a warm hand down Maggie's cheek, sending her nerve endings into a frenzy.

“Promise?” she whispered back as his face edged closer to hers.

Justin paused and broke a smile. “Promise,” he said before pulling her close for the sweetest kiss Maggie'd received in her whole life.

~~~~~*~~~~~

From that moment on, Maggie was hooked. Officially.

By the time Justin had finished her skating lesson, which had involved a lot more kissing, giggling, hand holding and cuddling than actual skating, Maggie was not only freezing cold and shivering, but she was also completely and utterly giddy with happiness.

It was an unfamiliar feeling to her, and the revelation shocked her. It wasn't that she was particularly unhappy or dissatisfied with her life; she had a lot to be thankful for and many blessings for which she was grateful, but if she was completely honest with herself she'd admit that she'd been coasting through life. Or at least that's how it'd felt.

Until now. Now she felt as though she were having the most wonderful dream. Only this dream was as real as it was wonderful; as was the man sitting opposite her staring into her eyes and smirking when she blushed.

“So, how's it feel to have overcome your fears?” Justin teased as Maggie forked a slice of cucumber from her salad plate into her mouth. The food was sublime, as was the view of the inky blue mountains from their table, just as Justin had promised her it would be. It hadn't been easy to get reservations so close to Christmas he'd said, but he'd pulled some strings, and now they were seated at the restaurant's premier table drinking champagne and choosing food off the menu Maggie would never have dreamed of eating–like avocado and prawn salad with crushed walnuts.

“I think overcome is a bit too strong a word,” she giggled. “More like was pushed into and just about survived.”

“Nah,” said Justin with a dismissive wave of his hand, his fork sending a splattering of cranberry jelly onto the pristine white tablecloth near his wine glass. He grimaced and rubbed at it with the heel of his hand but only succeeded in working the stain further into the fabric's fibres. Justin flashed Maggie a sheepish grin which made her giggle, and she moved the decorative vase of flowers from the centre of the table to cover the stain making them both laugh out loud. “You were incredible,” he said after a short pause.

Maggie snorted a laugh. “You may be a little biased,” she said narrowing her eyes playfully at him.

“I think I might,” Justin agreed flashing her a wink before stuffing another mouthful of breaded oven-baked Camembert and cranberry jelly into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and beamed at her. “So what's next?”

“Next?” Maggie asked feeling a little hot under the collar. “You mean after the date?”

“I mean next on the list of fears to smash. We're clearly on a roll here, we should keep going.”

“Why are we only focusing on me?” Maggie asked with a giggle. “Surely you have some of your own we could work on? What's your biggest fear?”

“Nuh-uh,” Justin said, dropping his eyes to his almost empty plate and shaking his head. He nudged a stray piece of lettuce around with the tines of his fork and avoided meeting her gaze. Clearly he wasn't comfortable talking about his insecurities, or at least he wasn't with her which Maggie could understand. She didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable so she let the subject drop. There'd be other occasions, she told herself.

“This was delicious,” she said as she placed her knife and fork together in the centre of her plate as her mother had trained her to do since she was little. It was the polite thing to do, or so she'd been told a million times before.

“I know,” Justin said, agreeing with her. “I swear if I didn't have to be on stage all the time for work I'd just eat until I was humongous. I don't understand people who go on these faddy diets to lose weight; I love food too much to not be able to enjoy it.”

“Amen!” Maggie agreed, holding up her glass of white wine so Justin could chink his delmonico glass full if Jack Daniel's and coke against it. They chuckled at each other and took sips of their drinks simultaneously sending Maggie into another fit of giggles.

“'Sup, Ginger?” Justin asked with a raised eyebrow as Maggie struggled to catch her breath. His eyes sparkled at her as he watched her in amusement. Maybe it was the wine, or the food, or all the kisses... either way she was giddy. Probably too giddy to be out in public, Maggie reasoned.

“I dunno,” she said. “Must be the wine or something.”

“Or something,” Justin said, winking at her again. He loved watching her laugh. He loved the way her nose crinkled and she squeezed her eyes shut. He loved the way she lifted her hand to her mouth and dipped her head, looking at him through her lashes. And he especially loved the way there was nothing calculated about any of her actions. She wasn't trying to snare him with batted eyelashes and pouted lips. She was being herself, and to him that was the most attractive thing of all. Also the most endearing. He felt no need to have his defences raised or be on his guard around her. If anything he felt it would be all too easy for him to fall for her, which was his only concern. Above anything else, he didn't want to hurt her.

“Or something,” Maggie repeated, bobbing her head up and down as she tried to compose her face. It cracked a few times before she managed to get a grip on herself and sober up enough so she could speak. “So, Justin...” she began causing Justin to raise his eyebrows at the mock serious tone that appeared in her voice. It was at contrast to the half-smirk on her face. “Are you really leaving in a few days time?”

Justin's eyebrows shot higher up his brow and he let out an astonished snort of laughter. Maggie sure had a way of taking him by surprise. She'd taken herself a bit by surprise, too. She'd had no intention of mentioning his inevitable departure until he brought it up first, but obviously her subconscious had beaten her to it. Maggie felt her cheeks flame as she met his eyes and hoped she didn't sound as needy as she thought she did. Or as disappointed.

“Yeah...” Justin said, clearing his throat awkwardly. He'd been expecting the subject to come up at some point, especially after he'd taken the leap to kiss her that afternoon, but he hadn't been expecting it to be so soon, and especially not at dinner. But then again, if not then, when? Time was already slipping away from them, and as much as Justin didn't want to think about it, he knew that at some point the subject would have to come up.

“Yes, Maggie,” he said, leaning forward and reaching for her spare hand which was resting on the table beside her now empty plate. Maggie gave him a slightly wary smile and stared into his eyes, her own clouded with confusion and something else... something Justin couldn't quite decipher. Trepidation? Regret? The smile dropped from his face and he looked at her earnestly. “Let's not ruin the time we have together worrying about a few days time, okay?”

Maggie looked glum. So he was leaving soon.

“Okay, Ginger? Let's just enjoy getting to know each other and see where things go from there, yeah?”

Maggie couldn't promise. She couldn't promise she wouldn't think or worry about it. That she wouldn't wonder if they were making a mistake opening up to each other when they were about to be separated. Would it be better to call it a day right then and there before anyone got their feelings hurt? Before she got too attached and he became too protective? Could she do it?

Her eyes scanned his earnest face and his deep gunmetal blue eyes that despite having the potential were never cold. No, she realised, she couldn't. No matter where the train was headed she was fully committed to the ride. The destination might not be the one of her dreams, but hadn't she been told throughout her life it wasn't the destination that mattered but the journey? Maggie certainly hoped so.

“Okay,” she said a little more confidently, picking up her glass to raise a toast. “To seeing where things go.”

Justin grinned and clinked his glass once again against hers. “To seeing where they go.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

While things were taking a turn for the better for Maggie, Gem was finding the opposite.

She'd been working every shift the hotel had offered her, but still money was tight. With the pressures of having to buy presents for both her children and the extended family, she was almost sick of the festive season before it'd even begun.

It didn't help that both Max and Austin were insisting that only the most popular, expensive toys would make them happy. Gem knew they were being ridiculous and she shouldn't give in on principle– she hadn't been raised to expect to get everything she asked for, and she certainly didn't want her sons to either–but it wasn't easy. She felt guilty that she had such little time to spend with them and that when she did she was usually tired and in a bad mood.

Scotty didn't help things much, either. As a couple, they'd never been able to discuss money without getting into an argument, even with the marriage guidance course the pastor who'd married them had insisted they take. They'd learned all about their roles in marriage, how to handle decision making as a couple, even how to deal with anger, but no matter how intently she'd listened to the pastor's advice and made mental notes to follow his guidance, in the end it hadn't made a shred of difference.

It was getting worse, too.

Anytime she came home with any carrier bags, whether they were from the weekly food shop, or even a new lipstick or nail polish to treat herself at pay day, he'd come ambling over with that look on his face that Gem knew meant he was about to work out to the nearest dollar how much she'd spent and give her grief for it. As though groceries were some kind of frivolous expenditure or something. Like the time she'd treated Austin to a new game for his Nintendo DS–his second-hand Nintendo DS–and he'd directly asked her where the money had come from; his account, or hers. Gem had wanted to rip his head off. It'd come from her account, of course, like everything else seemed to.

“Max came home with a note from Kindergarten today,” Gem said as she lifted the last of the clean dinner plates from the draining rack and dried it with a nearby dish towel. “It says he needs ten dollars for a secret santa they're doing.” She deliberately kept her back turned to Scotty so she couldn't see the inevitable look of frustration that was no doubt crossing his face. Gem had seen it too many times in the last few weeks, and she knew the next time would be one too many. She was primed to crack.

“Ten dollars?” Scotty said, the grumble evident in his voice. “What do they need ten dollars for this close to Christmas?”

Gem sucked in a breath, but it did little to ease her irritation. “Like I said,” she snapped, “secret santa.”

“So each kid is getting ten dollars, or what?”

“No,” Gem said, tightly squeezing the dish towel in between her hands. She was really too tired to have to deal with this, and she felt it could be the catalyst for yet another of their big barneys. The tension was crackling in the air along with a hundred words unsaid. “The kids each bring in ten dollars, and the teachers use the money to purchase the gifts. That way the parents who already have enough to do don't have to rush out and buy yet another gift this close to Christmas and then have it wrapped before the term ends.”

“Sounds like they'd be better off scrapping the whole thing,” Scotty said as he chugged down the last of his beer. It was funny; when they'd discussed how they could cut back on unnecessary expenditure he'd been adamant that his nightly beer habit should continue. It was his one luxury, he'd insisted. Although Gem had thought that the cable TV and sports truck were his only luxuries. But, sure, by all means change the premium brand sports drinks for the kids to basic, or remove the cereal bars from their lunch packs, Gem had thought resentfully. As long as Scotty had his beers, what else mattered?

“Nice Christmas spirit,” Gem muttered under her breath as she put away the pile of plates and shut the cupboard door with the briefest slam. It was subtle, but her irritated spouse noticed.

“I ain't got ten dollars free for some kid,” Scotty said as he got up and tossed his empty beer bottle into the trash. He stood at the counter watching Gem's back, awaiting the inevitable. She wanted an argument? Fine. Better they get on with it and clear the air, he thought. He couldn't keep walking on eggshells around her, it was making their home life miserable for everyone.

“It's not for some kid,” Gem corrected. “It's for your son. You gonna be the one to tell him he can't join in with the rest of the class?”

“Life's tough,” Scotty said. “Easier for him to learn that now than later. Worlds not gonna end if he doesn't get a lame present from his teacher. Not like he doesn't have enough toys as it is.”

“It won't be a lame present,” Gem snapped. “Ten dollars—“

“Precisely,” Scotty interrupted. “Ten dollars that can better be spent elsewhere; you know that as well as I do. You can make me out to be the bad guy all you like but you know I'm right.”

“So I guess it'll be coming out of my money then, will it?”

“That's up to you,” Scotty said with a shrug. “If you think it's important. You can do what you like with your money.”

“Funny. I thought my money was used to pay our bills...” Gem said as she turned around to face him. She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. She'd been waiting to say that for months... years, in fact. Gem knew exactly when she'd put that unsaid accusation away deep in her heart; it'd been the day she'd returned to work three months after Max had been born. She'd promised Scotty she'd do anything, no matter what, if he agreed to have a second child, but she hadn't really expected him to hold her to it. “Am I right?”

Scotty answered her with a growl and not much else.

“Five years I've spent slaving at that hotel so you can set up your own business and what happened? You got bored and tried night school. So I continue working my ass off to get you through that, and what happens? You got bored and changed courses halfway through. And then? You decided it wasn't what you wanted after all and you quit to set up your own garage with no formal training. When's it gonna end, Scotty?”

“So our problems are all my fault, are they?” Scott snapped back, his temper flaring. “Funny, I remember five years ago when we had plenty of money and time to do what we wanted, plus a house we could afford, and what happened? Someone decided they wanted another baby.”

“Keep your voice down!” Gem hissed, rushing across the room to shut the kitchen door before her sons overheard their conversation. Max had long been bathed, read a bedtime story and put in bed, but Austin was only upstairs watching TV. She doubted he'd say anything if he did overhear them, but Austin was a tricky kid. You never quite knew how he'd react in a situation, and though he acted as though his ears were clogged up with cotton wool most of the time, Gem knew he paid far more attention to things than he let on.

“You knew I was against the idea, but you had to have your own way. God forbid Miss Gem Little doesn't get what she wants the minute she wants it.”

“For God's sake,” Gem snapped, her cheeks turning an angry red. She was furious that he'd dare bring up the subject of her broodiness. Nor did she want to admit that he was... a little bit, right. She had bullied him into having another child. But she'd been young and carefree back then; of course she'd wanted more children. And they'd been more than comfortable financially. How could she have foreseen the economic situation they'd all be affected by? Besides, Scotty had fallen in love with Max the moment he'd held him in his arms just moments after he'd been born. The little boy had completed their family, and mended their broken hearts after Scotty's older sister, Kimber, had died tragically in a car accident.

“Would you rather we just had the one child then?” Gem asked, barely recognising the words as they came out of her mouth. It was a ridiculous question to ask, but she had to ask it. She knew it wouldn't help either of them to say the words out loud, but things had gone too far to back down now. The bitterness already present in her heart spread roots and grew.

“Now you're just being ridiculous,” Scotty said with a sneer and a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Well? Come on, you started this conversation. Tell me. Would you rather have just the one child?”

“Things would be easier, yeah,” Scotty said as he let out an exasperated sigh. Gem balked and Scotty rolled his eyes at her reaction. “I'm not saying I don't love Max,” he said. “But things would've been easier with just one kid. Austin's a teenager, he's practically grown up–“

“He's eleven,” Gem bit back and Scotty met her eyes and frowned, her tone silencing him. “Austin is eleven,” she said, “and as far as him being nearly grown up, you have no idea what I've been dealing with lately with–“

“Oh here we go,” Scotty said with a bitter laugh. “Here it comes. Austin is just like me and Max–your perfect little man–has the sun shining out of–“

“Oh, shut up!” Gem shouted. “I love that boy more than anything, but you're not the one who gets calls from the school updating you on what he's been up to. You say he's got personality? I got a phone call from a parent the other day who said he made a little girl cry!”

“Girls his age are always crying,” Scotty objected with a dismissive grunt.

“It wasn't a girl his age,” Gem said. “It was one of the little girls from Max's kindergarten class. He threw something at her and it cut her cheek. Teacher said it was lucky it wasn't closer to her eye.”

Scotty sobered a little, but his face remained cold.

“Do you know what he said when the little girl's dad pulled him aside and made him explain himself?” Scotty glanced over and met her eyes, his curiosity overcoming his anger. When Gem knew she had his full attention, she continued, “he said he didn't mean to hit the girl. He said he'd been aiming for Max. Nice to know your sons are growing up to be great additions to society, isn't it?”

“Which is all my fault?”

“It's not mine!” Gem snapped. “When am I ever around to teach them anything? Those boys spend more time with members of my family than they do with me!”

“They're family, they're supposed to help out.”

“They're not there to raise our children! You think my parents thought they'd be raising grandkids after they'd finished with me and Mags? As if they don't have enough to do with the bakery business...”

“You didn't mind getting your sister to watch Max the other night at dinner. She didn't look too bothered,” Scotty said, quickly growing bored with the conversation. He was tired and irritable and every word that came out of Gem's mouth sounded like an accusation. He was sick of always having to justify his actions to her.

“She looked totally bothered,” Gem replied. “And who can blame her? She has her own life...”

Scotty snorted a laugh which irked Gem further. “Your sister? Her own life? There's a spinster in the making...”

“Oh shut the f**k up,” Gem snapped, angrily throwing the dish cloth she was still holding into the sink. “I'm done talking to you tonight. You better sleep on the sofa, or so help me I'm taking me and the boys to my moms.”

“Oh yeah?” Scott grunted, narrowing his eyes at her. “You gonna drive in the pitch black through the snow to your moms? That'll be a first.”

For Gem, that was the last straw. She narrowed her eyes until they were almost slits and practically spat her words at him, “You know what, Scott? You'd better think about what's important to you. I can't keep living like this. This isn't living. Something has to change or I swear to God this will be our last Christmas as a family.”

She broke eye contact and burst out of the room only seconds before the angry tears started to fall. What little Christmas spirit she'd had before was most certainly gone for good.

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

“Hi daddy, is Maggie around?” Gem asked, bursting into the bakery the next morning bright and early. Greg Little glanced up from where he was filling the chilled counter with the morning's freshly made pastries and raised a questioning eyebrow as his mouth pulled up into a crooked smirk.

“Why, if it isn't my oldest daughter,” he quipped, “come to spend some quality time with your father?” Gem rolled her eyes and chuckled under her breath as she continued her way towards the kitchen. She was in a hurry and couldn't afford to make herself late for work. She just needed a quick word with her sister before she hot-footed it back across town.

“I'm looking for Mags, is she around?” she said.

“Out back,” Greg replied as he straightened and ran his hands down the front of his batter-smeared apron. He didn't spent much time in the kitchen during opening hours, but he was the first to arrive in the mornings and always got started on the days orders before Maggie arrived at around eight. It gave him just enough time to get suitably covered in flour and eggs to make the customers feel assured he was still in charge of the business. He didn't want them thinking Maggie did all the work, even if that was starting to be the case.

Gem nodded once and continued on towards the kitchen, the heels of her black ankle boots making a tapping sound on the floor. It was a familiar, comforting sound – it reminded Greg of his mother's shoes when he was a child. She'd always worn smart, black shoes, even at home when no one would have thought twice about her walking around barefoot or in socks. Even now, the smell of shoe polish reminded him of Sunday mornings when his mother would line up the family's shoes and sit on the bottom step of the stairs polishing them until they shone.

Tap, tap, tap. It was the sound of the women in his family.

“Gem,” Greg said, clearing his throat gruffly. Gem turned her head and raised an eyebrow, her expression saying exactly what she couldn't say out loud. What? “Remember what we talked about the other night...”

Gem just about managed not to roll her eyes, although it was a challenge. “I haven't forgotten,” she said, a little tartly. “I'm kinda in a hurry here, daddy...”

“Go ahead,” Greg said, eyeing her suspiciously even as he gestured with his hand at the door to the kitchen. He was no fool, he knew most of the time Gem told him exactly what he wanted to hear and then did what she wanted to anyway. But this time... this time he was determined not to fall for the same old line. “But don't keep your sister too long. We've got orders coming out of our ears, and we're hoping to close early today.”

Perfect, Gem thought with a smile. Just what she needed.

The kitchen looked deserted when Gem entered it, but it was only because Maggie was half hidden by the huge refrigerator door as she looked for the jug of whipping cream that was hidden in the back somewhere. She was in the middle of preparing a batch of choux buns that needed their filling piped in before she dipped them in a rich chocolate glaze. To say she was preoccupied was an understatement.

“Sis?” Gem called before spotting her sister's back peeping around the fridge door. Maggie didn't answer but continued rifling through the fridge's shelves in her hunt for the cream. There was so much crammed into the tight space that she could barely keep track of what everything was. She'd told her dad a million times they needed to trade the old thing in for one of the larger, more modern refrigerators, but each time he just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He was as attached to that fridge as he was the sign above the store front which his father had hand painted.

“Daaad!” Maggie called, unknowingly ignoring her sister in the process. Her head was so consumed with all she had to do that morning she hadn't even noticed her sister's arrival. For the first time in a while she'd managed to convince her father to close early for the day, and she was determined that nothing was going to stop them from doing that. She had plans with Justin, and she could hardly wait till closing time. “Did you use my cream this morning? I can't find it.”

“Mags?” Gem said.

“No,” Greg called back from the front of shop. “I haven't seen any cream.”

“I need it for my choux buns,” Maggie said.

“Maggie.”

“Dammit,” Maggie swore, hunching down to look right at the back of the bottom shelf. If she couldn't find the cream the buns would be wasted. She didn't have time to head to the store to buy more, and even if she did it wouldn't be at the right temperature for piping straight away. It was an irritating setback.

“Maggie!” Gem snapped, her cheeks flushing a frustrated red. She didn't appreciate being ignored, no matter what the reason, and this delay wasn't helping her blood pressure any either. If she was late to work she risked being taken off emergency cover as a penalty, and she really couldn't afford to lose her extra shifts.

“What?” Maggie asked as she leaned backwards to peer around the fridge door. Her face was flushed, despite having just been in the fridge, and her eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown on her forehead when she saw the irritated look on Gem's face. Gem could tell she was stressed, but she couldn't afford to notice. She was too much of a hurry.

“I need to speak to you.”

Maggie let out a mixture of a grunt and a groan and stood, slamming the fridge door closed a little harsher than she intended. She raised an eyebrow at her sister and leaned back against the now closed door, waiting rather impatiently for Gem to speak. Her expression reminded Gem of when they were teenagers–bad-tempered and sulky–and had been forced to spend time together. Their mother had been adamant that having a sister was like having a best-friend for life, but as she was an only child herself, neither girl had been convinced.

Maggie was already suspicious. She had a niggling feeling she knew what her sister had come to talk about, and she was trying her best not to bite and interrupt before Gem confirmed her suspicions. No matter what she had to say, Maggie already knew the answer. This moment had been building for a while, and the bubbling tension in her stomach at the arrival of her sister confirmed she was ready to put her foot down. Finally. Nothing was going to get in the way of her leaving work early, not her sister, not even a lack of whipping cream.

An awkward silence existed before Maggie shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, go ahead,” she said irritably. I don't have all day.

“Dad says you're busy so I won't keep you,” Gem said as she leaned against the door-frame and gave Maggie a weak smile. She looked tired and troubled, but Maggie pretended not to notice. Gem was an expert manipulator, and for all Maggie knew she might've found a way to make herself look right at her wits end to aid in her efforts. “I need to ask you something and I didn't want to do it over the phone.”

She won't use the telephone because she knows it's easier to talk me round in person, Maggie thought, her face hardening. She stared at her sister, waiting for the inevitable, secretly hoping she was wrong. It would be nice to be wrong about this, she thought, but she'd seen that look on Gem's face a hundred times before.

Gem lowered her voice to a whisper and glanced over her shoulder just in case their dad was in earshot. “I know I said the other night it would be the last time,” she said, more to the door-frame than to Maggie. She turned her head and looked at her sister with big doe-eyes. Maggie deliberately kept her face stony. “...but I'm really struggling, Mags. I know you'll probably hate me for asking again, but—“

“But what?” Maggie snapped. Whoops. So much for holding back. “You know I'll be upset about it, but you ask anyway?” She let out a frustrated huff and folded her arms across her chest. She really wasn't in the mood for this.

“I know it sucks,” Gem said, a little taken aback. “But you know I'd do the same for you.”

Her words were like a red flag to a bull and Maggie felt her chest tightening as she tried to keep her cool. “Really?” she said, spluttering a laugh. “I hear that expression so often, and yet it's never actually happened.”

“What?” Gem asked, her brow darkening. “What do you mean?” She glanced at her wrist watch to check the time, which was another red flag for Maggie. Once again Gem had turned up out of the blue needing something and she didn't even have the courtesy to stay engaged in the conversation; her mind was already travelling onto the next thing. How long had she allocated for this chat, Maggie wondered. Her sister was obviously so used to her agreeing to everything that even a slight stall in the conversation set Gem back for time. It infuriated Maggie how predictable she'd apparently become.

“Everyone's always telling me that when it's my turn they'll drop their plans to help me out, but frankly, I don't believe it. Maybe, just maybe, that offer isn't good enough for me any more.”

This time Gem let out a huff. She didn't have time for this, and she hadn't even got to her question yet. Typical Maggie, choosing this kind of moment to have a heart-to-heart when she really didn't have the time to stick around and listen. “Maggie—“

“No,” Maggie said, frowning directly at Gem. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.” The more she thought about it, the more irritated and angry she felt. She was fed up of being leaned on by every member of her family; her dad at the bakery, her sister with the children. She'd had enough. Her staying in Silverwood had been the best decision for practically everyone in her life except her. Gem wouldn't have been able to use her as a glorified babysitter if she'd still been in Florida.

“No you won't help, or...?”

“No, I won't help, Gem. For once in my life I'm actually saying no.”

Gem's eyes immediately blazed, and she frowned back, the toe of her ankle boot tapping agitatedly against the tiled kitchen floor. As expected, she didn't seem at all apologetic. If anything, she looked completely pissed off. “Jeez, Maggie. What the hell's gotten into you?” she said. “I'm just asking a simple favour and you're acting like I've asked you for the moon. So much for helping out the family.” She tilted her head to the side and scowled at Maggie, her eyes flaming.

“I'm always helping out the family,” Maggie objected, her voice raising in anger. “There isn't a day in my life when I don't do things for other people, with or without appreciation. I know everyone thinks I have nothing better to do, and so I have no justified reason to say no, but you know what? I don't care anymore. I'm saying no for me.”

“Nice attitude,” Gem sneered as she fought back the tears that were prickling at the back of her eyes. She was determined not to cry, no matter what. She hadn't openly cried in front of anyone in years, and she wasn't about to start now. She bit down hard on her tongue to get control over her emotions. She didn't want to fight with Maggie, she didn't have the spare energy, but it was a really inconvenient time for her sister to have grown a backbone. “Thanks for nothing, sis.”

“You know what? I don't even care what you think. You burst in here and expect me to drop everything for you, and for what? Because we're family and that's what we're supposed to do? When have you ever offered to do anything for me, Gem? You know you only offer to pay me back one day because you–and probably everyone else around here–thinks that day will never come. I've done my share of helping out around here, it's your turn.”

“Why shouldn't you help out?” Gem snapped back, her voice rising to meet Maggie's. “You still live at home, you have no financial worries and you've got total job security. What makes you think you're so hard done by? Try raising two boys without—”

Maggie let out a loud snort and turned away, opening the fridge and looking inside so she didn't have to look at her sister's angry face. She was full of righteous indignation, which was fuelled by the fact she knew she had her dad's support. She'd heard what Greg had said when Gem had entered the bakery–the wall between the shop front and the kitchen was thin and offered no soundproofing–and she felt a lot more confident speaking out knowing she had her father's support. “Why don't you try raising your boys?” Maggie snapped, resuming her search through the fridge. “Don't lecture me on how hard it is. I know how hard it is. I spend more time with your kids than you do.”

The wounded silence she received suggested to Maggie that she'd gone too far, but it was too late to take back her words. And really, in her heart of hearts, she knew she was right. Perhaps she shouldn't have said them so abruptly and in the heat of the moment, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She shoved aside a covered dish of butter and the bowls of chilled fruits that were still to be made into pie filling, not even noticing when Gem turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen.

By the time Maggie had located the missing jug of cream–which had been in there all along hiding behind the leaves of two pineapples–Gem was long gone.

“Gem?” Greg asked as his eldest daughter burst out of the kitchen and strode across the shop front to the main door. She kept her eyes fixed on the exit and didn't respond when she heard her name. Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks creating smears in her make-up. “Gem!”

Gem ignored him and wrenched open the door, sending the shopkeeper's bell into a frenzy of noise. She tried to yank the door closed behind her, but the anti-slam mechanism fought against her, causing it to jar in her hands. She pulled her hand free and marched out of the doorway without a backwards glance, rubbing roughly at her cheeks with the back of her coat sleeve. Greg watched with concerned eyes until she was out of sight, then went straight out back to the kitchen.

~~~~~*~~~~~

~~~~~*~~~~~

After the shock of what Maggie had said to her that morning, Gem's anger set in. It was a deep resentful anger, long suppressed that had its roots in their shared childhood.

She'd just about managed to get to work on time, but only by a fraction of a second. She'd rushed to her locker, still out of breath from running and the sharp winter air, and stood there for a moment, hunched over, staring at the dull grey paint on the walls but not really seeing anything. She couldn't forget the expression on Maggie's face when she'd turned back to the fridge, dismissing her with her body language if not with her words, and said, 'I spend more time with your kids than you do.'

How those words had wounded her.

Even thinking of them now sent a chill through Gem and she felt her throat constricting, her chest getting tight. She brushed angrily at a tear that threatened to spill from her red-rimmed eyes and sucked in a deep breath. She had to put all that aside for now, but the words kept repeating over and over in her mind.

How could Maggie have been so cruel? Did she really think Gem wasn't aware of how little she saw her boys? Did she think it was something that a mother could just forget? Overlook? Maggie had no idea how hard it was. She had no idea of the guilt Gem felt every morning when she kissed each of her son's foreheads as they slept in their beds, their mouths open and their eyelids flickering as they slept. It was one of the few times Austin wasn't causing havoc and she missed it. She never got to see it.

She never had the chance to ask the boys what they'd been up to at school, or even help them with their homework if they needed it–she wasn't even sure if Scotty helped them. It hurt her deeply that she couldn't be there for those moments, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. She was the breadwinner, she had to go to work.

The last thing she wanted to do was go to her boss and admit she couldn't get a sitter for the late shift, but after exhausting all her backup plans during her lunch break, Gem realised she had little choice. She waited a good five minutes after her shift ended–just in case she might be accused of slacking–and made her way with a heavy heart to her bosses office.

As expected, her boss glanced up for a few seconds from her computer screen to catch the basics of what Gem had come to talk about before her eyes trailed back to the screen. Gem wasn't fooled; she knew her boss spent most of the day on Facebook.

“Sorry to let you down at such short notice,” Gem babbled, “but my sis... sitter let me down at the last minute.” She coloured at her slip-up and nervously glanced down at her shoes. She hated the way her confidence seemed to disappear whenever she had to speak privately to her boss in her office. She had a feeling it was a throwback to her school days, when being called into the principle's office was only ever a bad experience. But school had been a long time ago, surely she should be over it by now?

“There are plenty of people looking for an extra shift,” Gem's boss said, interrupting Gem's nervous babbling, and not a moment too soon. Gem had started explaining how eager she was for extra shifts, how she was really hoping to be able to spoil her boys this year, and how sorry she was that she couldn't fulfil her request for overtime. It was all unnecessary information and she could tell her boss wasn't really listening, but she just couldn't seem to keep her mouth closed. She always babbled when she was nervous.

“If you aren't available for overtime anymore I can take you off the rota.” Once again this was said to the computer screen.

Gem felt her cheeks flushing with colour. She'd been half expecting this. She'd been at the hotel for six months now, which was three months past the time she was supposed to be on probation, but she was still being treated like the new girl. It was humiliating. She'd hoped that offering herself up for extra shifts would improve her position at the hotel, but if anything it seemed to have got under her boss' nose. They probably thought she was trying to hard, she wondered.

“Just on this occasion,” Gem muttered, wringing her hands together before remembering that she was an adult and should be acting like one. She straightened her back and looked determinedly forward, but it didn't make a difference; her boss still only had eyes for the computer screen. “I'll make other plans for my shift tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

Gem waited but after an awkward silence for a minute or two she realised that was all the answer she was going to receive. She attempted to keep her face composed and gathered her bag and coat from the chair opposite the desk. Her boss' office was set out like an interrogation room, with one chair facing the large, wooden desk. Every time Gem entered the room she couldn't help but think it was set out that way for a reason; to put the fear of God into any employee who dared enter. She was more than happy to leave, even without a word of goodbye.

~~~~~*~~~~~

“So what did your sister say?” Justin asked as he and Maggie trudged through the fresh snow to his waiting car. It was mid-afternoon, and as planned he'd arrived to pick her up from work. Maggie let out a huff which appeared from her mouth like a vent releasing steam. She glanced sideways at him and leaned closer to his body, needing the comfort of feeling him beside her as she relived what had happened that morning. In response, he reached for her gloved hand and laced it through his arm, bringing her closer to his black duffel coat.

“You know, I shouldn't really be bothering you with all this,” she said, more to herself than to him. Justin eyed her and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“And why not?”

“Because you're on vacation,” Maggie said, “you're supposed to be taking a break from day-to-day life.”

Justin snorted and rolled his eyes. “Ginger, I've been on the road so long that I've not been involved in family drama for years. Hearing about yours kinda reminds me of home.” A fond smile crossed his face and Maggie turned her head to look at him.

“Well, anytime you wanna be reminded, you know where to come,” she said, dropping her eyes to the sidewalk and the heap of grey, slushy snow compressed in a pile against the side of the road.

Justin gave her a warm smile and nudged her slightly with his hip. Maggie turned to meet his eyes and finding a crooked smile on his face, couldn't help but smile weakly back. “You'll work it out,” he said, giving her body a squeeze. “You're sisters.”

Maggie dipped her head and rolled her eyes. How come whenever she had an argument with her sister everyone always said the same thing, 'You're sisters, you can't stay mad at each other for long'? As if somehow being related meant they should be the best of friends.

“Easy for you to say. You haven't got a sister,” Maggie said as they paused at the curb, preparing to cross the icy street. Despite the snowplows having been out within the hour, there were still deep furrows in the road up to Maggie's ankles, if not more. Sensing her hesitation, Justin released his arm from between hers and reached for her small gloved hand. Maggie looked up into his eyes and smiled. After years of having to look after herself, it felt nice to know that someone cared.

“It's not much easier with brothers, believe me. Different problems, same drama.”

“But you miss it?” Maggie asked flashing him a sideways smirk. She didn't think being on the road all the time sounded all that bad. Dropping in during Thanksgiving and Christmas, seeing your family for only a few days a year? She could handle that.

“I miss them,” Justin said. “It's all part of being a family.”

“I guess.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

The last thing Gem wanted to do was to sit at home with the boys whilst Scotty watched sports on TV. Walking into the house and finding her husband and her eldest son sprawled out on the sofa, whilst Max played with his plastic farm set at their feet, made her stomach sink.

So this is what they do while I'm at work, she thought miserably.

“Aust, Max, go get your coats,” she said, as she dumped her bag onto the coffee table and stretched out her arms above her head. She ached all over from her shift, but that was nothing new. She'd have a long bubble bath later, she told herself, when the kids were in bed and she could properly relax.

Austin's head turned at the sound of his name and he looked momentarily surprised to see her standing there. “Why?” he asked in an irritated tone, his brow furrowing slightly. For a second Gem glimpsed a perfect miniature clone of her husband before Austin pushed his bottom lip out petulantly. For all Scotty's flaws, it had to be said that Gem had never seen him pout.

“Because I said,” she replied, trying to keep the bite out of her voice. Calm and in control, she repeated to herself as she waited for her son to follow her instructions. She'd been reading a book about dealing with teenagers, and the one thing she'd picked up from it straight away was that it was no good screaming and shouting at her son. Even so, when he had that look on his face it was hard for her not to raise her voice. “I'm taking you to nanny's. Don't forget to bring your homework and your book bag.”

Austin let out a groan and got up from the sofa, dragging his feet all the way to his room. Max was much easier to organise. He was ready to go in the time it took Austin to come back downstairs. As Gem wrapped up her youngest son in his fleecy coat and grabbed a beanie hoodie from off the coat rack to keep his ears warm, she shot a glance at Scotty to see if he was going to speak to her.

Things were still uncomfortable between them since their fight the night before. They'd gone to bed in silence, and risen in the morning exactly the same. She'd made the boys' lunch packs and Scotty's lunch as usual and muttered goodbye before she left for work, but Scotty had avoided meeting her eyes. She'd felt just as uncomfortable.

“We'll be a couple of hours,” she said to the side of Scotty's head. “Be back around dinner time.”

Scotty nodded, and when she said nothing in return turned his head to gaze at her. Gem met his eye but quickly looked away upon seeing the searching look there. He knew she shouldn't be home from work as early as she was, but he clearly wasn't going to ask her about it. Neither was he going to object to her taking the boys to her parent's house when he was doing a fine job watching them as it was. He wasn't going to say anything it seemed.

Gem felt uncomfortable scooping up the boys and heading off to her parent's house, but she still felt jittery and torn up about her argument with Maggie that morning. She needed to talk to her mom. She needed assurance her whole family didn't feel she was burdening them with the raising of her sons. And if they did... she just hoped she wouldn't fall apart.

~~~~~*~~~~~