Two days after Lucy secured the job at Nichols Delivery Service, she officially started unpacking her bags. Her cousin Stephanie, who had lived in Frost River as long as she could remember, had graciously offered Lucy her spare bedroom.
“So, tell me everything.” Steph tucked her fuzzy-sock-clad feet under her as she perched on the bed. “What’s it like being in the Nichols house all day every day? Micah hasn’t driven you too crazy, has he? ‘Cause I can deal with him if you need-”
“No, no,” Lucy chuckled. “Your boyfriend has been perfectly polite. And you know I can handle him even if he wasn’t.” She smiled as she started putting sweaters on hangers and into the closet. "Everyone’s been sure to make me feel welcome."
Stephanie gained a knowing smile. “Sam offered you hot cocoa, right?”
“So much that I feel like I’m floating.” Lucy put a hand on her hip. “Did you know that he keeps seven different flavors of cocoa in that place? Peppermint, caramel, snickerdoodle, and… others I don’t remember. Oh, and vanilla. Which kind of defeats the whole purpose of it being hot chocolate.” Stephanie snorted out a laugh.
“If there’s one thing Sam Nichols knows, it’s Christmas spirit.”
“I’m not complaining. It’s kind of nice, actually.” She shut the drawer she’d filled with socks. “He invited me to the Christmas festival, too.”
“He did?” Steph’s eyebrow rose. “And you said yes?”
“Well… yeah, I guess.” Lucy shrugged. “If you wanted us to go together instead, I can-”
“No, that’s great! Sam’s the perfect person to go with.” She smiled teasingly. “I’m sure you’ll have a grand time.”
“It’s not like that.” Lucy threw a sock at her. “We just met, and he’s my co-worker, that’s it.”
“He offered you cocoa.”
“According to you, he does that to everyone.”
“He does, but that’s besides the point.” Steph rocked up onto her knees. “You could do a lot worse than Sam Nichols. He’s sweet, and he’s cute, and-”
“You date him, then.” Lucy tossed her the other sock. “We’re going as friends. That’s it. I don’t need a relationship right now.”
“Gotcha.” Stephanie stood up and handed her the now-folded socks. “Just friends. Totally platonic companions to the Christmas festival. Which is renowned for its romantic atmosphere. Nothing to see here.”
She ducked out the door just in time for the sock ball to miss her.
-
The jingle bells above the office door made her smile as she entered. Sam’s desk was vacant, the jukebox uncharacteristically quiet. The whole place smelled like baking cookies. Lucy tugged her coat off and hung it by the door.
Even though she should go straight to her office, her nose led her feet in the direction of the kitchen. Warmer than the rest of the house as the oven baked away, the kitchen seemed empty, though supplies were spread out across the counters and dozens of sugar cookies covered the dining table.
“Hello?” Lucy called, worried the oven had been left unattended. There was a thunk and a grunt, and Sam’s head popped up from behind the counter.
“Oh! Are you okay?” Lucy hurried toward him.
“How is it every time we meet I end up sore?” Sam asked with a laugh.
“And I end up apologizing.” She took his arm to help him up. “Sorry.”
“No, no, I’m fine. The ginger was at the back of the cabinet and I can’t make gingerbread without it, so...” He held up the bottle of spice. A timer dinged and he grinned. “Oh, that’ll be the last of the sugar cookies.”
“You don’t have enough?” Lucy nodded in the direction of the dining table. Sam followed her gaze and chuckled.
“Nichols Delivery runs the cookie decorating booth at the Christmas festival.”
“Aha.” She squinted at him. “What is your job, exactly?”
“Officially, I’m the office manager. Unofficially,” he started ticking off on his fingers, “phone answerer, document filer, website coordinator, office decorator, cocoa maker, gingerbread house architect.” He pulled on a pair of oven mitts. “And, uh, whatever else needs doing.” He retrieved the pan of cookies, which had been cut masterfully into various holiday shapes like the others, and moved them to a cooling rack while she watched, not really sure what to say.
“That’s an impressive resume.”
“I like to think so!” He took a deep breath. “So, you want to help with the decorating?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know-”
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. They have to cool for a little while anyway, so you can get some work done while you wait. We only have to do a dozen or so as examples. And for eating.” He stepped closer and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll even let you have the trees.”
She had to laugh.
“Well, if you’re giving up the trees, how can I refuse?”
Thus, she found herself back in the kitchen twenty minutes later, having only filled out one of the many spreadsheets she would need to stare at later. But the sparkle in Sam’s eyes made it worth it. He had flour in his dark hair, presumably from the gingerbread-making process, and he had on the most obnoxiously Christmas apron she’d ever seen. It was patterned with stockings and mittens, and the lights worked into the design actually twinkled.
Lucy gave him a once-over. “That’s quite a look.”
“Why thank you.” He glanced down at the apron. “My grandmother made it for me. Can’t make cookies without it. And, to make it even better…” he opened the pantry and she instantly knew what was coming.
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes.” Sam held out the second most obnoxiously Christmas apron she’d ever seen, one that could double as a Mrs. Claus costume.
“I’m not wearing that.”
Sam blinked. “But it’s tradition.”
“I find it difficult to believe Micah would ever put this on.”
“Well, technically, it was my Aunt Sharon’s. But she’s the one who taught me how to decorate cookies, and even though it’s been a few years since she passed, whoever helps has to wear it.”
“That’s true.” Micah strolled into the kitchen and plucked up a star-shaped cookie. “I’m just glad it’s you this year and not me.” He stuffed the sweet in his mouth, crumbs falling into his dark beard.
“Hey, hey, hey, those are for the festival.” Sam shooed him away from the cookies. “I’m not going to let you run the booth with Stephanie if you keep eating the merchandise.”
“You can’t control everything, little brother. And anyway, I heard you had a date.” Micah winked at Lucy, who felt her face flush.
“It’s not a date!”
Lucy and Sam spoke at the same time, then turned wide eyes on each other. Micah burst out laughing and sauntered out the door, calling back over his shoulder, “You two have fun!”
Sam laughed awkwardly. “Brothers, am I right?”
“I wouldn’t actually know.” She gently took the apron from him and looped it over her head. “I’m an only child. Steph’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to siblings.”
"Oh." He ducked his head and handed her a plate of tree-shaped cookies and a piping bag of green icing, then pulled a plate of reindeer shapes closer and brandished his own tube of brown.
"So do you have a thing for reindeer or what?" Lucy asked as she started filling in her mini forest.
"Sorry?"
"Well, there are six in the front office alone. And you offered me the trees, not those. Favorite animal?"
"Uh…" he thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. When I was a kid, Uncle George assigned us different nicknames at Christmas time. Micah was Claus because he was the best at keeping presents secret. You couldn't get a hint out of him for anything - still can't."
His chuckle was contagious as Lucy imagined a tiny Micah guarding the gifts around the tree.
"Our younger brother Zach was Scrooge because he was the most money-conscious but also gave the best gifts. He had your job, actually, before he had to run off and get married."
"The nerve of him!" Lucy mimicked his fake seriousness. Sam’s smile was adorable, it just kind of crinkled up the corner of his mouth.
“And then I was Blitzen.”
“Blitzen, really?”
“Hey, just because he doesn’t have a shiny nose doesn’t mean he isn’t imperative to the team!”
She held up her hands in joking surrender, licking a bit of frosting off her finger and then going to wash her hands.
“Anyway, when I asked him his reasoning behind it, he said without the reindeer, Santa would still be at the North Pole.” He studied the plate of cookies for a moment. “Our parents died on Christmas Eve when I was ten. We came to live here with Uncle George and Aunt Sharon. I decided that I wasn’t going to let the loss change the holiday for me. It’s supposed to be a celebration of Christ’s birth and that’s the way it was going to stay.”
“So… without you, Christmas wouldn’t have happened around here, right?” They had both gone very still throughout the story, but now Lucy put her hand over his. “For what it’s worth, Blitzen is my mom’s favorite of the reindeer.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t patronize me, Lucy James.”
“No, I’m serious!” She couldn’t stop a giggle from popping out. “She made us all pick a favorite - Dad’s favorite is Donner and mine is Dasher.”
“Of course you’d pick the leader.”
“Well, someone needs to take charge.”
“Fair enough.”
They worked in silence for a minute before Sam said, “You know, I usually put a movie on while I’m doing this.” He wiped his hands on his apron and went over to the small television in the corner. “Do you like White Christmas?”
“Well, I mean, I’ve only seen it about thirty times, so... yes.” She usually watched it during the first few days of December, but between moving and her new job, she hadn’t had the chance yet. Sam grinned and turned it on, and they worked on, both of them able to quote their favorite lines and laugh at the jokes. By the time the characters were on their way to Vermont, Sam declared that they were done.
“That’s two dozen for the festival and one dozen for Emma at the bakery.” He started putting the decorated cookies into little boxes.
“Emma at the bakery?”
“Yep! We have a deal.” He loaded one of the boxes into a paper bag and took off his apron. “Speaking of, are you hungry?”
She wasn’t, really, but when she considered that it was either the bakery or back to her spreadsheets, she smiled and said, “I could go for something.”
-
“Sam Nichols, you’d better have my cookies!”
“I’m not stupid enough to show my face around here and not bring them, Miss Emma.” Sam chuckled as he and Lucy stood in the doorway and shook the snow off their coats. Frost River Bakery was small but cozy, and smelled of sugar and cinnamon. Emma herself was probably in her sixties, small, but with a twinkle in her eye that told Lucy she wasn’t someone to be messed with.
Sam hefted the paper bag of cookies onto the counter and waved for Lucy to follow. Emma dug through the bag.
“A dozen sugars… ooh! Decorated! Aren’t we fancy?” She winked at Sam, who looked delighted.
“Keep going.” He pointed in the bag. Emma raised an eyebrow and did as he said, then gave him a sly look.
“Double chocolate chip, Sam? Oh, Jenny’s gonna have your hide, you know you aren’t supposed to feed me these!”
Sam leaned across the counter.
“I also happen to know that they’re your favorite, so merry Christmas.”
They laughed together, and Emma patted his cheek. “You’re a good egg, Sam.”
“So I’m told.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You got the goods?”
They glanced in tandem at the back room. Emma shifted her eyes back to look at Lucy.
“Two for now, four for later.” She pulled a crinkling parchment bag from behind the counter and slid it to him. Sam peeked inside, nodded, and took it.
“You’re the best, Miss Emma.”
“So I’m told.” She winked again, and they both straightened. “Now, Sam, you’d better introduce me to your friend.”
“Oh! Right, uh, Emma Williams, this is Lucy James.”
Lucy extended her hand with a “Hi.”
“You’re the girl who got Zach’s job, right?” Emma gripped her hand. “We’re all very glad you’re here, my dear.”
"I'm glad to be here. Frost River is exactly what I needed."
"Just what I said when I rolled into town thirty years ago. And now look at me. Couldn't leave even if I wanted to." She smiled as she shook her head. "You'll be coming to the festival, won't you?"
"Practically everyone I've met has insisted that I have to go, so I'll be there."
Sam gave her an exaggerated eye-roll and went toward a table by the window as the door clanged open and another customer walked in.
"Thanks again, Miss Emma." He called as he sat down, got two napkins out of the dispenser, and placed them down like plates. Lucy sat across from him.
“Now,” said Sam, unrolling the top of the parchment bag, “get ready to have your mind blown.”
“Really? That’s a high promise.”
“These are worth it, trust me.” He pulled a croissant from the bag and placed it reverently in front of her. She blinked down at it.
“A croissant?”
“One of Miss Emma’s Christmas croissants. Try it.”
She shrugged and took a bite. Okay, so maybe this was the best thing she’d ever put in her mouth. Flaky, buttery, with just a pinch of cinnamon and vanilla.
“That’s delicious.”
“I know, right?” He did a little dance in his seat as he took a bite of his own. “Worth two dozen cookies any day.”
She couldn’t help but agree, especially when his face lit up with the pure joy of pastry and he looked for a moment like a little boy on Christmas morning. That expression she could get used to.
