Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Hogle, Sarah, author.

Title: Just like magic: a novel / Sarah Hogle.

Description: New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2022.

Identifiers: LCCN 2022026816 (print) | LCCN 2022026817 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593539859 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9780593539866 (ebook)

Subjects: LCGFT: Novels.

Classification: LCC PS3608.O48268 J87 2022 (print) | LCC PS3608.O48268 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022026816

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022026817

Cover design: Vikki Chu

Book design by Katy Riegel, adapted for ebook by Maggie Hunt

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Cover

Praise for Sarah Hogle

Also by Sarah Hogle

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Readers Guide

Excerpt from You Deserve Each Other

About the Author

To Samantha Tan and Gritty: the greatest love pairing that never should have been

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Chapter One

Countdown to Christmas:
11 Days

LUMPY SNOWFLAKES TUMBLE from above, “Blue Christmas” dancing out of the speakers of Mary Had a Little Boutique. The historical brick buildings glisten like icicles in the pearly dusk that shadows Old Homestead Road, all of their names hand-lettered across display windows. This tiny Colorado valley town has a population south of two thousand, composed of six blocks neatly divided between three roads, the middle one the commercial strip. Despite having lived here for about eight months, I’ve never ventured into town before, since I might be recognized (wearing off-the-rack Rue 21!). Or worse: I might not be recognized at all.

Everything here has a cutesy name, usually Old West or mountain inspired, as if anyone could forget we’re in the Rocky Mountains when we’re literally shaded by them—Spruce It Up Hair Saloon, Frontier Hardware, Silver Mine Dining, Rocky Road Ice Cream Parlor. The boutique glowing in front of me is rustic-wedding-in-a-barn trendy. Like if the Lumineers were a store. Surely I’ll find gifts for my prickly, difficult-to-please relatives in here.

I have to.

The store is small and brightly lit, so it’s impossible to avoid the attention of its manager, leaning eagerly across the counter when I push open the door, its bells chiming. Her eyes squint, then widen. “You look familiar. Are you—?”

“No,” I’m quick to respond, turning to run an idle finger over a cloth napkin. My stomach churns at the forty-dollar price tag. “I’m nobody.”

She snaps her fingers. “Bettie Hughes! Oh my goodness! You must be here visiting your grandparents. I’m always seeing Lawrence’s car whizzing around. It’s such a treat, every time, always waves hello, stops for a chat if he has a minute. Couldn’t be nicer.” Her voice goes a bit wobbly. “Your grandmother isn’t as . . . well, she’s busy. Probably gets tired of being stopped all the time for autographs.” She tries to sound cheerful about whatever memory she’s reliving, in which my grandmother crushed the warm, friendly image this woman had held of her like a sorceress grinding the bones of her admirers.