3 She remained very close to her family all her life. While they thought she was eccentric, they were proud of her for building her own business.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Noelle

Noelle Northwood woke up the morning of Cass’s funeral to a pit of dread in her stomach and a crying hangover. It wasn’t as bad as the drinking hangovers she used to get, but it wasn’t great. She wasn’t ready to go to a second funeral for a second mother. Burying one in a lifetime had been plenty.

From the time she’d lost her parents to the day she’d shown up on Cass’s doorstep, she’d been adrift. Then Carrigan’s had opened its doors and heart to her. Noelle felt she and the farm belonged to each other. The trees were her salvation, and Cass had given them to her.

She wasn’t ready for this funeral, but she never would be, so she got dressed. She freshly buzzed her undercut and put on her carefully constructed Dealing with Funeral Visitors outfit, black slacks with a black button-down, the sleeves worn long to hide her tattoos, in deference to the Orthodox side of the Rosensteins. Her tie and suspenders were black matte with embossed black stripes. It was a look Cass would have approved of.

On her way out the door, she patted the head of the elephant statue that sat next to her fireplace. Like much of the art at Carrigan’s, it was inexplicably decoupaged and covered in glitter, of unknown provenance, and decidedly odd. Noelle loved it very much.

In the kitchen she started laying out pastries and little quiches Mrs. Matthews must have spent all night baking. When Noelle found carafes of hot cocoa waiting on the kitchen island, she wondered how late Mr. Matthews had dragged his wife to bed. Today they would all three be walking the tightrope of having been family but not relations. Mrs. Matthews was handling it by making sure everyone was fed. Mr. Matthews was, Noelle suspected, handling it by fixing things that didn’t need fixing, and trying to make his wife rest. She would have to check on them both. Along with Cass they were the chosen parents of her heart. She needed to make sure they weren’t left adrift this week.

The door to the kitchen swung open. A tiny woman who looked exactly like a very young Cass walked in, barefoot, wearing a puke-green reindeer sweater and leggings with a T-shirt wrapped around her head like a pineapple.

The woman blinked at her. Noelle blinked back, her mind racing. Who was this elf?

She must be a Rosenstein cousin Noelle hadn’t met yet. She was far too beautiful, far too early on this particular morning, for Noelle’s comfort.