Noelle swallowed hard. “Miriam Blum, will you stay at Carrigan’s and help us save Christmasland?” she asked, holding out her hand.

Miriam’s face transformed with joy. God, Noelle had known this woman was trouble the first time she saw her, she just never imagined how much.

“Hell yes, I will.” Miriam grinned, shaking Noelle’s hand. “Let’s call the Rosensteins with our plan.”

“Let’s have Hannah call the Rosensteins with our plan,” Noelle amended. “You know how she gets when she’s not included.”

“Can we go home now?” Miriam sounded punch-drunk. She was starting to list over in her seat. “I need to talk to Hannah. And the Matthewses. Then I need to sleep a lot.”

Noelle’s eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. Miriam being at Carrigan’s might disrupt her whole life, but it would also settle something big inside the hearts of the people she loved best. She knew the hole Miriam had left in their lives, and she hoped this really was for good.

Because it was going to be so much worse if she left again now.

With a plan in place, Hannah and Miriam spent the next week hunkered down in the office: outlining all the businesses in Advent they could partner with, building a multipronged PR strategy, researching permits they would need to file and the best places to rent tents and generators and table linens in the area. Hannah was in heaven.

Noelle felt a little left out, watching them together, but not as territorial as she had a few weeks ago. She was used to being a two-person team with Hannah, and she’d expected to feel threatened by the closeness Hannah and Miriam were rediscovering. Instead she felt mostly grateful. She had always worried that, if she ever got seriously involved with a woman again, she’d have a hard time balancing her closeness with Hannah with a romance. Miriam understood, perfectly, what it meant to have a best friend who was half of you, and she and Hannah had their own connection.

Not that she and Miriam were having a romance. They’d been very clear with each other about that. Saving the farm came first. Making out came later—or maybe never.