“Sometimes preparing for the worst is the only way you won’t be disappointed... or hurt.”

He wasn’t talking about a Christmas Festival now, and he also wasn’t talking about what she could or couldn’t deliver. There was a sadness in Noah that she hadn’t noticed before.

They walked on in silence for another block down the middle of the street at Cat’s behest. Merry slept soundly around them. Clouds had rolled in, blotting out the stars as they’d worked.

“Look,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. In the soft circle of light cast off from the streetlamp and in the glow of that Rudolph, they could see it. Snowflakes.

“Great. I forgot to reach out to the township to see if the trucks are running,” Noah said. “We’re supposed to get a couple of inches by tomorrow afternoon. I don’t know how much of our salt stock was damaged by the flood. And this probably means at least a snow delay for the schools.”

He reached for his phone as if he was going to solve all the problems right then and there.

She squeezed his arm. “Just shut up and look, Noah. There’s magic in the first snow.”

He did look but not at the snow. He was watching her.

“You’re lucky there isn’t more of this because I would hit you in the face with the biggest snowball I could make,” Cat threatened, tilting her head to watch the flakes float down.

“That sounds like something you’d do.”

She tucked her arm through his, enjoying the slight hesitation he had, and together they walked slowly down the middle of Main Street as the snow fell silently around them.

All was silent in Trailer Town. They tiptoed over cables and cords to the fold out steps of her RV. Decision time.

Cat turned to look at Noah.

He was staring at her, softly.

“Congratulations on your school, Cat.”

“Congratulations on your reindeer, Noah.”

“You have snowflakes on your eyelashes,” he whispered.

“So do you,” she reached up toward his face, intending to wipe away the snow that was collecting in his dark hair. But he stopped her. His hand gripped the inch of wrist that was visible between sleeve and glove.

He flipped her hand palm up and traced the tattoo with his gloved finger. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What?”

“You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?” Cat asked.

“We met before we met,” he said, still staring at her wrist.

“Took you long enough,” Cat said lightly. She tried pulling her hand away, but he held fast.

He raised his gaze to hers. “You have no idea how many times I’ve relived that moment. How many times I wondered if I’d ever get to meet you, thank you. How those seconds have made me start reconsidering everything in my life…”