Now, was that time.

  She pushed open the door to the high school and stepped inside. It only took a second to introduce herself to the secretary and be buzzed in. “You’ll find Mr. Holden out at the back. He should be at the bleachers next to the football field.”

  She gave a grateful nod and walked down the long corridor. The school was quiet, classes were in progress and she only passed one kid with a pink slip in his hand.

  She followed the directions to the entrance to the football field, but something caught her eye at the side. The door to the changing rooms was open. Judging from the smell – it had to be the guys’ changing room. There was hardly any part of the floor that wasn’t wet and towels and spare clothes were all over the place.

  But it was the tones of a familiar voice that stopped her dead. Marlie.

  “Hey, Mitch. I’ve been looking for you.”

  It was over familiar and way too friendly for a student to a teacher. It made her cringe.

  Her footsteps stopped at the door. She didn’t mean to spy. But she also didn’t feel right intruding.

  “It’s Mr. Holden. What do you want, Marlie?”

  Mitch’s voice wasn’t friendly. It was straight and to the point.

  The cheerleader uniform seemed at least two sizes too small. Were you meant to see their knickers clearly on display and nothing but pure cleavage?

  Oh no. This teenage crush was out of control.

  Marlie sidled over to Mitch. She reached out to touch his arm with her finger. “I was wondering if you and I have might have a little chat about my options for next year.”

  It was the body language, the teasing in her voice. Raging hormones all over the place. Her finger was still resting on Mitch’s arm.

  He reached over grabbed her hand and lifted it away.

  “You’re right, Marlie. We need to talk.” He folded his arms across his chest and turned to face her. “I don’t ever, ever want to see you act like this again. You’re a smart girl. Far too smart to behave like this. First thing, I’m a teacher, you’re a student. I will never, ever, be interested in anyone who has been a student in this school. Secondly, I’m going to have a chat with your counselor about you today. The way you’re dressed and the way you’re acting. It’s not appropriate.” He sighed and his tone softened. “Don’t ever do this, Marlie. Impress a guy with your mind, your wit. If you feel like this is how you should act – then it’s time to go home. You’re better than this, Marlie. I believe in you. You just need to believe in yourself.”

  It was harsh. But he probably needed to be. And Emma’s stomach was flipping over and over. Partway in sympathy for Marlie and partway for the position Mitch had just found himself in, and the way he’d handled himself.

  There was a little whimper and then Marlie rushed past in a flurry of far-too-short cheerleader skirt.

  Mitch waited a few seconds then slumped back against one of the lockers. He looked relieved.

  It made her love him all the more.

  She took a few steps inside. “Mitch?”

  His head shot up. “Emma? What are you doing here?”

  She gave a little smile. “Watching you teach a student how to respect herself.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe she just did that. I really need to talk to her counselor. I wonder if something else is going on.”

  Emma stepped into the changing room and put her hand on his arm. “You did good, Mitch. I heard you. Firm, but kind. You made it really clear for her.”

  He still looked worried. “But what if that’s how she acts around guys all the time? What if she thinks that’s what she should be doing?”

  Emma squeezed his hand. “And that’s why I like you so much. You’re worried. Do exactly what you said you would. Talk to her counselor and let her deal with it. I’m guessing she knows as much about teenage girls and you do about teenage boys.”

  He nodded and blew out a long, slow breath. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I’ll speak to her today. She’s more than capable of setting Marlie on the right track.” His gaze met hers. “You never told me. What are you doing here?”

  She took a deep breath and licked her lips. “I came to see you.”

  He must have heard the tone of her voice, the slight hesitance, the slight concern.

  He stepped forward. “And you couldn’t wait until tonight?”

  This time she was sure. She locked her gaze on his. “No. I couldn’t. We need to talk. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  *

  It wasn’t an ideal situation. His office was cramped and not exactly tidy. But it was the only place they were guaranteed a little privacy.

  He gestured to the seat at the desk and then picked up the other chair and moved it around next to her. This wasn’t a teacher/student scenario. This was Emma. And if something was wrong, he wanted to be as close as possible.

  She looked nervous, antsy. What on earth could she be worried about?

  His stomach fell. Was she going back? Back to the groom she was supposed to marry?

  She seemed to have dressed carefully. She was wearing a navy, velvet coat he’d never seen before, which enhanced all the curves of her body, and her new, black shiny, knee-length boots. Leather gloves sat on her lap.

  He reached over and took her hand. He’d do anything to persuade her to stay. Anything at all.

  She sucked in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Only thing was, she didn’t open her eyes. It was as if it was easier to say the words with her eyes closed.

  “I need to tell you something. And I’m going to do it really quickly, because that’s the only way I can.” Her eyes fluttered open for a second. “And once I tell you, Mitch, please, please don’t say anything. Let me go and take a little time to think about what I’ve told you. I don’t want you to just blurt something out without thinking it through. Promise me. This is really, really important to me.”

  He blinked. She looked so sincere. So worried.

  “I promise,” he said quickly. What on earth could be this serious?

  She closed her eyes again. “The reason I ended up here. The reason I didn’t get married. Six weeks before my wedding I had an ectopic pregnancy. I had surgery and there were complications.” Her shoulders slumped a little and her voice slowed. “I can’t have kids. I can never have kids. I heard Bryce talking in the church vestry. He wanted kids. He really wanted kids – kids of his own – but just didn’t want to let me down. He thought it would be easier to get married, then find a reason to split-up later. I wasn’t enough for him. He wanted the full deal. The family package guarantee.”

  The words made his blood run cold.

  He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. She’d been pregnant. She’d had an ectopic surgery with complications. Her chance for children was gone. And her groom decided the best thing to do was marry then divorce her?

  What a dipstick.

  He released his grasp on her hands, his own clenching into fists. He wanted to punch the guy clean out. Who did that? Who decided that Emma wouldn’t be enough?

  His stomach was in knots. Because he knew exactly how she felt.

  Then it hit him like a slap on the back of the head.

  In fact, he didn’t.

  He had to remember that. Emma had lost a baby. She’d seen her chance of parenthood slip through her fingers like grains of sand on a beach.

  Then, six weeks later, her fiancé had pulled that on her.

  He had to tell her. He had to tell her that it was true for him, too. Kids – naturally – would never be on the cards.

  He should have told her first. His insides were curling up and cringing.

  She’d stopped talking. Her eyes were fixed on the wall at the other side of his room. A wall filled with relics of the past, trophies and pictures of his long gone professional career.

  It was odd. He didn’t want to stare at them every day at home. He didn’t want to think about the cost.

  But here – in high school – the kids loved them. Often, they were the starting point of a conversation that the kid really needed to have. A conversation about something entirely different. So here, he could tolerate them.

  Emma stood up quickly. She walked to the door and turned around. He was on his feet. Ready to speak. Ready to tell her the truth. But she put up her hand straight away, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “Emma-”

  “Don’t Mitch. You promised. You promised me. I need to walk away right now and get some space. Think about what I’ve told you and when you know what you want to do, let me know.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze. Didn’t look at him again. She just held her head high and walked down the corridor.

  *

  Every muscle in his body was tense and rigid. He couldn’t believe what she’d just told him. What he could understand was how heartbroken she looked as she said the words.

  He got that. He did. He understood the way no one else could.

  In a way, it made them the perfect match.

  And in a way, it was a disaster.

  He sagged down into the chair and put his head in his hands.

  He didn’t want Emma to think that he loved her because she was like him – she couldn’t have a family.

  She had to know that he loved her already. He loved her before that and that hadn’t changed.

  In a way, he’d found his perfect person. She would understand completely. Natural kids just couldn’t happen. But, maybe, in time they could talk about other options – other ways to have a family together.

  For him, it was so important that Emma knew she was enough. She was enough for him just the way she was. Just like he hoped he would be enough for her. But how could he know that?

  He leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

  Now, he felt pathetic. He should have told her. He should have told her when they were at the side of Miracle Lake.

  He should have told her that he’d been bowled over by her the very first second he’d seen her.

  He should have told her she’d filled all his waking thoughts since he’d met her. She’d filled most of his dreams too.

  He should have told her when she looked at him; he felt his whole heart swell. When he touched her, he felt so connected to her, so in tune that he couldn’t ever imagine being with anyone else.

  He should have told her that he loved her.

  For the first time in his life, Mitch Holden felt like a coward.

  And he hated that.

  Chapter Thirteen

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  She wasn’t quite sure how she got back to Bramble House. The sun was shining high in the sky, but it hadn’t melted any of the snow in the streets. The whole of Marietta still had that Christmas look and feel. But Christmas was the last thing she was feeling right now.

  She pushed open the door to Bramble House and the smell of cookies nearly knocked her over. It was amazing. Like a huge, warm hug.

  She brushed away one of the tears that had sneaked down her cheek.

  She knew Mitch had wanted to say something. She could sense his reaction next to her. Mitch’s first reaction was protection. She’d seen that in him. But that wasn’t what she wanted – it wasn’t what she needed.

  She needed truth. She needed honesty. She needed him to sit down and think hard. The guy loved kids. He worked in a blooming high school.

  He’d be a great father and she imagined he’d always thought a family would be in his future.

  She didn’t want to be the person to get in his way. She didn’t want to muddy the waters.

  She took off her coat and hung it up on the large coat stand. Bramble House was strangely quiet. It was usually full of bustle and noise.

  She walked through to the library. A large enticing plate of cookies was sitting on the table. Was that steam coming off them? She looked around again; surely, Chris must be around here somewhere?

  “Chris? Are you there?”

  She walked through to the kitchen. There were some dishes in the sink but it was quiet, too.

  The smell was enticing her, drawing her back to the library like the Pied Piper playing his tunes to the children.

  She sat down at the table and looked at the cookies. What was that? Was that glitter?

  She picked up the nearest cookie. From the smell it was spiced with ginger and cinnamon. Just what she needed right now. She opened her mouth and then stopped.

  There definitely was something glittering over the top of this cookie. Was it Chris’s magic dust?

  She was being ridiculous now. Of course it wasn’t. Maybe he’d purchased some edible glitter and decided to throw it in the cookies for fun.

  She looked around. Still no one there.

  She closed her eyes for a second. What harm could one little wish do?

  But today wasn’t the same as Miracle Lake. She didn’t want to wish for the impossible.

  She wished for thing that would make her truly happy.

  She closed her eyes and whispered, “I wish for someone to love me just the way I am. I wish to be enough.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‡

  The rose gold ring was in his hand. He could almost hear his grandmother lecturing him. Why have you left it so long? Why couldn’t you just tell her the truth straight out and find out what kind of girl she was? Why have you let yourself get tied up in knots like this?

  He pushed the ring back into the blue velvet box. Even the box mocked him. It was the same color as the fitted coat Emma had been wearing yesterday with her black boots.

  A train rumbled past his house and shook his Christmas tree at the front window. One of the glass ornaments dangled dangerously close to the edge of its branch and tumbled to the floor, smashing to smithereens.

  That was it. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait any longer.

  He had to tell the woman he loved that he’d screwed things up.

  He had to find out if he was enough.

  *

  Emma was working at The Graff. It was a special kind of afternoon tea and they’d needed a waitress for this afternoon. It had actually been kind of fun. There were twelve women, all laughing and joking, ranging in age from around four to around eighty-four. As the afternoon had progressed and the sun had dipped in the sky, the tea had mysteriously changed into wine. The eldest lady had declared she would drink nothing other than Kir Royales and the barman had been kept busy.

  The two younger kids had tired of the chatter and spent the late afternoon skipping around the large Christmas tree in the foyer and running up and down the stairs.

  Every now and then, she would sneak out to cast a watchful eye on them and come back to refill the plates and glasses of the women inside.

  She’d hardly had time to think about things.

  She’d hardly had time to think about the fact there were no texts on her phone. No missed calls.

  The lovely town of Marietta had lost a little of its shine.

  Chris was on duty at The Graff today, too. The queue for Santa’s Grotto seemed to reproduce at an alarming rate. But all the kids left happy, clutching a present in one hand and a photo of them, on Santa’s lap, in the other.

  “Why don’t you join us for a glass of wine?” piped up one of the ladies. “You’re new in town, aren’t you? And your shift must be just about finished?”

  Emma bent to pick the pile of plates from the table. “That’s lovely, but no thanks. This is a family thing.”

  The old matriarch gripped her wrist. The plates wobbled. For someone who looked as if they’d blow over in a puff of wind, she had an iron like grip.

  “But we’re all family in Marietta. And it sounds like yours is too far away to visit. Sit down, lovely. Tell us how you ended up here in your wedding dress.”

  Heat rushed into her cheeks. She should have guessed. Since she was the only Scots girl in town, they would quickly tie her to that story.

  The rest of the heads turned around quickly.

  “That was you?”

  “Of course, that was her.”

  One woman patted the chaise lounge she was sitting on. “Oh, please sit down. Do tell?”

  Emma smiled quickly and tried to hurry away. She didn’t want to be anyone else’s source of entertainment. No matter how interesting the story sounded.

  “She left her groom at the altar because she’s the bravest, gutsiest woman I know.”

  Her hands jerked and the plates shattered on the floor.

  Twelve faces stared open-mouthed at her.

  Her hand rushed up to her face. “Mitch?”

  He was standing at the doorway, his face pale and his jacket unfastened, snow glistening in his hair and on his shoulders.

  There was something weird about him. Even from here, she could see that he was trembling.

  He took a tentative step forward. “She’s a lot braver than me.”

  It was like a tennis match. The twelve heads batted first one way, then the other.

  When Emma didn’t speak, one of the other women piped up. “Why?”

  “Because when I found out I couldn’t have kids, I didn’t tell anyone. I just dated, and as soon as anyone seemed serious, I just cooled things off. I wasn’t as brave as Emma.”

  Eyes widened. He knew most of the women sitting around that table. He’d dated at least a few of their friends. It was as good as putting up a mile-high poster in town.

  “What?” Emma’s voice was barely a whisper.

  A face stuck out from the swinging kitchen door. Elliot, the chef, stared at the smashed plates on the floor that no one had moved to clear. “What on—”

  “Quiet!” Twelve voices shouted at once and Elliot raised his eyebrows then ducked his head back into the kitchen.

  Emma hadn’t moved. She couldn’t move.

  None of this seemed quite real.

  But Mitch was definitely there. He was definitely standing in front of her. His face wracked with worry.