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“There’s a bunch of New Year’s decorations somewhere,” Hannah said. “Mr. Matthews, can you help me find them?”

“I can do that.” He popped up from his seat.

“Call me if the apocalypse is coming for Carrigan’s, again,” Elijah said, bussing their cheeks goodbye. Hannah shuttled him out the door, with a gift bag of cookies and a promise not to interrupt his holiday with their business any further, at least until New Year’s Eve.

Miriam looked across the almost empty kitchen at Noelle, furious and hopeful, grateful and sad all at once. More than anything, however, she felt ready. Ready to be done living a life defined by her fear.

She’d spent the last ten years in an emotional stasis. Now that she was back at Carrigan’s, facing down her father, and surrounded by the art of her deepest heart, she was ready to fight instead of fly.

Freaking out at Noelle, getting ready to leave…this was why Tara and Cole had never told her about the trauma that had changed the course of their lives. Why Hannah and Blue had a desperate love story they’d kept a secret from her. No one in her life trusted her to support them when emotions got hard, and she was done.

She was ready to be planted.

“Thank you,” Miriam said to Noelle. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”

Noelle stared back, no light behind her dark brown eyes. “I’m not doing this for you, or us. I’m doing this for Carrigan’s. There is no us.”

Chapter 21

Noelle

What are you talking about?” Miriam protested. “I’m staying, I’m fighting. Like you wanted. I gave up everything in my life, to be here with you.”

Noelle stood up, rocking back on her heels and crossing her arms, trying to get some protection from Miriam and those big, sad eyes. She needed to make it clear, to Miriam and to her own heart, that they weren’t going to be together. She needed to draw the line painfully enough that they would both walk away.

“All I asked of you was to not run, Miri. You couldn’t even do that. You asked for a chance, I gave it to you, you ran. It’s over. You can stay for Hannah, or the Matthewses, or Cass’s memory, but don’t stay for me.”

“I’m staying because this is what I want for my life,” Miriam cried. “I’m in love with you!”

“If you loved me, why didn’t you trust me to fix it? Why, when the shit hit the fan, was your first impulse you and not us? That’s not love, and I can’t live waiting for the next time it happens. I can’t do this, Miri. I mean it, I physically can’t. I’m hanging by the tiniest thread. I can’t live waiting to lose you.”

Miriam’s fallen face made every instinct in her body want to protect her and hold her, but she knew she couldn’t. So she lied. “You don’t love me, and more importantly, I don’t love you. I might have, but now I never will. I’m glad I realized now, before it was too late, that you’ll never be trustworthy.”

“You’re a liar, Northwood!” Miriam accused her, standing up out of the booth, her hands planted on the table. “Who’s the coward now? You say you try to be perfect so no one will leave you, but you expect everyone else to be perfect, too. And when they mess up, you take it as proof, so you have an easy out and you can leave them first. Which, PS, you accused me of something pretty horrific, so I’m not the only one who messed up here, Miss Self-Righteous. It’s a fucked-up self-fulfilling cycle—people always leave you because you can’t let them make mistakes!”

Noelle whirled on Miriam, her conscious pricked, some part of her worried that Miriam was right. “That’s bullshit. Cass wasn’t perfect, and I knew it. She was petty, and capricious, and self-centered. I loved all of her. Hannah’s controlling and short-tempered and she can be a real asshole.”

“Yes, but those are the things youlikeabout them. You can pat yourself on the back for loving people as they are because none of those flaws threaten your security. They’re just seasoning!” Miriam banged her palms on the table, her hair flying and her eyes sparking. She looked electric and beautiful, and the sight broke Noelle’s heart. “I react to one really fucked-up situation in a way you don’t like, and it’s all over. I’m not your parents, Noelle!”

She might not have been able to protect herself from the pain of her parents not showing up for her over and over, but she’d been a kid then. Now, as an adult, Noelle could damn well choose the people she loved, people who wouldn’t put her through that same hell again.

“This isn’t about me, Miriam. Don’t try to make this my fault. And leave my parents out of it.”

She couldn’t stay here and have all the most vulnerable parts of her stripped bare for examination. She stomped out of the room.

But this time Miri didn’t follow her.

The week between Christmas and New Year’s, traditionally the perfect slice of liminal space out of time, was frenetic with constant movement, the inn a perpetual motion engine.

Mrs. Matthews was cooking tiny puff pastry shells so fast, Noelle thought there might be witchcraft involved. Mr. Matthews was making sure no part of the farm was in need of repair, no project left undone. Joshua and Esther Matthews had been tapped by their parents to aid in the rescue effort. Esther had sent Rocket the Boyfriend back to the city, after the third or fourth time he whined about being asked to do work.

Joshua’s wife, Lydia, had worked for a party planner through grad school and was helping Hannah by getting permits and making playlists. Joshua was on kid-wrangling duty, making sure Grant and all the guests’ children were happily occupied, far away from the hub of activity.

The great room had been transformed into command central.

Miriam was livestreaming every day to build up momentum, and the grand fireplace—complete with the Nutcracker Steves—had become her backdrop. Noelle couldn’t stop watching her, no matter how many times she told herself to walk away, to start breaking this spell between them for good.

“Hello, Bloomers!” Miriam began, three days before the auction, her smile not quite her own. “I’m so excited to see so many of you on the stream tonight! A quick recap for everyone who’s just tuning in to this project: My beloved great-aunt left her extremely cool Christmas tree farm to myself, my cousin, and two other amazing friends. We’re so excited about all the art, music, and family time we are going to host here in the years to come, not to mention Bloom Togethers! But a developer is trying to buy the farm out from under us to turn it into luxury cabins. Damn the Man! Save the Carrigan’s!”