Page 1 of You Make It Feel like Christmas

S HE’D ST OPPED BELIEVING IN Santa Claus by the age of seven, but Maisie Smart would absolutely never be too old for the magic of Christmas.

If, however, she one day suffered a crisis of holiday spirit, she’d just get herself back to the adorably festive town she was currently driving through.

Merry, Washington, just a couple of hours outside of her hometown of Seattle, was what every kid—and she—imagined the North Pole to be. Complete with elves.

A line of little kids, one behind the other, wearing candy cane–striped pinnies over their winter jackets and warm hats, waited at a crosswalk.

The main street was lined with adorable storefronts showcasing elaborate holiday displays in every window.

Maisie’s stomach growled at the same time a parking spot opened up, coincidentally, in front of a store called Karma.

Conveniently, the store to the right of that one promised the best hot chocolate and cookies in Washington.

Cutting the ignition, she grabbed her purse then braced herself against the door, lifted the handle, and shoved.

It got a little sticky in the cold weather but Junie, short for Juniper, wasn’t just her Jeep; it was her baby.

She’d bought it, secondhand, with the first big check she’d received for her photography work on a film set.

It wasn’t until she closed the Jeep door that the holiday music registered.

She didn’t see any speakers, which just made it more magical.

Each of the dark lampposts boasted seasonal decorations that would light up when the sun went down.

Bell, sleigh, mistletoe, candy cane, angel, repeat, as far as she could see down both sides of the street.

One week until Christmas and Maisie felt like those little kids waving at her as they marched by: full of hope and ready for the magic of the season.

She was spending Christmas with her family for the first time in several years.

They were staying at an actual tree farm, and she’d just—like on her way out of town—signed a contract to be the artist in residence at the University of Washington from January to April with a possible extension.

It was huge. Six months ago, she wasn’t even sure if she should or would apply.

Despite being raised in a home that valued education above all else, it wasn’t Maisie’s strong suit, something she’d never been able to explain to her mom.

Now, she was going to be sort-of staff at an accredited school.

Nerves simmered in her stomach the way they did whenever she thought about this new path. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, removed one glove with her teeth, and typed out a text to her bestie.

Maisie

This town is utterly adorable. I’m so excited.

Lexi

I looked it up online. Apparently in the summer, it’s “udderly” adorable thanks to the cow pageant. Send pictures.

Maisie sent a bunch of happy face and Christmas tree emojis then took a quick video. Her best friend, Lexi, was probably blissfully cocooned in her fiancé’s arms. A little pang poked her in the ribs. Longing. It was no secret that the holidays were sweeter when shared.

The phone rang almost immediately, Lexi’s face lit up the screen, and her friend started speaking before Maisie even had her phone all the way to her ear.

“Are you sure this place isn’t actually the North Pole? Have you seen Santa? Did you sit on his lap?”

Maisie laughed loud enough to draw a few curious stares. “There’ll be no lap sitting, thank you very much. I’m done believing wishes come true when you whisper what you want in a man’s ear.”

“One of these days you’re going to tell me who turned you against relationships. For yourself. Because you were all the way onboard for me being in one,” Lexi said.

An image of Nicholas King, well over six feet, dirty blond hair just a little long so it fell in his eyes, and the kind of muscles that made coherent words fall out of her brain, popped into her mind unbidden.

Unwanted. Kind of like she’d felt when she woke up alone in a hotel room after the best night of her life.

“We were talking about sitting on Santa. Specifically, his lap. Which, when you really take a moment to dissect the tradition, is kind of creepy. ‘Here, strange man. Let my child sit on you.’”

Lexi’s laughter was soft and comforting. Maisie got the pleasure of hearing it a lot more often now that her friend had given herself over to falling in love. The real kind that lasted forever and maybe longer. The kind that eluded Maisie.

“Way to deflect and redirect. If photography doesn’t work out, you could always try being a lawyer.”

Wouldn’t that make her parents happy. “No thanks. Jacob already has that covered.” Her older brother was one of the most respected entertainment lawyers on the East Coast. Both her siblings had excelled in school and in life.

They, unlike Maisie, were proud recipients of many scholarships, degrees, and educational accolades.

On top of that, they were both settled in loving and committed relationships.

“You okay?” Lexi asked.

Maisie nodded, even though her friend couldn’t see her.

“I’m great. I’m in Santa’s village, about to have hot chocolate and cookies before going to a tree farm chalet to spend a week reconnecting with my family.

I’m going to go sledding, cut down a tree, and do every Christmasy thing this town has to offer. ”

Her parents might not be into all of the activities, but she was fairly certain she could convince the rest of her family to take part.

Growing up, Maisie had sometimes felt a bit like an outcast in her own family, so doing things she enjoyed on her own wasn’t new territory.

The dreamer in a house of hardcore academics.

“You’re going to have a great time,” Lexi said. “Oh, Will just got home. Send me videos of the tree farm or FaceTime me later.”

“I will.” Maisie hung up, wondering, not for the first time, if she should have confided in her bestie rather than keeping her feelings wrapped tighter than a present.

But she didn’t want to be a rain cloud on Lexi’s rainbow.

She and her fiancé, Will, had only just found each other.

Maisie didn’t need to dish about a man who’d ghosted her.

Even if the very detailed memory of him still haunted her six months later.

It’s just the holidays. They make people more hopeful and nostalgic.

Maisie was all about looking forward. Starting now.

After grabbing a box of holiday treats at the adorably decorated bakery Bits and Bites, Maisie jumped back in her Jeep and headed toward the tree farm.

As the bustling core of the tiny town gave way to quieter roads and wide-open parcels of land, Maisie’s fingers itched for her camera.

Snow spread out like blankets at the foot of the mountains, untouched and sparkling.

It sent that familiar tingle through Maisie’s veins.

Her parents never understood her love of photography.

They’d thought it was a hobby, something she’d outgrow.

But every time she got that feeling, the one that made her want to see life through a viewfinder and capture it, she knew she’d made the right choice.

She’d done some fashion photography in her early days and worked on multiple sets in Hollywood before striking out on her own.

Now, Maisie’s business was steady, satisfying, and local to the Seattle area.

She wasn’t rich. But she was happy. Her parents, Mom in particular, didn’t know why she couldn’t be both of those things and have a couple prestigious letters behind her name.

Recognition in her world didn’t necessarily come from schooling though.

Maisie was still deciding whether or not she wanted to throw her name into the ring at a small Seattle gallery that had put out an open call to artists.

One thing at a time. Pushing herself to be brave by applying to the university had unleashed her desire to prove to her parents that education wasn’t the only path to success.

But she didn’t want to do something just for that reason.

She loved her work. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the kind of vulnerability that showcased her work to a large, opinionated audience.

Her thoughts scattered like brilliant fireworks when she saw the sign for Tickle Tree Farms. Giddiness invaded her body and she couldn’t stop herself from doing a little bounce in her driver’s seat.

The long gravel driveway was lined on both sides with a wooden fence wrapped in strands of the big-bulbed lights Maisie loved.

The rainbow of colors danced softly in the late afternoon light.

Tall, thick trees dotted the fence lines and were also decorated with lights, but these ones were smaller and white.

It was magical and she couldn’t wait to see it in the dark.

At the end of the lane, there was the cutest Alice in Wonderland–type sign pointing to the different areas of the massive grounds.

She stopped the Jeep and snapped a photo with her phone to send to Lexi.

In cute, curly lettering, an arrow pointing up read: N ORTH P OLE .

An arrow to the right, printed in a different cutesy font, said U - C HOP and below that, another arrow to the right said P RE-CUT .

Two arrows pointed to the left; one read B ARN and the other read M AIN H OUSE .

Maisie put her phone down and took a left.

A gorgeous two-story, pale-green farmhouse with a wraparound porch and dormer windows came into view.

As if that wasn’t picture-perfect enough, there was a little boy dressed in winter gear, running back and forth over a short stretch of the front yard.

She was already smiling when she put the Jeep in park and got out with just her shoulder bag, but when she saw what the little guy was doing, she laughed.

He bent, made a snowball, threw it, then ran forward to where it landed, made another snowball, and threw it back. He saw her and gave her a big grin and a wave.

“I’m having a snowball fight with myself,” he said, huffing with his exertion, his boots dragging more than lifting.

“Who’s winning?” Maisie asked as the bright-yellow front door to the house opened.

A tall woman with long, flowing blond waves spilling out of her knit cap, holding a travel mug and wearing a long plaid jacket and an enviable pair of black boots, waved at Maisie.

“You’re Maisie! Colton’s been texting me pictures of everyone,” she said, coming down the few steps off the porch. “I’m Ellie.”

“I am. I’m so happy to meet you and to be spending the holidays here. I love it already.”

Excitement bubbled up with the other woman’s happy greeting. Even more when she leaned in for a hug. “Sorry, I feel like I already know you.” Ellie stepped back from the hug, looked over at her son. “Asher, come meet Uncle Colt’s sister-in-law.”

The little boy, who looked about four or five, came over with one snowball in hand.

Tipping his head back, Maisie saw that he had eyes the same color as his mom’s, which, for some reason, felt familiar.

Maybe the warmth in them. His hair was light brown and sticking to his forehead.

Ellie swiped a hand across it with a laugh.

“Are you a police officer?” Asher asked.

Maisie laughed. “No, why?”

“You’re in law.” Asher shrugged as if that explained it all.

Both Ellie and Maisie laughed but Ellie crouched down. “No, sweet pea. ‘In law’ means that Uncle Colt is married to Maisie’s brother, Jacob. We’ve talked to him on FaceTime.”

Asher nodded, looked back at Maisie. “My mom’s not married to my dad anymore.”

Ellie groaned and stood up, giving Maisie a sheepish grin. “Don’t tell him any secrets if you don’t want everyone to know.”

Maisie bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Want to have a snowball fight?” Asher asked both women.

“I think our guest might like to get settled, mister. Which means we should help her with her bags, don’t you think?”

It tugged at Maisie’s heartstrings when his little smile slipped. She gestured to her Jeep. “I can handle my bags but maybe you could carry the Christmas cookies I brought?”

Just like that, his eyes widened, the grin returned, and he went running to the Jeep.

Ellie nodded, brows raised. “Well done. Excellent diversion. Do you work with kids?”

They walked toward her vehicle. “I’m a photographer. So sometimes. Speaking of, this place is breathtakingly gorgeous. I’m definitely going to have to take some shots.”

While Asher took the cookies inside, promising not to have one until they were all inside and settled, Maisie unloaded the back of her Jeep, taking her small suitcase and camera bag. Ellie carried the closed box of presents Maisie still needed to wrap.

“I bought this place in the spring. This is my first official season of tree selling. I’d love to get some updated photos for the website,” Ellie said as they made their way up the steps. She stopped at the open door. “I’d pay you, of course.”

Those tingles worked their way along her skin. “No way. The chance to photograph this place? You, your adorable kid, and all the Christmas goodness? Consider it a gift and a thank-you for letting us stay.”

Maisie heard Ellie’s protests but her attention immediately shifted as they stepped into the high-ceilinged entryway. The scent of fresh pine welcomed them into the house. A tree not much taller than Maisie was decorated with what looked like homemade ornaments.

The mat she wiped her feet on read: Santa stop here . Maisie shook her head, met her host’s gaze. “Stop saying you’ll pay. You’re letting me and my whole family stay. I’m taking photos. I can’t wait.”

Ellie laughed. “Colton is basically family to me and my brother so it’s hardly an imposition to have you with us over Christmas. Plus, I’m looking forward to having a full house.”

Maisie slipped off her boots. “Well, Colton is my family and if he’s yours too, it means we’re family. Which means, photos are on me.”

Asher came running back into the room, his boots squelching. Ellie winced. “Ash. You’re supposed to take your boots off.”

His shoulders drooped. “But I’m going back out after cookies.”

“Boots,” Ellie said.

Once again, Maisie bit her lip. Oh yeah. She was all about looking forward; to this week, this Christmas, the activities, the people, and the moments she’d capture with her camera. This was going to be the best Christmas ever.