Thinking I see the man I was supposed to marry five years ago is nothing out of the ordinary for me. I see Nick’s face in just about every twenty-something man I meet. And every time, it sends my heart aflutter. Nick was perfect for me in every way but one. He didn’t want children. I tried to tell myself I could get past that. At twenty-three, I wasn’t ready for children yet anyway, but as I stood in my wedding gown, facing the doors to the chapel, I couldn’t bring myself to envision a future without kids of my own. So I turned around, wrote Nick a Dear John letter, and walked out on the love of my life.

The man I’ve been staring at—one of the fathers, who only slightly resembles Nick—shoves his hands in his pockets and turns away.

“Holly?” a small voice says as a tiny hand tugs on my dress.

I glance down at Erica, the cutest six-year-old I’ve ever laid eyes on and my favorite—though I’d never admit that aloud—child at the children’s community center I run in Sapphire Springs. I bend down so I’m eye level with her. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Is Santa coming this year?” Erica’s eyes are full of hope, probably because her parents can’t afford to buy her Christmas presents. “I’ve been extra good this year.”

I brush her strawberry-blonde locks behind her left ear. “Yes, Erica. Santa will be here, and I’m sure he’ll have something extra special for you in his bag of presents.”

Her face lights up, and she throws her arms around me.

Her mother stands behind her with tears in her eyes, so I reach my hand out to squeeze hers. “Thank you,” she mouths.

The Sapphire Springs Children’s Community Center has become my world. I love each and every one of these children and their parents, who try so hard to provide with the little they have. I smile at Erica’s mom before releasing her hand.

“Erica, why don’t you go see April? She’s setting up the table to make gingerbread houses,” I say once Erica finally lets go of my neck.

“Can we eat the candy, too?” Erica asks.

“Sure, but save some for the houses, okay?” I wink at her before she runs off to find April, my best friend and cofounder of the children’s community center. She’s like the sister I never had. We met in college, and I was able to convince her to move home to Sapphire Springs with me to open this place. She’s the only person I know who loves children as much as I do.

“Holly?” Lemar calls from his office situated along the back wall next to my corner office. He waves me over, phone in hand.

“Excuse me,” I say to Erica’s mother, who is still looking at me like I’m Mrs. Claus.

She nods and walks over to meet Erica at the gingerbread craft table.

I take a few long, steady strides to Lemar’s office, but the look of panic on his face isn’t doing anything to reassure me that the call isn’t going to be catastrophic.

He places his hand over the receiver and says, “Our Santa Claus canceled. He has the flu.”

My stomach sinks. The Christmas party is one day away. How am I supposed to find a new Santa before then? My mind goes into hyper drive. “Okay, tell him to get well soon. Then start calling around for anyone willing to help us out.” I look him up and down. “Otherwise, you’re going to have to get in that Santa suit yourself.”

Lemar’s eyes widen in horror. “These kids know me. I’d never pull it off. Besides”—he lowers his voice and looks out at the room full of kids—“I’m pretty sure most of these kids are operating under the assumption that Santa Claus is Caucasian, not African American.”

“Start making calls then,” I say, rushing off to my office. My heels click against the floor, a steady tick tock that’s reminding me of how little time I have until Christmas Eve. I head to my desk and grab the phone, dialing the local costume shop. Worse case scenario, the kids will have a visit from Mrs. Claus. How I’ll disguise myself, I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll tell them I’m really Mrs. Claus’s twin sister and swear them to secrecy.

“Costumes for All Occasions,” the woman answers.

“Tell me you have a Mrs. Claus costume for rent,” I blurt out.

“One left in stock. We’re all out of Santa suits, though.”

“No problem. I have a Santa suit. Put the Mrs. Claus costume on hold for Holly Michaels, please. I’ll be right over to pick it up.”

“If you want me to place it on hold, I’ll need your credit card information for the deposit,” the woman says.

I reach for my purse on my desk and remove my wallet. After rattling off my credit card information, I hang up and grab my coat.

“Going somewhere?” April asks me as I pass by the craft table.

“Trying to avert a crisis. Can you hold down the fort for about twenty minutes?”

She nods. “Just prepare yourself for the noise volume to be through the roof when you return. The kids are eating more candy than they’re decorating the houses with.”

Erica pops a gumdrop into her mouth and smiles at me. Her teeth are blue and red from icing.

“Okay, boys and girls, eating time is over,” I say. “We want to make sure these gingerbread houses are all decorated. In fact, the best decorated house is going to get a prize.”

“What kind of prize?” Jake, a seven-year-old Erica has a crush on, asks.

“If you want to find out, you better get decorating,” I tell him.

The kids all start grabbing for candy, but now they’re using it on their houses.

“Thanks,” April says. “You’re so good with them.”

“Holly,” Lemar calls from his office doorway.

What now? “I’m never going to get out of here,” I say with a sigh as I turn back to him. But before I can respond, I spot a man walking in the front door. At first, I assume my mind is playing tricks on me. No way is Nick Masters really here. He has no reason to be.

But his eyes lock on me, and his voice is undeniable. “Holly Michaels, you’re as beautiful as ever.”

My knees get weak, and April grabs for me before I fall. “Is that...?”

Nick. My Nick.