After throwing on jeans and a sweater, I grabbed my coat off the rack and pulled on my boots without bothering to zip them. I dashed out into the cold morning air, slowing down only to step around icy patches on the driveway.

My car’s engine whined as I turned the key in the ignition. Blowing on my bare hands to warm them with my breath, I waited impatiently for the fan to clear the frost off the windshield before backing out of the driveway.

By the time I turned onto Main Street, the sun had emerged to cast orange streaks above the roofs of the deserted shops. With my pulse hammering, my fingers numbing in the cold even as they trembled, I turned again at the corner of Kings Road and let my memory guide me to the pale yellow clapboard house at the end of the street.

I parked by the curb and strode purposefully up the driveway to the front door. After pressing the doorbell, I waited on the step with my heart in my throat, my half-frozen hands curled in my pockets, my breath billowing from my lips in quick bursts. Struggling to calm myself, I fixed my gaze on the tiny bells and pinecones tied to the holly wreath that hung from the door.

The wait felt like ages, while in reality only seconds passed before the door swung open and Mitch gazed out at me.

“Did I wake you?” I asked, noting his navy blue robe wrapped over gray pinstripe pajamas.

He shook his head. “We’re having breakfast. I saw you through the window. What brings you here so early, Carly?”

Not answering him at first, I studied the hues of amber and gold in his warm tawny brown eyes that gleamed in the morning light. My heart and soul yearned to him—the boy I’d loved so long ago and the man I adored now. I drew a long breath and let my fear fall away from me, as readily as I might shed my coat when coming in from the cold.

“A crazy impulse,” I said at last, the lightness in my heart tugging my lips upward. “I couldn’t wait to tell you this. It’s been ridiculously easy for me to fall in love with you again, too. And I don’t need any more time to figure out what I want either.” I reached for his hand. “I will marry you, Mitch. If you haven’t changed your mind.”

His expression shifted from curiosity to disbelief that melded into elation. He pulled me inside and shut to door before gathering me in his arms. “Of course I haven’t. I’ve been holding my breath waiting for you to make up your mind.”

“My mind’s made up. I’m yours.”

Resting his forehead against mine, Mitch lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Your hand is so cold,” he said, and clasped it between his palms.

“It’s okay, I can’t really feel my fingers anymore,” I replied, the love in his eyes warming me from head to toe. “All I feel right now is happy.”

---

December, a year later

---

My cell phone jangled on the coffee table while I was rooting through the storage bins in the top of the entry hall closet.

“Can you get that?” I asked Mitch over my shoulder.

“I’ve got my boots on and they’re wet,” he answered from the doorway. “Let it go to voicemail. We need to get a move on.”

“Just a sec.” Tossing the handful of mitts and scarves I’d gathered back into the bin, I hurried to the living room to grab the phone. My mother’s picture filled the screen. I tapped the answer icon.

“Hi, Mom,” I said cheerfully, throwing Mitch an apologetic smile. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to talk to you and find out how my sweet piccolina is doing today,” she said.

I glanced at five-month-old Rosie, bundled in her Piglet snowsuit and tucked securely in Mitch’s arms. Her dark blue gaze followed me as I paced back to the closet to continue my search for her favourite pink bunny-ears hat.

“Rosie’s great. We’re just on our way out to a tree farm to get our tree.”

“Are you cutting down a tree yourselves?” Mom wondered.

“Yeah. There’s a place just outside the city that has a Santa’s village for kids and live reindeer. Should be fun.” Cradling the phone between my cheek and shoulder, I reached up to sift through the second bin. Rather than the small hat I’d been looking for, I discovered a larger black knitted toque with ear flaps that I’d never seen before. When we moved into the house in April, Mitch and I had tossed all our winter gear into the closet bins and hadn’t found the time to organize it.

“I’ll miss you so much at Christmas dinner this year, bambina,” my mother told me glumly.

“We’ll miss you too. But you’ll be here for New Year’s. You’re bringing Ed, right?”

Her tone brightened. “Yes. We both want a tour of Yours Truly Flowers.”

“Mom, I’m not opening for a few weeks. The shop’s not anywhere near ready.” Beginning to overheat in my heavy coat, I tucked the toque under my armpit and checked the summer accessories bin, pushing aside sunhats and gardening gloves.

“I want to see it anyhow,” Mom pressed. “I’m so excited for you. I’ve been telling all my clients at the salon to spread the word to their friends in Kitchener that my daughter has the best flower shop in town.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you soon. Say hi to Ed for me.”

I was about to say goodbye when she added, “Don’t forget hats and scarves if you’re going out into the bush.”

“Yes, of course. We don’t need to catch pneumonia just before Christmas,” I replied dryly. “Love you, Mom. Bye.”

I ended the call just as I spotted the soft knitted bunny hat I’d been looking for, wedged behind one of the bins. Slipping my phone into my coat pocket, I pulled out the hat and grabbed one for myself.

“How’s your mom?” Mitch asked.

“Manic as ever,” I said with a wry smile. After fitting the pink hat over Rosie’s short crop of dark hair, I handed Mitch the black toque. “This is yours?”

He eyed it dubiously. “It was a gift from Grandma Elsie. I never wear it. I’m not really a hat person.”

“Your ears could get frostbite on a day like this. And don’t you want to set a good example for Rosie?” I tugged my own hat over my ears. “Indulge me. It’s a mom thing.” A thing I understood now and embraced without apology.

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at me. “You’re a good mom and a persuasive wife,” he muttered, while using his free hand to slide the hat onto his head.

I had to bite back a grin. The tasseled ear flaps dangling by his shoulders looked too much like the floppy bunny ears drooping from the sides of Rosie’s hat.

As I bent to zip my boots, Mitch said, “It’s been nearly a year now, you know.”

“Since what?”

“Since you said I might look back on proposing to you and realize it was the worst rash decision I ever made.”

Straightening, I studied his deadpan expression. “And?”

“Absolute best rash decision I ever made.” Shifting the baby to his hip, Mitch pulled me against his side and brushed his mouth over mine. Keeping our faces close, he held my gaze, the look in his eyes both sultry and tender in a way that roused my body and touched my soul. “I love you, Carly. I love our life together.”

“And I love you.” I kissed him again softly, aware of our daughter wriggling and gabbling between us.

I bent to drop a gentle kiss on her plump pink cheek. Rosie giggled and gummed my knuckle, and I kissed her delicate little fingers, marveling at how precious and perfect she was.

“And you too, my bambina.”

---