After a shower and a couple of hours spent working on her new song, Noelle decided the snow had melted enough to go into town.

She tossed her purse over her shoulder, then grabbed her car keys, sending a silent thanks to Hank, the local mechanic, for dropping her car off sometime during the early morning hours.

Her mom had been wrong about her car. As long as the streets were plowed and she didn’t run into any black ice, she’d be good. Besides a short frame and awesome gas mileage, her little go-go car got her places in most driving conditions—most being the operative word.

“You two behave.” The sleeping cat and dog duo, still snuggled in a tight ball of warmth, looked blissfully happy. The pang of jealousy pricked her heart, and she sighed. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The bone-chilling house gave her the creeps. The inside temperature was fine, but the rooms lacked warmth or personality. Why, she didn’t know. The doctor was kind and caring, but he surrounded himself with cold colors, devoid of warmth or personality.

On her way to the car she rubbed and blew warmth into her cupped hands to get the blood circulating. Looking back from her car, she noticed the two-bedroom cabin looked like a gingerbread house, all nestled in a grove of trees with snow on the roof. Perfect in every way on the outside, but missing the sugary goodness on the inside.

Ethan was being a gentleman, saying all the right things, and giving her a place to stay, but then why was it she felt as welcome as a fly at a barbecue? Then again, she didn’t need to be overly concerned. The situation was temporary. If she could just earn enough for the gas to LA, she’d be heading out of town shortly, and on her way to bigger and better things.

She understood why her mom wouldn’t let her sleep on the floor of the rental cabin. The rentals by the creek were about the size of a delivery truck, and small for one person, much less two plus a cat who liked to cuddle. Her mom could only stand cats if they weren’t nearby. Knowing Cheddar, he’d most likely sleep on her mom’s pillow. Plus, the single wood stove never kept the tiny cabin warm.

However, Noelle didn’t need to bother with a heater. The image of the hunky male standing in the kitchen with his messed-up hair and unshaven face was enough to keep her internal heater going for a while. Her mom said Ethan’s was her best option—and she believed her—plus, she felt obligated to stay. Everyone needed a little Christmas to nourish their soul, and she loved this time of year. She could contribute Christmas fun at least. Besides, he’d be at work most of the day, and she’d be looking for a job. They would hardly see each other.

She pulled into the River Creek Café parking lot and made a mental note to stop by Hank’s to say thanks for dropping off her car, just after she figured out a way to wheedle health information out of her mom.

While she was brushing the snow off her boots on the welcome mat, a shrill squeal of delight greeted her, and Noelle looked up to be greeted by neon pink hair and a giant grin. “Maggie told me you were in town. I didn’t believe it,” Sheila bubbled, darting across the restaurant like her apron strings had caught on fire.

When Sheila’s long arms wrapped around her shoulders, Noelle held on for a moment, soaking up the soothing warmth.

“Girl, I’ve missed you. Are you home to stay?” Sheila Gill asked, adding an extra giant squeeze.

A surge of contentment circled and tightened. She missed her friends, but she had to keep reminding herself she still had things she wanted to do. “I’ve missed you too, but I’m not ready to settle quite yet. I’m home for a visit.” Noelle glanced around the café, returning smiles to familiar faces.

Snowflakes hung from the ceiling. Candy canes were stuffed in a jar at the reception counter. Sure enough, the Christmas tree of hope stood in its usual spot with donated, wrapped toys for kids in the area piled underneath. Wistful regret swirled in her chest. If she hadn’t trusted Jon, her bank account wouldn’t be bleeding out because of overdraft fees, and she could contribute, too.

Maybe she could talk her mom into letting her make some playdough. A few jars filled with fun colors and a set of old cookie cutters should make some kids happy.

Noelle slid her hands down her friend's arms. “How’s your daughter?”

“Fine. Fine.” Sheila tapped her knuckles on the nearest table. “So far so good. The last round of chemo seemed to work. Your mamma’s been so good to me, giving me time off to run back and forth to the hospital in Denver. Now we just need to find a way to pay those medical bills. They sure have stacked up to be a heaping load. Your mom’s planning a fund-raiser, bless her heart.”

“That’s my mom for you.” The positive notes in her voice didn’t match the negative doubts circling inside. Noelle always felt like a disappointment. Her mother never had agreed with her choices. On good days, she’d been strong enough to lie to herself that she didn’t care. On the days when she’d failed another audition, the words bit deep. “Where is my mom, anyway?”

“She’s in the back. Jenna came over to chat about next week’s bakery order.”

“Came over? That’s right. Jenna bought the old pizza restaurant across the street.”

“And you should see the place. She has a whole new line of sweet breads and baked treats. You wouldn’t recognize it, except for that humongous oven.” Sheila nudged her arm. “She named that old thing Fred. Sorta fits, doncha think? Plus, she put up all sorts of artwork. You wouldn’t recognize the place. A lick of paint sure makes a difference.”

“I’ll stop by, for sure. Besides, I have to get one of her pecan rolls while I’m here. I’ve never had one better.”

The smell of Applewood-smoked bacon, hand-cut potatoes, and farm fresh eggs permeated the air and cuddled around her with the sense of home.

Not much had changed in the years she’d been gone, other than the color of the booths and chairs. The chatter from the locals interspersed throughout the café buzzed like bees around a patch of wildflowers. For a weekday, the café was rather empty. When it snowed, most skiers and snowmobilers avoided the smaller mountain roads, opting to use the wider interstates. Even her mother’s famous plate-sized hamburgers didn’t tempt them into town.

“I’d better let you get back to work.” Noelle took a step back. “Mrs. Bainbridge’s arm must be getting a bit tired waving at you to get your attention.”

Sheila glanced over her shoulder. “I bet I didn’t warm up her pie enough. I’d better check. I’ll see you for Christmas?”

“I’ll be here.”

Sheila weaved through the tables like a car swerving around pylons. Noelle pulled off her hand-knit scarf and looped it over her coat before crossing the restaurant to push open the heavy steel door to the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom. Jenna.”

“You win.” Jenna looked at Maggie. “She and the cute doctor didn’t do the bump and rub. I would have bet a whole sheet of magic bars she would have turned his head. I guess he’s still not ready.”

Irritation over being the topic of conversation sent a prickle up her spine. “Ready for what?”

“Ready to start dating again. I figured three years was enough.”

“Three years? What are you talking about?”

Jenna looked at Maggie. “Oops. I think I’m turning into a town gossip. How disgusting is that?”

“Totally disgusting.” Noelle grabbed the edge of the prep station counter. “But don’t stop now. Do tell.”

Maggie tossed Jenna an annoyed look. “You can’t back out now you’ve stepped in it.”

Jenna pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “It seems the good doctor still has a broken heart.”

“He needs surgery?” Noelle looked first to Jenna, then Maggie, for an explanation.

“No. He’s scrumptiously fit. However, when you lose your wife and child in a car accident, it seems nothing will mend your heart.”

So that’s why his place looks like it hasn’t been lived in. Ethan isn’t living.

“Wow, I had no idea. You say it was a car accident?”

Jenna nodded. “Sad, isn’t it?”

“I bet that’s why he was so insistent I get off the highway.”

“Most likely.”

“I can’t imagine losing someone you love. Two someones must be a gazillion times worse.”

“Trust me. It’s not easy.” Maggie brushed her hands down her apron, then started waggling her finger at Noelle. “Noelle, don’t. Don’t you dare.” Her mother’s gaze homed in like she had a target on her forehead. “I know that look, missy. Don’t you dare try to fix Ethan. No one can fix what broke him.”

Noelle pushed back her shoulders and tried to sound surprised...or at least mystified. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You see a broken toy, wounded animal, or sad person, and you do your best to fix the problem, no matter how big.”

“Well, that’s your fault. You raised me to be compassionate.”

“I raised you to help where there’s a need. Not everything or everyone can be fixed.” Maggie popped the end on her retractable pen in and out in rapid succession. “No sense in getting your emotions all tangled up. You’d just have to untangle them when you leave.”

Just because she wasn’t going to stay didn’t mean she couldn’t do something to help. Noelle pulled in a determined breath, her mind crunching through a few options. “Where is everyone meeting for Christmas this year? At the grocery store?”

“Heavens, no.” Maggie shook her head. “Harold and Claudia decided last year the space above the store was way too small. We’ll be having Christmas here, at the café.”

“How many are you inviting?”

“We’re encouraging anyone who doesn’t have a place to go for the holidays. So far the count is about twenty-three.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of prime rib. Can I help?”

“Absolutely. And before you poke your nose where it doesn’t belong, I’ve already asked Ethan. He declined. His uncle will be here, though.”

Jenna leaned in and winked. “Maybe you can get Mr. Hottie to change his mind.”

“Mr. Hottie? Me?” She looked at her mom, then Jenna. “You two know him better than I do.”

Jenna laughed, “Yes, but you’re the one shacking up with the guy.”

Noelle inhaled deeply. “Only because I can’t stay at Mom’s.”

“Sure. Sure.” Jenna flicked her hand, waving off the comment. “If it were me, I’d stay with Ethan any day of the week. I mean, just look at him. He’s got that handsome, outdoorsy look going, and there’s no better butt in this entire town.”

“Aren’t you married?”

“Yes, but I’m not dead. Besides, I’d like nothing better than for you to try out my new Sin Sugar on him.”

“Sin sugar?” Noelle laughed. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“I’ve discovered a whole new market for my leftover frosting. I slap it in a jar and label it Sin Sugar. I can’t keep the stuff on the shelf.”

“Frosting.” Noelle’s shoulders and arms pulled inward. “Holy fart-sticks. What are the people in this town going to think up next?”

“It’s fantastic, and flying off the shelves. I have six different flavors. I’m thinking of running an ad. Something like, ‘When you and your honey play, it’s oh, so much sweeter. A flavor for every mood’,” Jenna winked with a bit of wicked added in.

A tingle of heat brushed up Noelle’s neck. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this, especially in front of my mother.”

“Oh, hon. I didn’t raise you right if you think having sex isn’t natural.”

“It’s not that,” she shifted and rubbed her head. “Forget it. I’m changing the subject.” She hesitated.

“Well?” Maggie gave her a nudge. “If you’re going to talk about something else, get started. We don’t have all day.”

“Is all the Christmas stuff still stored in the garage at the house?”

“It is. Why?”

She dismissed her mother’s scrutiny. “I love Christmas, and I want to celebrate, even if I can’t stay at the house.”

Maggie gave her the famous what-are-you-up-to eye. “You rarely come home for the holidays. Scratch that. You rarely come home, period.”

“I refuse to be like my siblings and rush back every time I have a problem or need money. I’m getting pretty good at figuring things out for myself.”

“You needed money? When?”

Every day since I’ve been gone. “You’re missing the point. You raised me to stand on my own two feet. Look at you, you’ve made it on your own all these years.”

“Oh, hon. If you think I raised three kids and ran a business by myself, you are sorely mistaken. If it wasn’t for the people in this town, I’m not sure what I would have done.”

“But…”

“But what? Sure, I raised you kids to be tough, but nobody makes it through life without a little help now and then.”

“Isn’t that why you sent me to stay with Ethan? To help him?”

“No. We needed to find a place for you to stay. Those cabins are small and a bit on the chilly side.”

Her mother suddenly looked older. The ball-busting, motorcycle-riding hell-raiser she knew had softened. When did her mother become so mellow? “Maybe you shouldn’t be staying in the cabins either.”

“Don’t you worry about me. It’s not your job.”

“I do worry. And, what about those lumps the Doc mentioned?”

“Hush. You’re embarrassing me.” Maggie pulled the pens out of her apron pocket and began sorting for blue and black ink, putting them each in a different pocket. “What would you like for your birthday?”

A way to make you tell me what’s going on, and possibly make Ethan smile again. “A job would help. I figure I need about two hundred dollars to make it to LA for tryouts.”

“A job. You want a job for your birthday?” Maggie’s brows hitched up a couple of centimeters.

Noelle stuck her tongue out to make her mother laugh.

“If you want to work, you can pick up any shift you want. Take mine. My back aches. My feet hurt. I’d be happy to take the days off.”

Since when? Her mom always worked, starting at sunrise to well past sundown. Frustration combined with concern. Her mom looked tired, and much older.

But she didn’t look frail. There wasn’t a fragile bone in Maggie Conroy’s body. Her mother was the strongest woman she knew. “Thanks, Mom. Before I leave the restaurant, I’ll check the schedule.”

“And if you need some money, I’ve got a little set aside for you to have.”

“I don’t want your money. I’m perfectly capable of working. It’s just I don’t know if tip money will be enough to get me to LA.”

Maggie’s eyes went a bit misty as she gave Noelle one of her patented bear hugs. “I love you, baby girl. You make this momma proud.”

Proud? Of me? “You told me often enough that I remind you of my dad,” she murmured, trying to keep the resentment locked down tight. She didn’t want to be compared to some drunk loser who didn’t even stick around long enough to see his child born.

“He was my Peter Pan. The world was his playground, and he wanted to play.” Maggie stepped back. “I need to prep for lunch, and we need to finish this order.”

And I need to find more work if I’m going to get to LA and have enough to put down for first month’s rent.

A headache started at her temples, worked all the way through her head, and then rolled down her back. She lifted a long strand of hair, weaving it in and out of her fingers.

Noelle’s heart jolted when Jenna ran a hand down her arm. “If you don’t mind working a cash register, I can always use some help at the bakery—the pay is ten bucks an hour. It’s not like waitressing, because there aren’t any tips, but it would be fun working together. We’re almost like adopted sisters anyway, since Maggie decided to take me under her wing.”

And I’m grateful to have someone like you looking after my mom. The kindred whisper eased her heart. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

Her mother did, indeed, have a soft spot for Jenna. Not that she blamed her. Jenna’s story was amazing. Penniless and lost, Jenna had wandered into town several years ago. Rumor had it her mother found Jenna sleeping on a park bench and offered her a job and place to stay. Her mom would never confirm the story, but Noelle suspected it was true. Her mother was a good judge of people, and knew when to help. That’s why Noelle wanted her mother to know she was okay. She’d been raised right, and could take care of herself.

A complicated swell of emotions rolled into her throat and cut off her air. She gulped down a cleansing swish of relief. “When can I start?” she asked Jenna. Then she bit her lip, contemplating her next request. “Would you mind if I borrow a mixer? I’d like to make some of my favorite recipes for the holidays.”

“Why don’t we work on making treats together? We could even put some out for the customers as Christmas treats.”

“That would be fantastic. I could take some to Ethan.” Oh, no. She shouldn’t have mentioned his name. Both Jenna and her mother lasered in on her like a cat hearing the tuna can open.

“Forget I said that.”

“Nope. Not happening,” Jenna said with a little friendly nudge-nudge-poke-poke. “If you can find a way to get Ethan to smile, I’ll give you one of my Sin Sugar jars. I’m telling you, it works.”

Noelle fought off thinking about those delicious dimples she spotted this morning, his messy morning hair adding to the ooh-la-la look.

She reached into her back pocket for her vibrating phone to look at the text. “Please call me, Jon.” She deleted the jerk’s text, then rolled her eyes and shoved the phone back into her back pocket. “That won’t be necessary. I’m done with men.”

“I take it that was Jon.” Maggie brushed her bangs back as her expression gentled. “You say that now, but when the right one comes along, you’ll know it. I never did like Jon. Seemed awfully selfish to me.”

“You mean the guy who’s so into himself he forgot I was around half of the time? He is selfish. Always wanting to be the center of attention. I just couldn’t see it.”

“That sounds like an accurate description.”

“Mom. Why didn’t you say something?”

“It wouldn’t have helped. I know you. You’re stubborn, and would have stayed with him just to prove me wrong.”

That’s not true. Or was it? “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Jon’s out of my life.”

Maggie puffed out a breath. “We’ll see. He’s the type of guy who knows when he’s been offered a good meal.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not his meal ticket.” Not anymore.

“That’s my girl.” Maggie squeezed her arm. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

Jenna picked up her notebook full of scribbles. “Do you want to work here today or the bakery?”

“I say bakery,” Maggie interjected. “We’ve got coverage today. Tomorrow is a different story.”

“Do you want to follow me over to the bakery, then? I can fill you in on what I need help with.”

Noelle pulled her purse higher on her arm. “Sounds like a plan.”

Halfway out the door, Noelle realized her mother still hadn’t told her what was going on with her health. She’d find out one way or another. If she had to, she’d lay down the heredity guilt thing. If her mom was sick, she’d postpone LA.

Singing was her life, but if it came down to a choice between her dreams or helping her mother, of course she would help her mother.