Cass leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes for a moment—during which time Charlie felt alarmed, as irrational as she knew that was—but she quickly opened them again. Her light brown eyes were bright and alert, and Charlie knew everything was fine. “Amazing, right?” her sister said. “That in the end, I’m the one who stood up for you?”
“Hey, you are way more assertive than you realize. I mean, that e-mail to Makewell’s? That was amazing. When I first saw it I thought it was out of character for you and I was concerned—but it wasn’t, not really. I’ve had a little time to sit here and think about that. You’re a strong person, Cass. Much stronger than you realize.”
Cass nodded her head, then winced.
“You okay?”
“Just a little tender. And you might be right. I know I’m in the hospital—and I know I’ve made some mistakes. But I feel strong. Meanwhile, I think all this has made you see a new side of yourself, too, right? You’d become so caught up in your life in L.A. I was starting to think you didn’t care about home anymore. That maybe you’d even lost a part of yourself. A part of you I loved.”
“I found that part again,” Charlie said softly. “And it’s thanks to you. Because being in your shoes made me realize the things that are really important to me. I’ve been sitting here thinking, for hours. And I’ve decided I’m going to call my agent later today and take a hiatus. I need to figure out what I really want from my life. I need a break.”
Cass squeezed her sister’s hand one last time, then let go and sat up, pulling her hair away from her face, revealing the dark row of stitches—but somehow, now they seemed less ominous.
Charlie expected her sister to say what she normally said when Charlie had a plan for her life. That’s a good idea, Charlie. You know what you’re doing. “Are you sure about that?” Cass said instead. “I think you need to reevaluate, sure. But a break? I don’t know about that. You’re Charlie Goodwin. You’re a hot commodity in L.A. You can do whatever you set your mind to. You just need to figure out what it is. As much as I wish it could be here in Starlight Peak, I don’t think that’s the answer. Not quite.”
Charlie flopped back in her uncomfortable hospital chair. “Except Jake,” she began.
“Jake. Yes.” Cass smiled. “I didn’t see that one coming. You two are . . . Well, even in my state yesterday, I swear to you I could see the sparks fly between the two of you. You’re in love!”
“Really? Because I think he’s disappointed in me right now, knowing I was lying about who I was this whole week. I don’t think that’s a situation I’m going to be able to rectify.”
“I know Jake. He’s the type of guy who gives second chances. Plus, I don’t think he’s going to find it easy to walk away from you.” Cass reached for the plastic cup of water beside her bed, sipped it, wrinkled her nose. “This water tastes like hospital. What I really need is a good coffee, some coffee cake to go with it, and to be home. Do you think you could arrange that for me, Charlie?”
Charlie jumped up. “Of course I can. The doctors said when you woke up on your own we’d talk about releasing you into my care, and the care of a certain sexy physician assistant—whom they seemed very impressed with, by the way. He really knows his stuff. I think they tried to offer him a job. Plus, it turns out the head of the ward is a fan of Sweet and Salty. Give me five minutes. I’ll get you out of here.”
Charlie left the room and strode down the hall. Out the window, the world was blanketed in snow, and she could see the mountains in the distance, and the colorful storefronts of the town she loved, all decorated for Christmas. Cass was back, and that really was all that mattered. But her relationship with Jake was still up in the air and, to top it all off, her parents’ flight had been further delayed. It was possible that, for the first time ever, the Goodwins weren’t all going to be together for Christmas. And that Woodburn Breads was not going to be able to provide enough Starlight Bread—275 loaves in total this year—for the town square Christmas Eve celebration. But getting Cass home would be enough. The rest, she could try to deal with later.
* * *
? ? ?
Charlie pushed the bakery door open slowly, knowing how sensitive a person felt after a head injury, and that even the slightest sound—like the tinkling of bells—could cause agony. She had driven home from the hospital at a snail’s pace, with the radio off even though at this time of year she constantly listened to Christmas carols. But Cass seemed perfectly fine. In fact, as the bells tinkled and the door opened, her entire face lit up. She looked happier than Charlie had ever seen her. Charlie followed her sister’s gaze.