Frosted Hearts

The snow began falling just as Annie Harper finished stacking the last tray of cinnamon rolls in the bakery’s display case. Through the frosted window, Cedar Grove was transformed into a picture-perfect postcard—a quaint, sleepy town blanketed in white, with holiday lights twinkling along the main street. She smiled to herself as she untied her apron and flipped the “Open” sign on the door. It was the kind of morning that reminded her why she’d fought so hard to keep the bakery running. The bell above the door jingled, and Mrs. Tillman from the flower shop stepped in, bundled up in a thick scarf. “Morning, Annie,” Mrs. Tillman said, stamping snow from her boots. “The snow’s really coming down out there. Perfect weather for something warm and sweet.” “Morning, Mrs. Tillman,” Annie replied, handing her a steaming cup of coffee. “First snowfall of the season always feels magical, doesn’t it?” Mrs. Tillman smiled. “It does. Let’s hope it’s a sign of good things to come.” Annie nodded, but a shadow crossed her face. As much as she loved the holidays, this year felt different. Business had been slow, and rumors about a development company buying up land in Cedar Grove had everyone on edge. She pushed the thought aside and focused on her customer, determined to keep the bakery’s warmth alive for as long as she could. By mid-morning, the storm outside had intensified. A gust of wind rattled the door, and Annie looked up from the counter just as it swung open. The man who stepped inside was a vision from her past, wrapped in a long wool coat and dusted with snow. Ethan Sterling. For a moment, Annie couldn’t breathe. It had been nearly ten years since she’d last seen him—ten years since he’d left Cedar Grove without a word. He’d been her first love, her everything, and then he’d vanished, leaving her to pick up the pieces. Now, here he was, standing in her bakery like no time had passed at all. “Annie,” he said, his deep voice both familiar and strange. “It’s been a while.” She recovered quickly, slipping on the practiced smile she used for difficult customers. “Ethan Sterling. Didn’t think I’d ever see you back here.” He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think I’d be back, to be honest. But here I am.” “Here you are,” she echoed, crossing her arms. “So, what brings you to Cedar Grove? Slumming it with us small-town folks for the holidays?” He didn’t flinch at her sharp tone. “Business, actually. My family’s company is considering a project here.” Her stomach dropped. She’d heard whispers about Sterling Enterprises, but she hadn’t connected the dots. Of course, it made sense now. The Sterlings had always been a powerful name, and Ethan had always been ambitious. Still, hearing it from him felt like a punch to the gut. “What kind of project?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. “A resort,” he said simply. “It could bring a lot of jobs and money to the town.” Annie’s jaw tightened. “And push out everyone who’s lived here for generations. Is that what you want?” “It’s not that simple,” Ethan said, his calm demeanor infuriating her. “But I didn’t come here to argue. I just wanted to say hello.” “Well, you’ve said it,” she snapped. “So, unless you’re here for a cinnamon roll, I think we’re done.” He hesitated, his gaze searching hers. For a moment, she thought he might say something else, but then he gave her a small nod and turned toward the door. “Goodbye, Annie,” he said softly before stepping out into the snow. --- The rest of the day passed in a blur. Customers came and went, but Annie’s mind was elsewhere, replaying her brief encounter with Ethan over and over. She couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve to show up here after everything that had happened. And now, he was threatening the one thing she cared about most—her town. As evening fell and the bakery grew quiet, Annie stood at the window, watching the snow pile up on the street outside. Her thoughts drifted to the past, to the summer she’d spent with Ethan before everything fell apart. They’d been inseparable then, two teenagers dreaming of a future far from Cedar Grove. He’d promised her the world, and she’d believed him. But in the end, he’d left her behind, chasing a life she could never be part of. She shook her head, willing herself to focus on the present. There was no point dwelling on old wounds, not when she had so much to fight for now. If Ethan thought he could waltz back into town and take over, he had another thing coming. --- The next morning, the bakery was busier than usual. News of Ethan’s arrival—and his plans for the resort—had spread quickly, and the townspeople were buzzing with speculation. Some saw it as an opportunity to revitalize Cedar Grove, while others, like Annie, feared it would destroy the town’s charm. As Annie served coffee and pastries, she overheard snippets of conversation. “Did you hear about the resort?” one man asked his friend. “They’re talking about putting it right on the edge of town.” “It could bring in a lot of business,” the friend replied. “But what about the shops on Main Street? What happens to them?” Annie’s hands tightened on the coffee pot. She couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Excuse me,” she said, turning to the men. “Do you really think a resort is going to help small businesses like mine? Big corporations don’t care about towns like Cedar Grove. They care about profit.” The men looked startled but nodded in agreement. “You’re probably right,” one of them said. “It’s just... hard to know what’s best.” Annie gave him a tight smile. “What’s best is fighting for what we have.” As the morning wore on, her resolve only grew stronger. She couldn’t let Ethan or his family destroy Cedar Grove—not without a fight. That evening, Annie found herself back at the bakery, going over the books and trying not to think about Ethan. She was just about to lock up for the night when the bell above the door jingled again. She looked up, and there he was, his coat dusted with snow and his expression unreadable. “We need to talk,” he said. “I don’t think we do,” she replied, crossing her arms. “I already know what you’re here to do, and I’m not interested in hearing your excuses.” “Annie, please,” he said, his voice softer now. “It’s not what you think.” She hesitated, torn between slamming the door in his face and letting him explain. Finally, she stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “Fine,” she said. “You’ve got five minutes. Make it count.”