From Snow, With Love...

Chapter One: Old flames that flicker

At twenty-four, Lana Blanco had mastered the art of pretending her heart didn't skip a beat whenever Asher Caldwell entered a room. She'd had years of practice, after all. But sitting at her parents' Christmas dinner table, watching him with Victoria Chen – internationally known model and his girlfriend of six months – she wished she'd practiced harder.

"And then this adorable little boy at the hospital wouldn't let anyone but Ash examine him," Victoria was saying, her perfect red lips curved in an indulgent smile as she touched Asher's arm. "It's like he has some kind of magic with children."

Lucas Caldwell, seated beside Lana, made a quiet gagging sound that only she could hear. At twenty-six, he'd grown into his boyish charm, but never lost his ability to make her laugh at exactly the right moment. He slid his wine glass toward her. "You look like you need this more than I do."

"I'm fine," Lana whispered, but accepted the glass anyway. She'd learned that "fine" was a useful word – it covered everything from "my heart is breaking" to "I wish your brother's girlfriend would stop playing with his hair at the dinner table."

Victoria was everything Lana wasn't – tall, sophisticated, and apparently comfortable wearing four-inch heels to a family dinner. Her Chinese-French heritage had blessed her with ethereal features that had launched her modeling career at sixteen, and at twenty-eight, she seemed to have mastered the art of making everyone else feel slightly inadequate.

"Lana, darling," Victoria called across the table, making her jump slightly. "Asher tells me you illustrate children's books. That must be so... sweet."

The slight pause before 'sweet' made it sound like a consolation prize. Lana felt Lucas tense beside her.

"Actually," Asher spoke up before Lana could respond, "Lana's latest book was shortlisted for the Caldecott Medal." His green eyes met hers across the table, filled with the same pride she'd seen when she was five and showed him her first drawing. "She's incredible."

Victoria's perfect smile faltered slightly. "Oh, how lovely."

"Remember when Lana used to make us act out her stories?" Lucas jumped in, his blue eyes twinkling. "Ash, you were always the knight or the prince—"

"And you were always the dragon," Asher finished, laughing. "By choice, as I recall."

"Dragons have more fun," Lucas shrugged. "Plus, I got to chase Lana around the yard."

Lana watched Victoria's expression shift as the brothers reminisced. It was subtle – a slight tightening around her eyes, a barely perceptible straightening of her spine. She'd seen that look before on Asher's previous girlfriends. It was the moment they realized just how interwoven the Caldwell and Blanco families were, how many memories they'd never be part of.

"Ash never told me you all grew up together," Victoria said, her tone carefully neutral.

"Didn't he?" Lucas's voice was innocent, but Lana caught the mischief in his eyes. "Oh man, wait till you hear about the time Lana convinced Ash to—"

"Lucas." Asher's tone held a warning, but his eyes were on Lana, something unreadable in their depths.

Later, after dinner had been cleared and the adults had moved to the living room, Lana escaped to the back porch. The December air was crisp, and she pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. Behind her, the sound of Victoria's melodious laughter floated through the windows.

"You're going to freeze out here, pequeña."

She didn't need to turn to know it was Lucas. He was the only one who still used her father's nickname for her, though it had become gently ironic now that she was an adult.

"Just needed some air."

Lucas settled beside her on the porch swing, their shoulders touching. "You know what I don't get?" he said after a moment. "Why my brilliant big brother can date a walking fashion magazine but can't see what's right in front of him."

"Luke—"

"No, seriously. Victoria Chen? She probably thinks comfort food is a designer brand."

Despite herself, Lana laughed. This was why she loved Lucas – he could always pull her back from the edge of melancholy.

"She makes him happy," Lana said, trying to sound convincing.

"Does she?" Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Because I've seen Ash happy. I've seen him reading your stories to his patients. I've seen him show up at every one of your art shows. I've seen him keep that little glass reindeer you broke and helped him fix when you were eight."

Lana's head snapped up. "He still has that?"

"Top shelf of his bookcase. Says it's his good luck charm." Lucas bumped her shoulder. "But sure, tell me again how Victoria makes him happy."

Before Lana could respond, the porch door opened. Asher stood there, his tall frame silhouetted against the warm light from inside. "Mom's looking for you, Luke. Something about the dessert you promised to bring?"

Lucas winced. "Ah, right. Knew I forgot something." He stood, kissing the top of Lana's head before heading inside. "Try not to freeze, you two."

The silence that followed felt heavy with nineteen years of history. Asher moved to take Lucas's place on the swing, and Lana caught a whiff of his cologne – the same one he'd worn since high school, the one she'd once tried to buy for a boyfriend in college before realizing it wouldn't be the same.

"You've been quiet tonight," he said softly.

"Just tired. Deadline coming up."

"The new book about the lighthouse keeper's daughter?"

Her heart fluttered that he remembered. "Yeah."

"Can I see it sometime? Before publication?"

"You want to?"

He turned to look at her then, his expression serious. "Lana, I always want to see your work. You know that."

And that was the problem, wasn't it? He always wanted to see her work, always supported her dreams, always treated her with a kindness that made it impossible to stop loving him. But he did it all while dating sophisticated models and treating her like his precious childhood friend.

Inside, Victoria's laughter rang out again. Asher didn't turn toward the sound.

"We miss you, you know," he said quietly. "At the hospital. The kids keep asking when you're coming back to read to them."

"I miss them too." She'd spent every Tuesday afternoon for the past year reading to the children in his pediatric ward, until Victoria had started showing up with lunch for Asher on the same days. After the third week of watching them together, Lana had made an excuse about deadlines.

"So come back." His hand found hers on the swing between them, warm despite the cold air. "The stories aren't the same when I read them."

Lana looked at their joined hands, remembering all the times he'd held her hand over the years – teaching her to write her name, helping her across streams during family camping trips, steadying her at her college graduation. Always caring, always protective, always just her father's best friend's son.

"Ash," she started, not sure what she was going to say.

The porch door opened again. "Darling, your mother's serving dessert," Victoria called. "Oh, am I interrupting something?"

Asher squeezed Lana's hand once before letting go. "Just catching up. We'll be right in."

As he stood, Lana caught a flash of something in Victoria's perfect features – uncertainty, maybe even fear. For the first time, she wondered if maybe she wasn't the only one pretending her heart didn't skip beats.

"Coming?" Asher held out his hand to help her up, just like he had at that first Christmas party nineteen years ago.

Lana took it, because she always did, and followed him inside, because she always would. But this time, she thought she felt his fingers linger against hers just a moment too long.