Grace
When Grace stepped back into the Spruce Lodge, the first thing she noticed was Kaleb lingering in the dining hall, deep in conversation with Arthur. The chill of the night still clung to him—his coat dusted with frost, cheeks ruddy from the cold, and a faint steam rising from his breath in the warm glow of the firelit room. For a moment, Grace froze where she stood. Memories rushed back—the heat of his touch earlier, the sharp words Margaret had whispered to her, and the knowledge that Kaleb had been the one scouring the woods, worried sick when she’d gone missing.
Almost as if he sensed the weight of her stare, Kaleb’s head lifted, his eyes locking on hers. The moment was too much. Flustered, Grace spun on her heel and bolted toward the stairs like a girl caught staring too long a
