Charlotte had never seen Rosie so bright and happy. And this was a woman who always exuded a calming kind of joy. She’d arrived in before opening, tinsel decorating her wheelchair and wearing a Santa hat. She insisted Charlotte wear one as well.
“Fine, but I’d be better as an elf.”
“I will consider that next year.” Rosie was halfway to the kitchen and called over her shoulder. “Actually, I won’t. Next year you will be the boss.”
Charlotte sank onto her stool with a soft thud. Rosie really thought she would be the one. From the moment she’d stepped inside the bookshop—in fact, before that, when she’d seen the beautiful window display—Charlotte was lost in admiration.
Charlotte and Rosie kept in touch after the visit and when things got too hard for her in River’s End, Charlotte accepted
