One Bright Christmas
Page 1
The Cape Light Titles
CAPE LIGHT
HOME SONG
A GATHERING PLACE
A NEW LEAF
A CHRISTMAS PROMISE
THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL
A CHRISTMAS TO REMEMBER
A CHRISTMAS VISITOR
A CHRISTMAS STAR
A WISH FOR CHRISTMAS
ON CHRISTMAS EVE
CHRISTMAS TREASURES
A SEASON OF ANGELS
SONGS OF CHRISTMAS
ALL IS BRIGHT
TOGETHER FOR CHRISTMAS
BECAUSE IT’S CHRISTMAS
CHRISTMAS BLESSINGS
A CHRISTMAS SECRET
WHEN CHRISTMAS COMES
ONE BRIGHT CHRISTMAS
The Angel Island Titles
THE INN AT ANGEL ISLAND
THE WEDDING PROMISE
A WANDERING HEART
THE WAY HOME
HARBOR OF THE HEART
BERKLEY
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Copyright © 2020 by The Thomas Kinkade Estate and Parachute Publishing, LLC
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Spencer, Katherine, 1955– author.
Title: One bright Christmas / Katherine Spencer.
Description: First edition. | New York: Berkley, 2020. | Series: Thomas Kinkade’s Cape Light
Identifiers: LCCN 2020011979 (print) | LCCN 2020011980 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593198919 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593198926 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Cape Light (Imaginary place)—Fiction. | Christmas stories. | GSAFD: Christian fiction. | Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3553.A489115 O53 2020 (print) | LCC PS3553.A489115 (ebook) | DDC 813/.54—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020011979
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020011980
Cover art: Victorian Family Christmas © 2010 Thomas Kinkade Studios
Cover series design by Lesley Worrell
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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CONTENTS
Cover
Titles by Katherine Spencer
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Dear Reader
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
To my dear family and all the families that
have been touched this year by uncertainty and loss.
May we cherish and grow the love that remains,
which makes life truly worth living.
DEAR READER
As most of you know, a book is written far in advance of that happy day when the shiny, colorful cover appears on a bookstore shelf. As I write this note, we’re in the midst of a crisis that has taken the entire world by surprise, and at this point, taken more than 375,000 precious lives. Sadly, by the time you read this note, that number will be even greater.
There’s no doubt that we will all be touched in some way by the COVID-19 crisis and its aftermath. My own family and many close to me have already lost loved ones and look toward a financial future, once stable and sure, now clouded by uncertainty.
As I send this manuscript off to be printed, this story, intended to entertain, comfort, and inspire, seems as insignificant as a single teardrop falling on a firestorm of confusion and pain. But, as a friend pointed out, “When so much is uncertain and even torn away, much is possible.”
We are now tasked to take a deep breath and give thanks for what remains. Especially the well-being and safety of those we hold dear. And tasked to look beyond the rubble and imagine how we can repair and restore, or build something entirely new. With patience, courage, and faith. As we warily move forward, we can find comfort and reassurance in the simple blessings, untouched by change and still easily discovered when our hearts are open.
In One Bright Christmas, three characters are surprised by challenges that upend their plans and expectations. Their difficulties are hardly as sweeping and complex as those we presently face. But I hope these stories offer ideas that are encouraging and even useful in your own life.
Lucy Bates has carried a secret in her heart for more than thirty years, the pain of a wrong that she vows will never be forgotten, or forgiven. As Christmas approaches, she struggles to find mercy in her heart and discovers that the gift of forgiveness is, most of all, a gift to herself.
After her high-powered career and romance crash and burn, Lauren Willoughby returns home from New York City to fit the pieces of her shattered life back together. Determined to batter down the door that’s been slammed in her face, Lauren can neither see nor appreciate the window God has opened for her—one that frames the view of an even richer and more satisfying future.
Then there’s Lillian Warwick, who must learn to bend and even toss aside long-held standards and directives for the sake of her beloved husband, Ezra.
As I write this note, the holiday season is six months away. Who can say what the world will look like by then? But if you have this book in hand, I hope that you return from your visit to Cape Light feeling refreshed and renewed, and just a bit more hopeful about your own future.
In the words of Reverend Ben, “May this Christmas mark a fresh start for all of humanity, leading us in a new and better direction.”
With gratitude and love—
Katherine Spencer
CHAPTER ONE
It won’t be long, Tucker. This town is headed for the big time,” Charlie said. Lucy watched her husband toss a copy of the Cape Light Messenger onto the diner’s counter. It landed right next to the plate of his favorite customer.
Officer Tucker Tulley sat on his usual stool, a fork in hand aimed at a plate of eggs over easy, bacon, and rye toast. He paused to scan the front page. “Oh, that movie business. Is that what got you wound up this morning?”
“I’ll say I’m wound up. This village is going to be famous. And the diner, too, if I have anything to do about it.”
Tucker managed a bite before he answered. “So you say, Charlie. Some folks don’t agree. They don’t want a film crew taking over the place. There’s bound to be inconvenience, not to mention gawking fans rushing in for miles arou
nd. In the middle of Christmastime.”
Tucker had patrolled the streets of Cape Light for nearly forty years. He spoke little but listened a lot. He knew, probably better than anyone, how his fellow citizens felt about important matters. He had an even keener sense of popular opinion than Charlie, who’d been mayor for the past four years. Charlie sometimes thought of Tucker as his automatic polling center.
The debate had begun months ago, when the film production company scouted the area as a possible location. When the group contacted village hall, Charlie persuaded the village board of trustees to grant the permits and permissions over many objections. He was sure the visit would benefit the town.
Lucy sided with Tucker, but not because of parking problems or an invasion of onlookers. She had her own reasons—private reasons she would never admit to anyone. Certainly not to her husband and his pal. She didn’t offer her opinion on the question and had no wish to take part in the debate. With any luck, she would be out of the diner and on the way to her first patient appointment in a minute or two.
She had only stopped by to pick up a binder she needed for work. She was practically positive that she’d left it at the diner on Saturday, when she had squeezed in a waitressing shift around the schedule of her real job as a visiting nurse. She did not miss her former career at the diner one bit, but she sometimes returned when Charlie was shorthanded.
She recalled flipping through the schedules and forms, in between orders, and was pretty sure it had ended up somewhere behind the counter. Keeping her head down—literally and figuratively—Lucy searched the low shelves below the countertop where glasses and dishes were stored. Flying under the radar made it easy to avoid the conversation between Charlie and Tucker.
Charlie took the newspaper back, his expression delighted as he read aloud, “‘Lights, camera, action! Hollywood is coming to Cape Light!’
“People always say they don’t want this sort of thing,” he told Tucker. “But when it happens, they love it.”
Tucker slapped a butter pat on a slice of toast and took a bite. “What do you think, Lucy?”
Lucy had just spotted her quarry under a pile of menus and grabbed it. She popped up from behind the counter like a meerkat. “Isn’t this weather crazy?” she said, deliberately changing the subject. “I’m glad I grabbed my light jacket. I heard it might hit fifty this afternoon.”
New Englanders never tired of talking about the weather, and Lucy thought the ploy worth a try. Especially with Tucker, who was outdoors walking his beat most of the day.
“It’s that global warming.” Tucker chewed with a thoughtful expression. “Skipped the thermals this morning—good thing.”
Charlie looked baffled, then annoyed. “Do we really need to talk about your underwear issues, Tucker? With all this excitement going on?”
He glanced at his wife and waved his hand. “Lucy isn’t interested in the movie crew coming. She’s told me a few times. Right, honey?” He turned back to Tucker before Lucy could answer. “That’s fine. Everyone’s entitled to their opinion. But it doesn’t change the facts. This movie will put our little village on the map. Right up there with those posh zip codes on Cape Cod and the Vineyard.”
“We’re already on the map, Charlie. A big red dot, right between Essex and Newburyport.” Another voice joined the debate. Lucy turned to see Tucker’s wife—and her best friend—Fran, stroll up to the counter.
“Hey, you.” Fran greeted her with a familiar smile. “I thought you had an early patient today?”
“I just swung by to pick something up.” Lucy waved her prize. “Maybe we can catch up tonight. I’ll call you.”
Fran looked confused by Lucy’s rush. “Sure. I’ll be home.”
Lucy could tell Fran’s radar was up, and she knew why, too. Their friendship went back to high school—though not quite as far back as Charlie and Tucker’s, who had bonded over building blocks on the first day of kindergarten, so the story went. With Tucker doing the heavy lifting and Charlie directing, Lucy had no doubt.
She and Fran had a different sort of friendship. Fran knew her and loved her, just as she was, and Lucy felt the same about Fran.
“We were talking about the movie crew that’s coming soon,” Charlie said, sliding the newspaper toward Fran.
“Charlie can hardly wait,” Tucker added.
Fran’s eyes grew wide and she nodded. “Neither can I. Especially for the celebrity spotting. Craig Hamilton, for instance?” She caught Lucy’s gaze as she was trying to maneuver her way past Charlie.
Charlie had fixed Fran her usual coffee-to-go without being asked. He tapped the lid on the cup and set it in front of her.
“Hamilton is a little past the heartthrob stage, don’t you think?” Tucker said. “I hear he’s playing a father role.”
Fran laughed. “You forget, Tucker—his fans have gotten older, too. I think he looks better than ever.” She gazed at the photo in the paper and then at Lucy again. But she didn’t ask her opinion. Thank goodness, Lucy thought.
Tucker studied the photo. “Those can’t be his real teeth. And you know that’s a toupee, or a weave?”
Charlie waved a hand, dismissing the critique. “Fake teeth, bald as an egg, doesn’t matter. He’s a hometown hero. That counts for a lot.”
Tucker was still not convinced. “Not exactly our hometown. He grew up in Newburyport.”
“Close enough,” Charlie insisted. “The article says he got his start right here in the Cape Light Community Theater.” Charlie peered down at the newspaper again. “He had the lead in Oklahoma!—right before he left to make his mark.”
Tucker squinted. “Must have missed that one. I don’t remember our little theater doing Oklahoma!”
Lucy did, all too clearly. Way back when she aspired to be an actress. A silly, immature ambition, a fever that had taken over for a short time, like a twenty-four-hour bug—but one that had burned brightly. She had joined the amateur theater group after high school and taken part in a few shows, including a role in the chorus of Oklahoma! Farm Girl Number Three?
She had been one among many in the cast and on the stage. Craig Hamilton was the romantic lead, and even at that phase of his career, whenever he stepped into the spotlight, his presence was electric and commanding. Everyone said he could make it in Hollywood. And so he had.
“It must have been over thirty years ago,” Charlie replied. “Who cares? The point is, we can definitely claim him as a favorite son. Let’s tack this page on the bulletin board. I’ll ask him to autograph it when he comes in.”
“Assuming he does come in,” Tucker added.
Charlie didn’t seem to hear him. He turned to Lucy, who felt trapped. No matter which direction she moved, Charlie blocked her path from behind the counter.
“Hey, hon. Mind taking care of that? I got my hands full here.”
Lucy nearly laughed. So far, he’d only served one order, and that was to Tucker. Trudy, the regular waitress, had been handling all the rest.
“I have to get to work, Charlie. If you could get out of the way and let me pass?”
Charlie’s brow furrowed, surprised by her reaction. Lucy was always so easygoing and rarely objected to any request. “Sure, sure. Let me squeeze by before you run me over.” He scuttled to the far end of the counter and headed for the big swinging doors that opened to the kitchen.
Lucy grabbed her cup of take-out coffee, the binder tucked under her arm, and headed for the door. Fran had also picked up her coffee, and now she swiped a slice of Tucker’s toast. She hurried after Lucy. “Wait up, Lu. I’ll walk you out.”
Lucy glanced over her shoulder as Fran followed. She held open the door, and they stepped out onto Main Street. Lucy knew Fran wanted to talk—and what she wanted to talk about. But she wasn’t in the mood, and she wasn’t ready for this conversation.
Luckily, her car was parked in
the opposite direction from Fran’s office at Bowman Realty.
“My car’s just up the street, near Pet Port. You have a good day. I’ll call you later,” she promised.
Fran shook her head. “You’re not getting away that easily. Not from me, my dear. Charlie and Tucker might be oblivious. But I know you, Lucy. I know what’s up.”
“Nothing is up.” Lucy shrugged. “I wish you’d believe me.”
“Is that why you jumped out of your skin when I mentioned his name? Don’t you want to get some closure, finally? Don’t you want to talk to him? Just once?”
“Talk to him? That’s the last thing I want to do. I don’t even watch his movies. You know that.”
Fran shook her head, her gaze full of understanding, even sympathy, though Lucy could tell she was still not convinced.
“I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: The odds of Craig Hamilton returning to Cape Light must be one in ten million. Maybe even higher. But it’s happening. You need to face it, Lucy. You need to reconnect and talk things out. You’ll regret it forever if you don’t.”
Lucy bit her lip to hold back a sharp reply that had sprung up from somewhere deep inside, some painful place that had never quite healed. She wasn’t mad at Fran. Her dear friend had good intentions. Lucy just didn’t agree, and Fran couldn’t seem to understand why.
“I know you mean well, and I love you for it. You’re the only person in the entire world who knows the whole story. And you helped me so much when it happened. I’ll always be grateful for that,” she said sincerely. “But I’m over it, and I have no intention of going back there. No way, no how.” Lucy paused and looked into her friend’s dark eyes. “I hope we can drop it now once and for all. I don’t want to talk about this again.”
Fran’s eyes flickered with disbelief. “All right. I’ll leave it for today. Let’s see how you feel once you see him face-to-face. If you’re really as unfazed as you claim, not another word. I promise.”
“You drive a hard bargain, lady.” Lucy had to smile. “A good thing in the real estate business, I bet.” Though sometimes a sticky point in our friendship, she didn’t add. “If that’s what it takes to convince you, all I can say is ‘You’ll see.’ Now give me a hug, old thing. I’m sorry I got cross.”