by Ginny Baird
Evan’s neck warmed and he rubbed the back of it, knowing he was blowing things out of proportion. Mary was staying at Marshall’s, after all, and Marshall was a well-known eligible bachelor too. All three of the Clark brothers were, only none of them was looking.
Not seriously. Not at the moment. And Evan was looking the least hard of all.
She glanced at the exit like she was in a hurry to go, which she was. Obviously. “Same time tomorrow work for you?” she asked. “Or is the afternoon better?”
“Let’s make it afternoon,” Evan said, wanting more time to collect his scrambled thoughts. He also planned to talk to his dad, Jesse. Jesse was an extremely grounded man and also a manager for Public Works. Surely, he’d foresee the disaster that was coming from Mary’s scheme and be on Evan’s side in tamping down her exploding debacle of a parade.
“Sounds good.” Mary smiled. “Four o’clock? Here?”
“Sure,” Evan replied. “Why not?”
She breezed out the door and into the swirling snow, popping open her bright red umbrella. Evan stood and gathered his trash, still lost in the hazy fog caused by whirlwind Mary. It was only when he picked up his empty coffee cup that he realized that fifty minutes had gone by and that it was almost eleven o’clock.
Chapter Seven
When Mary arrived at the gazebo, Connie was there chatting with two men. The younger guy was athletic-looking with light hair and a beard, and the older heavyset man with gray hair seemed about Connie’s age. He slightly resembled Evan, and Mary wondered if he was Connie’s husband and dad to their three boys.
“Mary, come on over here!” Connie waved her toward them. “I want you to meet Ken Larsen from our neighboring town, and this is my husband,” she said, motioning to the man beside her, who held out his hand.
“Mary,” he said. “So nice to meet you. I’m Jesse Clark.”
“Mr. Clark—”
“Please,” he smiled warmly, and this time he reminded her of Marshall. “Jesse is fine.”
“Then Jesse it is,” she said, grinning.
Ken nodded a polite hello. “Good to see you, Mary. I’m the one you spoke with on the phone at the Holly and the Ivy.”
“Of course.” She studied his expressive face, which was tanned like he was used to spending lots of time outdoors. “Thanks so much for your sponsorship.”
“Ken was the first one to sign up as an official sponsor,” Mary said to Connie and Jesse. “Elf League.”
“It helps that I have a thing for our new Chamber of Commerce director.” Ken lowered his voice in a whisper. “Apart from doing a good deed, I was hoping to impress her.”
Mary giggled at his frankness. It seemed people in these small towns told each other everything, even when they weren’t from the same small town. “I actually think I spoke with her, and she was so nice. Gave me contact information for several business owners, and even one local developer.”
Connie addressed Ken. “She’s Sara Rose’s little girl, isn’t she?”
“Dusty, that’s right,” Ken said. “All grown up now and recently moved back home.”
“How nice,” Jesse chimed in. “Old friends reunited.”
Connie grinned in an enigmatic way. “Or maybe they’ll be more than friends one day?”
Ken smiled. “You always were an old romantic, Mrs. Clark.”
“Now, don’t be calling me ‘old’,” she teased, and the rest of them laughed.
Ken rubbed his gloves together, seeming to weigh his confession. “Wouldn’t mind that,” he said a bit sheepishly. “Me and Dusty, the long haul…” He shrugged. “You know.”
“Well, your impressive sponsorship of Clark Creek’s Christmas Parade is a very good way to catch her eye,” Mary told him.
“From the look on his face,” Connie said slyly, “he’s already got it.”
Ken chuckled and nodded his head. “Yeah.”
Jesse studied Ken. “Will you bring Dusty to our parade?”
“Would if I could, but we’ve got another date for the holidays.”
“Oh yeah?” Mary asked him.
“Colorado.”
Jesse whistled. “That’s a long ways to go for a latte. What’s there?”
“My sister and her husband, and their kids,” Ken said.
“So, it’s looking serious then?” Mary asked with a nudge. She’d barely met Ken, and yet, he was so accepting and warm, she already felt a familiar kinship with him. In Clark Creek it was so easy to fit in, with everyone but Evan.
“I’ll be sure to let you know.” He surveyed the group and gave a happy grin. “In fact, I’ll probably be shouting it from the mountaintops. You might even hear the good news all the way back in Virginia. Assuming there is good news.”
This brought laughter all around.
Now that he’d gotten started, Ken couldn’t resist sharing more. “My friend Sam Singleton set me up with a diamond. Totally elegant and one of a kind. Sam’s our jeweler in Hopedale and his shop is known for its engagement rings. If you haven’t seen one of his TV spots already,” he told Mary, “you probably will while you’re here. They air throughout the local area.”
“How exciting for you,” Mary said. She held up her fingers and crossed them. “I hope all goes well.”
“Thank you,” he said, and Mary felt like she’d made a friend. Three friends, counting Connie and Jesse. Itzel and Dennis had been super friendly too. Then, there was welcoming Marshall. She hadn’t met Nash in person, but he sounded kind and approachable on the phone. The only holdout among them was stand-offish Evan, although she had noticed a slow thaw happening with him this morning. He’d essentially agreed with her about the animal floats, so he seemed to be coming around. Baby steps. But still.
“Oh, Ken,” Connie said, and Mary realized she’d missed some of their chatter. “It’s good to see you again.” She turned to Mary. “I was friends with Ken’s late mom when we were growing up.”
“Connie’s from Hopedale, you know,” Jesse explained.
“No,” Mary said. “I didn’t know that.”
Connie grew wistful at the memory. “Lived there a long time ago.”
“Wasn’t that long, darling,” Jesse said. “She was sweet sixteen when her family moved to Clark Creek and she stole my heart away.”
Mary was touched by his confession, and Ken couldn’t help but smile.
“The stealing was mutual, honey,” Connie said.
“You haven’t changed a bit.” Jesse twinkled at his wife and patted his ample belly. “I, on the other hand…” He chortled good-naturedly. “Thanks to your good cooking.”
Connie became reflective a moment. “Ah yes, Hopedale,” she said, reciting as if from memory, “Home of the Hopedale Honeybee.”
“The town’s motto is ‘Where Love Springs Eternal’ now,” Ken said, and the others smiled at his correction.
“Then, it seems the town motto’s on your side,” Jesse quipped.
Connie sighed. “How times have changed.”
“For the better in Hopedale,” Ken told her and the others. “I was really sorry to learn of Clark Creek’s hard times.”
“We don’t have your ski resort here,” Connie said. “Or those mineral springs that draw tourists.”
Mary glanced around at the attractive string of businesses framing the town square, and then at the nearly empty skating rink, which she suspected might fill up later once kids were out of school. In the falling snow, the setting appeared magical. Like something you’d see on a holiday card, only it was beautifully real.
The library was at one end of the square and the courthouse at the other, facing Main Street. She stared up at a second-floor window, thinking from its location that it must be Evan’s office. He hadn’t turned on the Christmas lights she’d wound around his coat rack. If he had, she’d see them twinkling.
Evan seemed pretty wound tight about lots of things, especially her parade. But there’d been that moment at the café when he’d nearly let his
guard down: when he’d teased her about her inspirations. Mirth had flickered in his eyes and he’d almost seemed flirtatious. Almost, but not quite. Flirting was probably as foreign to Evan as having fun.
She tried to imagine him cutting loose and having a really good belly laugh, or doing something goofy like playing in the snow. Even for her great imagination, that was a stretch. And yet, she had to believe that it was possible and that he had his fun-loving side. Mary’s cheeks heated when she realized what she was wishing. She was hoping she’d see that side of Evan personally. At least one time before she left Clark Creek.
“Clark Creek has a lot to offer,” Mary said, rejoining the conversation.
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “I hear you’ve come to make the most of that.”
“Her parade’s going to be the bomb,” Connie said.
Ken shook his head. “I’m really sorry I have to miss it.”
“Maybe it will become an annual event?” Jesse suggested.
Connie’s eyes shimmered with delight. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”
“Yeah,” Mary said with a happy heart. “It would.” If a certain sheriff shared that view, her life would be perfect. But she honestly didn’t need Evan’s stamp of approval for her parade to be successful. If all she could get was his grudging cooperation, she’d take it, and find a way to make lemonade out of his lemons.
“You should give Sam a call,” Ken said to Mary. “See if he’ll help out. He and his wife Angie own their shop together, and they’re really good people. They’d probably be happy to contribute to your parade. I can talk to them beforehand. Give them a little heads up.”
“Really?” Mary’s heart lifted even higher. “That would be amazing, Ken. Thanks. I saw Singleton’s Jewelers on my list, but I haven’t called them yet.”
“Tell you what,” Ken said. “Why don’t I ask Dusty for a copy of the list she sent you. I don’t mind doing a little legwork around Hopedale. Talking to folks who might not have heard about your parade.”
“That’s a great idea,” Connie said. “Thank you, Ken.”
“Yes,” Jesse added. “Thank you so much—from all of us in Clark Creek.”
Ken nodded like it was no problem, then asked Mary, “Do you have any flyers I can hand out? Like that sponsorship form you emailed me.”
Mary grinned. “Sure do. I’ve got dozens more in my bag.” She pulled some from her satchel and Ken tucked them away in his jacket.
“Thanks.”
Then he and Mary got to work, as she told him about the type of tree she wanted for the town square and the other sorts of decorations she’d love to have for the gazebo. While they were talking, Jesse walked up to Mary before leaving with Connie.
“I say, I was wondering...” He stroked his heavy chin. “What’s your thinking regarding there being a Santa Claus in this parade?”
Mary beamed at him. She had to look up, because he was over six feet tall like his boys, while she was only five-nine. Even in her high-heeled boots, Jesse still had a couple of inches on her. “My thinking is that a Santa Claus float is a must.”
“For a Christmas parade,” Connie said, joining her husband. “Absolutely.” She considered Jesse. Then, she stared at Mary. “Jesse always plays Santa for the kids at our church during our Advent Festival. It’s the first Sunday after Thanksgiving every year.” She smiled like a light bulb had just gone off in her head.
“So…ho-ho.” Jesse grinned a jolly grin, cinching the deal. “I already have the suit.”
Evan caught up with his dad as he strolled out of Clark Creek Elementary holding his granddaughter’s hand. Jesse was taking Chloe to her dance lesson after school, since he was semi-retired now, and Nash was working at his clinic. The little girl skipped along beside her grandpa, her dark pigtails bouncing against her puffy purple coat with every step.
“Nice job with your presentation,” Evan told his dad.
“Thanks. Same with yours.”
Chloe’s big grin displayed a gap where her two upper front teeth had been. “I love my sticker, Uncle Evan.” She patted the sticker with her mitten where she’d affixed it to her coat.
“You make a very fine sheriff, Buttercup,” Evan said, and Chloe giggled.
She stared hopefully up at him and he knew what she wanted.
“Okay. Here you go.” Evan chuckled and removed his hat, placing it on Chloe’s head. She held it on either side by its brim, as it got buffeted by the wind.
“Thanks, Uncle Evan!” she crooned, looking up.
Evan tapped the top of the hat. “You’re welcome.”
Community Helpers’ day had gone just fine, with hordes of kindergartners through second graders sitting at rapt attention in the auditorium. Evan had come prepared with sheriff badge stickers to hand out to the kids. Last year, he’d given out toy plastic badges, but those were now too costly per item. Evan had talked about his daily duties as sheriff, underscoring important safety rules, like not talking to strangers and looking both ways before crossing the street.
Jesse had explained to the kids about how his crews helped keep the town tidy by maintaining clean streets—and clear ones, in snowy and icy weather. He’d gifted the children forest green pencils marked with Clark Creek’s golden emblem of a shady oak tree, like the landmark one that sat on the banks of Clark Creek where it joined the James River tributary. Evan knew these pencils hadn’t cost his dad anything, since his mom had had them made up in abundance for all county employees two years ago, and they were still enjoying an excess.
The librarian had brought bookmarks, which she’d also had in oversupply, and Donny had delivered the cardboard fire hats he had left over from last year’s county fair, where kids had been allowed to climb aboard the hose and ladder truck. The pediatric dentist handed out travel toothbrushes, while the other medical professional there, the nurse practitioner, supplied mini hand sanitizers, with reminders to the kids to always wash their hands before eating.
The adults in attendance were doing what they could to keep the children unaware of the town’s financial woes, but Evan suspected that some of them picked up on the stress being experienced by their parents. Evan gave the school’s teachers and staff full credit for maintaining an upbeat educational atmosphere. The parent volunteers were trying hard, too; a number of them served the homemade refreshments they’d brought in after the lower grade assembly.
But Evan knew the friendly faces of those familiar townsfolk masked their secret worries. With commerce down, and so many businesses hurting, would this really be a merry Christmas for all? Beyond fretting about the extra expense of presents, people had very real concerns about putting food on the table for their families and making ends meet.
“I met our new Christmas Consultant earlier,” Jesse said, when they reached the parking lot.
Evan spoke above the wind. “Funny you should mention that, because I actually wanted to talk to you about her.”
“She’s doing a splendid job.” Jesse grinned. “Very impressive.”
“What?”
“She’s going to get the town square all done up for Christmas, and at no expense to Clark Creek.”
“How did she manage that?”
“By working a bit of holiday magic.” Jesse opened the back door to his truck which already had a child’s car seat strapped into the back seat. Chloe scrambled right into it, knocking off the sheriff’s hat when it bumped against the roof.
“Sorry, Uncle Evan,” she said, buckling herself in.
Evan shot her a wink and scooped his hat off the icy ground, seating it back on his head. “No worries, sweetheart.” He returned his attention to his dad when his dad shut Chloe’s door. “No, really,” he asked again. “How did she?”
Snow drove down harder, dusting both their hats. “Mary’s made some connections in Hopedale,” his dad said. “Ken Larsen was here taking measurements for a town tree.”
“Ken? From the nursery over there?”
His dad nodded. “That’s t
he one.”
“And all for free,” Evan added skeptically.
“Not no-strings completely. There was something about his business being one of the parade sponsors, so I reckon he’ll get some publicity out of this.”
The premise sounded good, of course. Doable. Have those sounder businesses contribute to Mary’s parade in exchange for self-promotion. It was a canny form of advertising. Only, that didn’t solve the major problem of the parade size Mary had planned, and its related logistical issues.
“I know Mary means well,” Evan said. “But I’m afraid some of her parade ideas are getting out of hand.”
Jesse’s bushy eyebrows arched.
“She’s talking dozens of floats, Dad. I don’t think our small street structure can handle that.”
“All it will take is some advance planning,” his dad said.
“Planning costs money.”
“Money that Mary’s going to make us back tenfold, according to your mom.”
“There’s no guarantee of that, and in the meantime…” Evan exhaled sharply. “Clark Creek is in a state of financial collapse.”
“Precisely why we need a miracle.” His dad walked around to the driver’s door on his truck, as though their conversation had ended. “I want you to be nice to this woman, son. Do your best to help her, because she’s working her hardest to help all of us.”
Evan could see he was getting nowhere. “She’s talking animal floats!” he tossed out in desperation. “More than one! Rescue cats and dogs from the shelter riding right down Main Street! Can you imagine anything so—”
“Beats those pigs your mom had running loose on the Fourth of July,” Jesse said with a chuckle. He climbed into the cab.
Evan grumbled when Jesse waved goodbye, and little Chloe did the same from the back seat. It was all well and good for his dad, mom, and the entire town council to be swept away by Mary’s glossy parade plans. But what if they didn’t work? In spite of businesses like Ken Larsen’s making generous contributions?