Home to Chestnut Grove

by Christy Barritt

  “Perfect. I’ll see you at six thirty then.” Ms. Gingham took a step away but paused and turned back. “I realize this is none of my business, but does Jake know you’re in town?”

  At the mention of Jake’s name, Faith’s throat tightened. “No, he doesn’t.”

  With a solemn nod, Ms. Gingham departed, softly closing the door behind her and leaving Faith standing there surrounded by silence.

  Jake . . . Faith hadn’t spoken with him in more than two years . . . until he’d called a month ago. At the end of their conversation, he’d made it undeniably clear to Faith that he never wanted to see her again.

  She already knew that most of the town hated her anyway. The change she’d once feared had come to fruition. She’d gone from being the town sweetheart to being someone they despised. She had the emails to prove it.

  Despite that, she’d had no choice but to come.

  For Jenny’s sake.

  Because, despite what Jake thought about Faith, a promise was a promise.

  Just as the thought echoed with resolve through her mind, a scream filled the air outside.

  Faith released the handle of her suitcase and started toward the stairs, wondering exactly what was going on. Most of all, she prayed Ms. Gingham was okay.

  Sheriff Jake Whitmore waved at a few locals as he cruised through historic Chestnut Grove in his SUV. Several people were out on the sidewalks, despite the cold. Most likely they were running errands to the post office or the small grocery store on the corner or maybe even the bakery in town.

  Jake would be remiss if he didn’t admit that their smiles just weren’t as bright as they used to be. He understood the feeling. Ever since Jenny had died a month ago, nothing felt the same in his life. Her infectious joy had been one of the bright spots in his day. At times, Jake felt like an empty shell of the person he’d once been.

  The whole community seemed to share the sentiment, only the town had different reasons.

  Chestnut Grove used to thrive during the holidays. December and all its festivities had been their crowning glory. But the decorations were beginning to age. There was no money to buy new ones, and most people didn’t seem to have the energy to care.

  Ever since Blitz’s Candy Factory—their primary business in the area—had shut down just over two years ago, things had taken a turn for the worse. The town just wasn’t the same without the scent of caramel-covered chestnuts floating through the air. At one time, the whole community seemed to be covered with the same sugary glaze that coated the treats.

  Jake knew all too well that if a new industry didn’t move into town soon, he wouldn’t have a job. This town couldn’t survive without a way to offer employment to its residents. Soon, it would become like the Ghost of Christmas Past.

  Maybe it would be better that way. Maybe getting away from this place and all of its memories would be the only way he would ever truly heal after losing his sister.

  His radio crackled. “Sheriff, we’ve got a reported theft over at the Chestnut Inn.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  He turned toward Ms. Gingham’s place. Several minutes later, he parked and strode across the crunchy snow toward the door. As he did, his eyes traveled to a car in the lot at the left of the house.

  Ms. Gingham had a guest. He hoped the visitor hadn’t been the one to start this trouble. At least the inn had some business. Jake couldn’t remember the last time this town had a visitor.

  Jake strode up the front porch, where Ms. Gingham stood with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Instead of her normal smile, her lips pulled downward with worry.

  “Ms. Gingham, I just got the call. Is everything okay?”

  Ms. Gingham shrugged. “I came out here to get the newspaper, and I noticed my Christmas train is gone.”

  He glanced through the decorations in her front yard and came to a stop at an empty patch of grass that had been untouched by the snow. Footprints led away from the area toward the sidewalk along the street.

  “When was the last time you saw the train?” he asked, vaguely remembering the blow-mold lawn decoration.

  “The whole thing? Just an hour ago, if not less. I was inside for a bit before coming back out here. That’s when I noticed the train was gone.”

  “Any idea how much this train was worth?”

  “Well, it was priceless. To me, at least. It’s been in my family for years.”

  “You think someone just walked up and took it?” Jake clarified. The action would be pretty brazen in broad daylight.

  “I thought certain pieces of it were missing over the past week,” Ms. Gingham said. “But I also worried that I might be losing my mind. Now I realize that I’m clearly not. That train has been a part of Christmas here at the inn for at least four decades. I can’t stand the thought of someone destroying it.”

  “Did your guest see anything?”

  A strange look crossed Ms. Gingham’s eyes, one that Jake couldn’t read. “My guest?”

  Just as she said the words, the front door opened. A woman in a white coat with stunning dark-brown hair and red lipstick stepped onto the porch.

  “Ms. Gingham, are you sure that blanket is enough to keep you warm—” The woman’s words froze so quickly they nearly shattered in the air.

  Jake’s heart skipped a beat when he realized who was here.

  Faith Winters.

  She was back.

  Here in Chestnut Grove.

  The air left his lungs at the sight of her.

  “Faith . . .” he muttered, temporarily swept back in time.

  His surprise quickly hardened as grief, disappointment, and hurt pummeled him. He’d almost forgotten how badly Faith had wounded him. Why in the world was she here now? Why not a month ago?

  He swallowed hard as he fought to remain civil. “Why in the name of all that’s red and green did you come back into town?”

  Faith pulled her coat closer around her neck, barely concealing her flinch. Her voice came out soft and hesitant as she said, “Hello to you also, Jake.”

  His jaw tightened. “You shouldn’t be here, Faith.”

  “Jake!” Ms. Gingham muttered, her voice laced with dismay.

  He took a step back, determined to keep his professional demeanor in check—as well as his heartache. It was better to walk away before he said something he regretted.

  “I need to look into this missing Christmas train,” he finally muttered. “If you’ll excuse me . . .”

  Before anyone could respond, he strode toward the empty patch of soggy grass. He desperately needed something to distract him from the fact that the woman who’d broken his heart in more ways than one had come back. Seeing her was the last thing he needed while dealing with his grief.

  2

  Faith felt her cheeks heat as she watched Jake walk away. She’d deserved the admonition from him. She couldn’t deny it. Still, the terse conversation and harsh words had stung.

  You shouldn’t be here, Faith.

  Maybe she shouldn’t. She’d told herself that a million times and had almost been convinced she should go somewhere new, somewhere different. But she’d never be able to start over until she made amends here.

  Ms. Gingham turned toward her, an apologetic look on her face as they stood on the porch watching Jake. “He’s just sad. Losing his sister has been hard on him. Jake didn’t mean what he said.”

  Faith frowned. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was the importance of owning up to her mistakes. Life had humbled her in ways she’d never anticipated over the past few years. She’d come back to Chestnut Grove a different person than she’d been when she left.

  Different good or different bad? That remained to be seen.

  “Yes, Jake did mean what he said.” Faith shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I messed up, Ms. Gingham. I should have been here for Jenny’s funeral. She was one of my best friends, and . . . I should have tried harder.”

  Jenny had developed heart problems .
. . and, one day, her heart stopped working. At twenty-five years old, she was gone.

  Her funeral had been a month ago, but Faith hadn’t been able to make it. That decision would haunt her for the rest of her life. And it was one for which Jake would never forgive her.

  Ms. Gingham tilted her head, warmth and compassion oozing from her. “It was opening night for your new show. Jenny would have understood the scheduling conflict.”

  The memories nipped at Faith as they had every day for the past month.

  “But I should have had my priorities in better order. I should have been here.” Faith’s voice cracked with regret, and she looked away.

  Faith couldn’t have this conversation right now. She needed to retain her composure long enough to take care of some business. “If you’ll excuse me a minute, Ms. Gingham . . . I actually have to go into town for a meeting. I don’t want to be late.”

  “Of course, of course. Go! I’ll be fine.”

  Faith didn’t want Ms. Gingham to try to make her feel better. Faith deserved her guilt. She deserved the cold reaction from Jake.

  Everything she’d done—all the sacrifices she’d made—they’d all been in vain. She’d sacrificed the wrong things. No one knew that better than Faith did.

  She cast one more glance at Jake as she walked toward her car. Right now, he bent to examine Ms. Gingham’s yard. As he did, his pant legs lifted slightly and Faith spotted bright green socks beneath his uniform.

  Despite herself, she smiled. Bittersweet memories hit her. The man still liked his colorful socks. Some things never changed.

  He was also still as handsome as ever. Tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and the beginning of a beard. He wore his sheriff’s uniform well. Even more so, he looked like he belonged here.

  He did belong. He belonged here in Chestnut Grove.

  That was something that would never be said about Faith again, and it wasn’t just because she’d missed Jenny’s funeral. It was because of what her family had done to this town.

  Jake’s mind still reeled as he photographed the footprints leading to the sidewalk and away from the spot where Ms. Gingham’s Christmas train had once sat.

  The last time he’d seen Faith, they’d said goodbye to each other. They’d realized that despite all their determination, a relationship between them just wasn’t feasible anymore. He’d stayed strong in front of Faith, but he’d been heartbroken on the ride back to Chestnut Grove from New York.

  They’d spoken with each other a few times on the phone, and on occasion Jenny had given him updates. But he’d known to keep his distance if he wanted to keep his sanity.

  Initially, Jake had tried to keep up with what plays Faith had been cast in. He’d followed the news and reviews and social media updates on the rising starlet with roots in small-town America.

  But when Jenny died . . . everything changed.

  Jake just didn’t care anymore.

  The apathy was long overdue. He should have forgotten about Faith when they’d broken up two and a half years ago. It would have been the logical thing.

  But one didn’t simply get over losing someone like Faith Winters. He’d been in love with her since elementary school when he’d climbed up to her bedroom window and proclaimed he was going to marry her.

  When Faith had actually agreed to go out with him her junior year, he’d felt like the luckiest man in the world. He still regretted how things had changed. But the trajectory of their lives had gone in different directions, and no one could deny it.

  But still . . . it was one thing to hurt him and an entirely different thing to hurt Jenny.

  “So . . . do you have any idea who did this?”

  Jake nearly jumped at the sweet voice behind him. He straightened when he saw Ms. Gingham standing there, waiting for his response. He’d gotten distracted with his thoughts of Faith and had nearly forgotten about the crime scene.

  “It looks like the footprints end at the street,” he finally said. “I’ll drive around town, talk to some people, see if anyone saw anything.”

  “That would be great. I heard Mary Evans had a lawn decoration disappear also.”

  It was true. This was the third theft of this sort in town over the past two weeks. “It seems like someone is determined to be the Grinch here in town and steal people’s Christmas joy. It’s hard to imagine what would drive a person to do that.”

  Ms. Gingham shook her head, years of wisdom pooling in her eyes. “You never know what hurts a person might be hiding beneath what’s perceived as bad behavior.”

  Her words landed on Jake’s mind, but he couldn’t fully process them right now—or maybe he didn’t want to. He wasn’t yet ready to give Faith the benefit of the doubt.

  “I’ll see what I can figure out about your missing train.” Jake took a step back to his car before she could bestow any more nuggets of wisdom.

  “Jake?” Ms. Gingham called.

  He turned, fully knowing what she was about to say. “Yes?”

  “Don’t be too hard on her.”

  Faith. He knew good and well whom she was talking about. But Ms. Gingham’s words were too simple. She couldn’t possibly understand the scope of his and Faith’s history or the deep wounds that lingered beneath the surface.

  “There are some hurts that feel too big to forgive,” he said quietly.

  “Sometimes you think you know the whole story, but you don’t.”

  The whole story? Jake couldn’t imagine what else there could be to this story. He’d defended Faith. He’d made excuses for her.

  But when Faith hadn’t shown up for his sister’s funeral . . . his sister, Faith’s best friend and one of the most important people in the world to her . . . he knew he was done.

  For the past few years, he’d stood up for Faith. Even after they’d broken up. Even after what her family had done to this town.

  But it turned out that Faith was just like her father. She didn’t think about anyone but herself. He hadn’t wanted to believe she’d changed so much, but he could no longer ignore those facts.

  All of her candy-apple-red lipstick, sweet-smelling perfume, and charismatic smiles wouldn’t do anything to change those cold, hard facts.

  3

  Fifteen minutes later, Faith pulled to a stop in front of the Chestnut Grove Community School. Grades K through twelve all met in the fifty-year-old, three-story brick structure. Her mom had even been a student here.

  Faith stared at it for another moment, memories sweeping over her.

  She, Jake, and Jenny had been quite the trio here—at least, they had been up until Jake had graduated a year ahead of them.

  Faith smiled as she remembered standing in this exact spot with Jenny on their last day of senior year. Jenny’s eyes had sparkled as they’d talked about their futures. Faith would be leaving to attend college an hour from here, up near Charlottesville. She’d double major in theater arts—her heart’s true desire—and business, a request of her father’s. He’d hoped Faith would come back and help with the family business one day.

  Jenny, on the other hand, was going to stay in Chestnut Grove and work at the candy factory, like most of the people in town.

  “You’re going to make it big for both of us,” Jenny had said that day.

  “Me? You really think I can make it on Broadway?” The stage had always been Faith’s dream, ever since the first time she’d taken ballet class at four years old. The desire had only grown through every voice lesson and acting class and audition for local theater.

  Jenny grinned, her round face rosy and lit with joy—and hope. She’d had such an unwavering confidence in Faith’s talents. When a person found someone who believed in her that much, she held onto them.

  “I know you can, Faith,” Jenny had said. “And, when you do, you’re going to collect playbills for me, and I’m going to come visit you in New York, and I’m going to feel like a star.”

  “You’re already a star in my book. But first I have to go to
college. Then I’ll go to New York. Maybe you could come with me?” Faith’s life had always been so much better with Jenny by her side. Her friend brought a fresh perspective that made life richer, fuller.

  Jenny made a face. “No, it might be my dream, but it could never be my life. I want to stay here, near my family.”

  Faith’s heart had pounded in her ears. Part of her wanted to stay also. She craved the comfort of her hometown. Of being near Jenny. Of staying near Jake.

  The memory shattered as soon as she remembered Jake.

  This wasn’t a time to bemoan her broken relationship with him. This was the time to celebrate her friend’s life. Jenny’s life.

  A tear escaped and trickled down Faith’s cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

  Hearing footsteps behind her, she glanced down the sidewalk.

  Marshall Foggerty headed toward her. Faith had wondered if the man was still in town. If he still gave out coal to people at Christmas whom he considered troublemakers. If he still filed complaints with the town if people walked past his home talking or laughing too loudly.

  She started to wave. But, before she could, his eyes met hers. Mr. Foggerty scowled and turned up his nose, leaving no mistake as to what he was thinking. He shook his head, disgust dripping from his eyes at the sight of Faith.

  Her heart leapt into her throat.

  Certainly most of the town shared that sentiment. Faith wasn’t surprised—but the hurt she felt affected her more than she’d anticipated. Still, she was determined to keep her chin up. The hard things in life were the things that helped a person grow.

  Gathering her courage, Faith stepped inside the school building. Classes were already out for the day, so no students should be here. But Mrs. Duvall should be.

  Mrs. Duvall was Faith’s old theater arts teacher. The woman’s father had also been friends with Faith’s grandfather. The two men had worked together and had a great deal of respect for each other.

  As soon as her heels hit the vinyl floor, Faith was swept back in time. The scent of fresh paper, pungent cleaning solution, and soggy french fries filled her senses. Inside, the place looked the same—except everything seemed older. It seemed to be a theme in town.