“It’s not your fault, you know.”
“It feels like my fault.” People had made it clear at that time that they blamed Faith. They’d sent her angry emails. They’d posted hateful things on social media. Several people had stopped talking to her altogether. The few who’d stuck by her had proven their loyalty.
“But it wasn’t,” Mrs. Duvall said. “Just know that. I can see the guilt in your eyes. It’s unnecessary.”
“Most of the people here will never forgive me. You should see people when I walk past. Families pull their kids closer like I’m a serial killer or something.”
“It will just take time.” Mrs. Duvall’s gaze changed, like her thoughts had shifted. “You know, maybe it’s not as much that the people here haven’t forgiven you. Maybe it’s that you need to forgive your father.”
Faith sucked in a quick breath. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I know this whole thing fractured your relationship. You blame him for the fact that people blame you. Maybe it all starts with forgiving him.”
Faith nodded slowly as the words sank in. “Maybe.”
They paced a few more steps before pausing in front of the stage.
“I know that coming back here has been hard—maybe one of the hardest things you’ve ever done,” Mrs. Duvall said. “But I’ve always known you were brave, Faith. It takes someone with courage to go to New York and pursue her dreams. To audition. To put herself out there in front of thousands of people.”
“When you’re humiliated, it’s hard to see yourself as being brave.” Faith’s words weren’t meant to stir sympathy—they were simply the raw truth.
“You’re right. It is. And when the critics go public and you hear people whispering, it’s even harder.” Mrs. Duvall squeezed her arm compassionately. “But you’re stronger than your harshest critic, bolder than the rudest fan, and you absolutely deserve all the good things life wants to throw at you, despite what your father did.”
“Thank you. That . . . that means a lot.” Faith paused. “Can I ask you one more question?”
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Jenny was dying?” Faith’s words rang across the room. “I had no idea things were so serious.”
Mrs. Duvall let out a long breath and looked off into the distance, as if traveling back to another time. “Because Jenny asked me not to. I wanted to. I did. But she was adamant. She didn’t want to see anything get in the way of your dreams.”
“But why?”
“Because your dreams were her dreams. You were living them for the both of you, and nothing brought her more joy. She knew you’d come here if you knew. So she begged me to stay quiet.”
Faith could see Jenny doing that. She nodded, more pieces of the puzzle falling into place.
Mrs. Duvall patted Faith’s hand and then straightened, getting back to business. “Now, I think we’ve got some work to do. We should probably get busy. But I promise—we’ll have more time to talk later.”
Jake took one last glance around his house before leaving for work.
To look at the small cottage, one couldn’t even tell that Christmas was approaching. He’d decided not to decorate this year.
Not without Jenny.
At the thought of his sister, his conversation with Faith slammed back into his mind. Dear Lord, help me to love Faith like I should. I didn’t expect to see her again. I was trying to move on, and now I have to deal with the past, and I don’t know what to do.
With a shake of his head, he closed his door behind him and went out to his SUV. He needed to go into the office, but first he’d stop by the bakery and ask Megan about the cupcake incident with Mr. Foggerty.
Sadly, Jake wouldn’t put it past the man to do something like that. It seemed inconsequential when he considered other problems going on in town. But the issue still needed to be addressed.
Besides, it would give Jake something to do—something other than thinking about Faith. He’d let down his guard yesterday and had almost, at times, enjoyed being with Faith. Big mistake.
He parked on Main Street and strode into the Flour Girl bakery. This place was a jewel in the area. Megan, whom Jake had gone to school with, had done a great job with her business. Megan, with her hippy-like vibes and organic ingredients, was a force to be reckoned with.
“Hey, Sheriff.” Megan placed some cookies into a countertop case, her tall, wispy figure towering over the top of the display. “What brings you in here? A chestnut-sprinkled donut with caramel?”
“I wish.” He patted his stomach. “But I’m afraid I’ve eaten too many sweets lately.”
“Well, you can’t tell. You were blessed with the Whitmore physique. Your dad comes in here every day and eats a donut. He never looks like he’s gained a pound.”
Jack couldn’t argue with her assessment. He dropped his arm from his flat belly. “Good to know. I actually have another question for you. Do you have a minute?”
She glanced around. No one else was in the shop. “I have all the time in the world. What do you need?”
He stepped closer to the counter. “Listen, Timmy said he saw Mr. Foggerty come here a few days ago and steal a cupcake. You know anything about it?”
Megan frowned and swiped one of her long, honey-blonde strands of hair behind her ear. “Know anything about it? Hmm . . . maybe.”
Her tone didn’t sound overly concerned. “What are you trying to say, Megan?”
She shrugged and began wiping down the counter. “He comes in on occasion and takes one of the treats from the day-old tray.”
She pointed to a galvanized display featuring plastic-wrapped treats that were no longer fresh. There were cupcakes, some banana bread slices, several pieces of fudge, and a few donuts.
“Without paying?” Jake clarified.
“Without paying. But it’s not a big deal.”
“Stealing is a big deal,” he reminded her.
“The man needs some sunshine in his life. I heard he doesn’t have any money, and he eats canned soup every day for lunch and dinner.”
“But that doesn’t justify stealing.”
Megan paused and leaned toward him. “I know what you’re getting at. But I’m not pressing charges. I would just throw the cupcakes away anyway if they didn’t sell.”
“Stuff like this can start small and turn into—”
She raised a hand. “I know what you’re saying. But I’ve chosen to turn my back on it. He’s too proud to ask for a handout. I figure maybe some sweets will soften the old grump. I just pretend I don’t see what he’s doing.”
Jake took a step back and nodded. Megan wouldn’t budge. And he could appreciate her viewpoint. He really could.
But it did make him wonder if Mr. Foggerty might be the one behind these other crimes in town.
10
After working hard for the past four hours, Faith leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.
Everything was still coming together. Twenty-three people had now confirmed that they’d be here tomorrow morning to begin rehearsing for the concert. The rehearsals would take place for most of the day until the actual concert. The quick turnaround wasn’t ideal, but Faith felt confident they could pull this off.
Mrs. Duvall had found overnight accommodations for everyone who wanted to stay in town. With those details confirmed, the two of them had practiced the music. Mrs. Duvall would be accompanying the choir on the piano, and Faith had also put together some slides that would be shown on the screen.
As her to-do list dwindled, an idea pressed on Faith. This town blamed her for what her father had done.
She needed to do something about it. Something bigger than this choir.
Was it possible that she could somehow help restore the Christmas spirit here? The spirit that had once been so strong and vibrant?
She was going to have to walk by faith if she was going to make this work. But it was worth a shot.
Faith sat at an old desk in Mrs.
Duvall’s classroom. Back when Faith had been a student here, the theater arts room also doubled as their humanities classroom. One day, Jenny had met Faith here after school.
Jenny had worn her favorite bright green outfit, green fingernail polish, and green shoes. Faith smiled at the memory of her stylish friend.
They were getting ready to perform The Princess and the Pea for the end of the year musical. Faith was playing Princess Priscilla and Jenny Queen Sarsaparilla. Working together on stage had been fun.
“I want you to marry Jake one day,” Jenny had announced. “I want you to be my sister.”
Faith had paused from gathering her books and papers. “We can always be like sisters, whether or not Jake and I get married.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to marry Jake?”
Faith had smiled. “I didn’t say that. But I’m only seventeen.”
“He practically glows when he talks about you.”
Faith’s pulse quickened at her words. “You think?”
“I do. You make him happy.”
“He makes me happy.”
“I don’t want things to change.” Jenny’s smile had faded.
Faith had reached forward to grab her hand. “I don’t either. But, unfortunately, things in life never stay the same for long.”
Faith’s mind drifted back to the present. Drifted back to everything she’d learned about this town and how the people here were suffering. She thought about the old factory. About the inn. About Ms. Gingham’s cookies and latte.
There had to be a way to give this community new life.
An idea began to percolate in Faith’s mind. Maybe she could use that business degree her dad had made her get, after all. Off the top of her head, she could think of at least three things she could do to make things better.
She sucked in a deep breath.
Could she really pull this all off? She didn’t know. But it was worth a try.
Faith pulled out her phone and began making some phone calls .
When she was done, satisfaction washed through her. Maybe she could finally make it up to people here for what her father had done. Her dream was big. Then, again, she’d always been a dreamer.
If you don’t reach for the stars, you never know how high you might soar. That was what her granddad always told her. Her granddad was one of the wisest people Faith had ever met, and she still missed him to this day.
He was possibly the greatest loss this town had ever faced. If he was still with them, the factory would have never been sold. People would still have jobs. Families would still be intact.
But there was one other thing that needed to be done. Faith wanted to figure out who was acting like Scrooge here in town. Who was stealing the Christmas decorations and making this bad situation worse? It was like kicking someone when they were down.
Faith didn’t claim to be a detective or even good at finding answers like these. But some kind of fire lit inside her, and she knew this was something she needed to do. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Jake was capable. But he seemed so busy after being tasked to meet a certain number of speeding tickets this season.
Jake’s revelation hadn’t surprised her. Mayor Ernest had always been a nervous, worrisome man. He liked to twirl his extra-long eyebrows whenever he felt anxious—which was most of the time. His eyes made him appear always deep in thought, as if he was calculating shortages, almost like a father worried about paying a mortgage.
But focusing on speeding tickets? That was just further evidence of how downhill things were going.
“Jenny, I want to do this. Not just for you, but for this whole town,” Faith whispered. “I can’t stand seeing how everyone is so sad.”
She said the words into the air, knowing no one was listening. But somehow, Faith knew Jenny was.
Faith was going to do this.
So far, she knew that a snowman had been stolen from Lucy’s place. She also knew that Ms. Gingham’s train had disappeared. If Faith asked around, she could probably find out who else had been a victim of this Christmas thief.
Faith would start by talking to Lucy.
As the day drew on, Jake found himself loosening up—just a little.
He’d intended on investigating the thefts of Christmas decorations more, but he’d gotten a call about some cows that got out on one side of town and a fender bender on the other side. Those two incidents had taken up most of his day.
He wanted to go back to his office and catch up on paperwork, but instead he decided to patrol the area and maybe clear his head. His dad called and asked to ride along.
Jake pulled to a stop in front of his parents’ home, and his dad climbed into the passenger seat with two cups of coffee in hand. Jake welcomed some caffeine.
“How’s it going today, Son?”
“I can’t complain.”
“Is that true?”
Jake shrugged. “Well, sometimes I want to, but despite how I feel, I know I have a lot to be grateful for.”
“Yes, you do.”
Jake set his coffee into the cupholder and pulled away from the curb, wishing he could just as easily pull away from this conversation. He knew where it was going.
“Mrs. Duvall called yesterday and said this year’s Christmas performance would be a memorial to Jenny.”
Jake’s jaw tightened. “I heard.”
“Why do you sound upset?”
He stole a glance at his father. “Why aren’t you more upset?”
“I think the idea sounds nice.”
Jake did a quick head shake, certain he hadn’t heard his father correctly. “Don’t you think the timing is suspicious?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Faith apparently bombed out at the show she was supposed to headline. Now she comes here and in some grand gesture of kindness wants to honor Jenny by using all her theatrical experience.”
“Who says that’s not true?”
“I just think Jenny’s sickness and death showed Faith’s true colors. It’s hard for me to move past it.”
His father turned toward him. “Son, do you remember when you were in eighth grade and you decided that your sister embarrassed you?”
His cheeks heated at the memory. “I do.”
“Who was it that taught you that Jenny was a blessing not an embarrassment?”
Jake didn’t want to answer, but he did anyway. “Faith.”
“Faith believed in Jenny when no one else did. She showed you how to be a better man. That takes a special person.”
“She should have come home.”
“You’ve got to learn to forgive. It would have been easy for Jenny not to forgive you for the way you acted at times.”
Jake couldn’t deny his words. “You’re right.”
“I’m just saying maybe you need to find some Christmas spirit.”
Jake remained quiet for a minute before saying, “It’s my job to protect this town. The last thing I want is for Faith to come in here and wreak havoc. Get people upset again. People are trying to recover from all their losses . . . they’re trying to move forward.”
“Are you trying to protect this town or your own heart?”
Jake chomped down. Maybe the correct answer was both, but he wasn’t ready to admit that.
“Would you make an effort to be kind to Faith?” his dad asked. “For me and your mother? Consider it a Christmas gift. We’ve had enough drama in our lives. Now, we just want some peace.”
Jake sighed. His first impulse was to say no. But this was his dad . . . the dad who’d just lost a daughter. Who would move heaven and earth to help Jake if he ever needed him.
He loved his father too much to deny the request. With a tight throat, Jake answered, “Sure.”
“Great.” His father nodded up ahead. “Now, drop me off up here at Frank’s. We’re going to play dominoes together and try to solve all the world’s problems.”
Jake didn’t ask questions. He let his father out, their conv
ersation still playing in his head. Maybe his father was right. Maybe he should give Faith the benefit of the doubt. Though part of him didn’t think she deserved the mercy, another part of him knew he didn’t deserve such kindness either—yet people had extended it to him in the past.
Still, it would take effort. Every ounce of his self-control, for that matter. Giving Faith a chance didn’t mean they would be friends again. It just meant Jake would let go of this grudge he felt against her—for now.
His phone rang, and he answered. It was Mr. Jameson telling him Faith’s car was ready.
Jake’s muscles tightened. It looked like Jake was going to have the opportunity to put his promise to his father into action.
11
Just as Faith was leaving Lucy’s, she saw a familiar SUV pull up on the street outside the house.
Jake. What was he doing here? Had he come to reprimand her?
He rolled down his window and leaned across the seat toward her, his brown eyes shaded with caution. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
She bent down to see him better through the window, their last conversation still fresh in her mind. “I was just visiting.”
His gaze showed he didn’t quite believe her. “Is that right?”
“It is.”
He glanced behind her at Lucy’s house then down the icy sidewalk. “You want a ride? I heard your car is ready. I can drop you off.”
Maybe riding with Jake would give her the chance to clear the tension between them. Either way, what did she have to lose? Besides, she needed to get her car.
“Sure, if you don’t mind, I’d love a ride,” she finally said.
“Hop in.”
Warmth surrounded Faith as soon as she closed the door to Jake’s SUV. His familiar scent—evergreen—filled her senses and tried to sweep her back in time. Times when she’d hopped into his truck after school and cruised down the mountain roads with the windows open. She’d felt like they had their whole lives ahead of them.
She closed her eyes. She couldn’t let herself get lost in Jake’s smell, in the warm memories from the past.
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