Jake still observed her. She felt his eyes on her.
Was he angry still? Would he give her another earful?
She had no idea.
What Faith did know was that Jake had always been able to tell what she was thinking before she even understood the thoughts. At one time, that had been endearing. Right now? Not so much.
“How’s Lucy?”
“Fine,” she said. “She’s still bummed about her missing snowman. I wish I could do something to help her. I guess her kids are pretty upset. I was thinking about talking to a few people.”
“Talking to a few people?”
Her throat burned as the truth of the situation—and how her efforts might be perceived—echoed in her mind. “Maybe.”
“You mean like . . . PIs or something?”
“No, I mean talking to people in the town. Asking them if they’ve seen anything. I think solving this mystery could help lift people’s spirits around here.”
“Wait.” A wrinkle formed between his eyes. “You want to investigate?”
She swallowed hard. “I want to do something to help this town. I want people to have some hope. Is that so bad?”
Jake shifted toward her, and Faith could sense a change in his attitude—from curious to wistful almost.
“No, that’s not bad. But Faith . . .” He glanced out the window, somberness washing over him.
“But what?”
He let out a long, burdened breath before turning toward her. “I know this sounds blunt, but I’ve come to the realization that sometimes the most merciful thing you can do is to let something die and end its suffering. We try to prolong things because they make us happy. Instead, we have to look at the big picture.”
His words caused Faith’s breath to catch. This couldn’t possibly be the same Jake she knew. He’d been so hopeful, optimistic. “Is that really how you see this town?”
Jake slowly released the air from his lungs. “I don’t want to say that. I really don’t. But sometimes, you just have to face the facts, you know?”
“What facts?”
“That this town needs to be put out of its misery. It’s the only kind thing to do.”
“Maybe it just needs to be re-invented.” She raised her chin. “My family created this crisis. I want to help fix it.”
“Finding some missing Christmas decorations would be nice, but I’m not sure how much it will fix.”
Jake needed to let her fix something. Couldn’t he understand that? “Listen, just let me do my thing, okay? I didn’t climb in here to ask permission or to beg you to help me. I just want to do this.”
Jake stared at her another moment, and Faith fully expected him to argue. Instead, he slowly nodded his head. “Okay then.”
She did a double take, uncertain if she’d heard him correctly. “Okay then?”
He shrugged, his gaze drifting back to the front glass. “If you want to try to make amends with people in this town, then who am I to stop you?”
Jake’s compliance threw her off, but finally Faith nodded. “Great then. I’d actually like to start with Mr. Foggerty.”
“You think it was Mr. Foggerty who stole the decorations?”
“The footprints looked like they were left by a man. Mr. Foggerty walks around town all the time. No one would think anything about him strolling down the street. Maybe he even grabbed a few things along the way.”
“So you’re going to question him?” Jake clarified.
After a moment of thought, Faith nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Do you mind if I come along?”
“You really want to?”
“Why not? Besides, I’m tired of giving out speeding tickets. Instead of making deposits into the town’s bank account, let’s make some deposits into people’s hearts.”
Five minutes later, Jake pulled up to Mr. Foggerty’s house. Like many homes in the area, his neighborhood cozied up to the downtown area. But unlike many houses, Mr. Foggerty’s had been neglected long before the factory closed down.
He didn’t like to cut his grass. The blue siding hadn’t been painted in decades. A board had been put up over a broken window.
Jake surprised himself when he’d volunteered to come with Faith. But maybe people would thaw out around her a little more if they saw her as a hero instead of a villain. Besides, his father was right. He did need to work on forgiving her.
He’d honor his promise to his dad and be kind—but he knew his relationship with Faith had reached the point of no return a long time ago. Besides, he thought it was cute that she wanted to help solve this. What did Faith think she could do to find the Christmas decoration thief that Jake hadn’t already done?
If he thought about it too much, Jake would probably realize Faith’s actions were motivated by guilt more than goodwill. He needed to remain cautious.
“Let’s do this,” Jake said. “It might be better if you let me do the talking.”
“I agree.”
Faith followed behind him as he walked to the door and knocked. Then they waited.
Mr. Foggerty jerked the door open a few seconds later and promptly scowled at Jake then at Faith.
“No one wants you here,” he spat, his eyes on Faith.
“I know,” she said quietly.
Jake stepped forward, feeling a surge of protectiveness he hadn’t expected. “Mr. Foggerty, we can all be civil.”
“What are you doing on my property?”
“I just came to ask you a few questions about the stolen Christmas decorations in the area,” Jake said.
Mr. Foggerty narrowed his eyes. “What about them?”
“Do you know anything about their disappearances?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, I know Mary Evans, Emmajean Gingham, and Lucy Johnson have all had things stolen. What else do you want to know?”
Jake held back his irritation. “Do you have any idea who might have taken them?”
“Not me.” He started to close the door.
Jake pushed his arm out to stop him and got right to the point. “Mr. Foggerty, you took the decorations, didn’t you?”
“Me?” He pointed his finger into his chest. “Why would I do that?”
“For the same reason you take cupcakes from the bakery.”
His face paled, making it clear he was both guilty and that he hadn’t expected to be caught. “Why would you think I did that?”
“Because people have seen you.”
“I wouldn’t do something like that. I have no need to steal.” He turned his nose up in the air.
“Then why are you doing it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jake watched the man’s expression. He was lying. His gaze was shifty. But earlier, when Jake had asked about the decorations, he’d had a dead stare.
“You mind if I walk around and double-check?” Jake asked.
“Feel free,” Mr. Foggerty said. “But I’ll have you know that the arthritis in my hands is so bad that I can barely pick up a fork. There’s no way I could have stolen those decorations. But look for yourself. You should both expect some coal for Christmas, you ungrateful brats.”
He slammed the door. But, just as quickly as it had closed, he opened it back up, a sheepish—but cranky—expression on his face.
“I guess you’ll need to come in,” he muttered before walking away and making it clear he wouldn’t be any more help.
This was going to be fun.
12
Jake was still shaking his head as he replayed his conversation with Mr. Foggerty. Had the man really threatened to give them coal? Yes, he had.
A memory meandered into his mind as they left the house. Memories of the last Christmas Extravaganza he’d spent with Faith. Of Mr. Foggerty warning them that Santa gave out coal for people who displayed too much affection in public.
A smile teased his lips as he remembered how happy he’d felt that night.
“I don’t think he did it,” Faith announc
ed when they climbed back into Jake’s SUV.
“You don’t?” Jake was interested in hearing her thoughts on why.
“I don’t, just based on his body language. He’s a miserable old man, but I think he has his own standards. I can’t understand why he’d steal cupcakes, though.” Faith frowned.
“I don’t think he has any extra money to buy any for himself. So Megan lets it slide.”
“Megan Conolly? I always liked her. That’s nice of her to overlook it.”
“She’s got a great heart.” Jake stopped at a stop sign and glanced at a text message on his phone. “It looks like the plumber is almost at my house. Do you mind if we stop by real quick?”
“Not at all.”
A few minutes later, they pulled up to Jake’s place. The one-story beige cottage was small, but it was just what he needed.
His throat burned when he realized Faith had never seen this place before. In fact, when he’d purchased it, he’d imagined the two of them getting married. Living here together one day.
That dream had never come to fruition.
He turned toward her, trying to cast aside the memories. “You’re welcome to wait here or you can come inside.”
“If you don’t mind, I need to return a few phone calls. If I go inside, I promise to stay out of your way.”
“Of course. Come on in.”
As they started toward his house, the plumber pulled up. Jake met the man halfway across his lawn. Jake’s pipes had frozen a few days ago, and this was the earliest someone could get out here to repair them.
Jake unlocked the door to his place, and Faith stepped inside. “Make yourself at home.”
She held up her phone and nodded. “Thanks.”
He joined the plumber again and explained the situation to him. As soon as the man disappeared into the crawlspace, Jake went inside and spotted Faith standing in the den, her gaze scanning the area.
When she heard him, she turned and offered a soft smile. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. I like it. It’s not fancy, but it’s enough.”
She continued to glance around, her forehead wrinkling with confusion. “Where’s your Christmas tree?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t put one up this year.”
“What? Why not?” Her voice squawked higher with surprise.
He shrugged again. “Wasn’t in the mood.”
“That’s not acceptable.”
“I just didn’t want to. I don’t know what else to say.”
Faith’s hands went to her hips, and she nodded as if her mind was made up. “Let’s go get a Christmas tree, Jake.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“There are some on my family’s farm. We can cut it ourselves and bring it back here.”
“Why would we want to do that?” The fact she cared so much baffled him.
Her smile slipped. “Because Jenny would have wanted it.”
His heart lurched. Faith was right. Jenny would have wanted this.
Jake remembered what he’d told his father. That he’d try to be civil. To forgive and to find some Christmas spirt.
Besides, what could it hurt to put up a Christmas tree? He nodded. “Fine. We’ll get a Christmas tree. But only for Jenny’s sake.”
Faith smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. Not even a satisfied smile. No, the action looked bittersweet with echoes of deep-set grief. “For Jenny’s sake.”
Faith pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as the snow began to float down from above. It was definitely chilly out here. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and glanced around. Everywhere she looked, it was a winter wonderland.
This property had been her granddad’s haven—there was nowhere else he’d rather be than out here among the chestnut trees. He’d spout all the facts he knew about the nut, beaming with pride as he did.
“Your granddad grew Christmas trees?” Jake asked as he walked alongside her on the snow-laden lane that cut through the property.
“Yes, he always grew about fifty of them. Way back when, my granddad would give a free Christmas tree to each of his employees. He discovered it was cheaper just to grow them himself. The tradition faded, but the trees are still there.”
“You really want me to put up a tree, don’t you?”
“It just seems so sad if you don’t.”
As movement caught her eye in the distance, she paused. About a half mile up the lane, she thought she’d seen someone duck behind a tree. Was someone else out here on her family’s property?
Faith squinted.
“That man . . . why is he on this property? I think he had a camera.”
He stiffened and followed her gaze. “Do you recognize him?”
“No, not at all.”
Jake put his axe down. “Let me go check it out.”
Before Faith could argue, Jake took off in a run toward the man.
And as soon as the man saw Jake, he took off running also.
13
Jake darted toward the man. Was he the one behind all the crimes around here? Who was responsible for vandalizing Faith’s tires? For stealing the decorations?
He didn’t get a good look at the man, but he didn’t think he’d seen him before.
Jake’s boots thudded against the packed snow as he raced downhill. Trees blurred past him. Snow slapped his exposed skin. Wind whipped his face.
As the man turned to head into a thick patch of trees, Jake nearly slid to a stop. He righted himself and cut through the grove.
The man had too much of a head start, though. The good news was that out here, Jake could follow the footprints. He followed the trail the man left behind, determined to catch him and get some answers. Cold air heaved into his lungs and nipped at his nose. He didn’t care—he only wanted answers.
A strange sound filled his ears—a noise foreign to this peaceful stretch of mountain.
A slam.
Jake sprinted several more feet and stopped in time to see a silver pickup pull away.
There must have been a service road out here on the other side of the grove.
Before Jake could see the license plate, the vehicle disappeared from sight.
It was too late. The man had gotten away. But no way was Jake going to let this drop.
Faith paced as she waited for Jake to return. She hadn’t intended on sending him after that man. It was just so strange that the guy appeared to be taking pictures.
Who was he?
Finally, she spotted Jake in the distance . . . alone. His stormy expression made it clear he wasn’t happy.
She quickened her steps to meet him and hear an update. Her breath frosted in front of her as she asked, “What happened?”
“He got away. Had a truck waiting on the service road through the farm.”
“I didn’t even think people knew about those roads.” She shivered, maybe from the cold or maybe from the trespasser. She wasn’t sure.
“People know more about this property than you think,” he said. “A lot of people in town worked on this farm.”
“That’s true . . .” Faith swallowed hard. “I’m sorry you couldn’t catch him.”
“He had too much of a head start. But I’m going to keep my eyes wide open.”
Faith raised the axe from the ground. “You still feel like cutting a tree?”
He took the tool from her and rested it on his shoulder.
Faith’s breath caught at the sight of him. Snow clung to his barely there beard and stocking cap. His flannel jacket showed off his broad shoulders. He was even more handsome now than he’d been back when she was in college.
He flashed a smile. “Let’s do it.”
Silently, they walked beside each other toward the patch of Christmas trees. The day couldn’t be any more beautiful. It was chilly outside but still bright. The snow that now fell from the sky was light and dainty.
Faith’s mind drifted back in time. She’d walked this area so many times before. She’d played in these
trees and run down these hills.
My marron, her grandfather had called her. That was the name used for what was generally known as the sweetest and best of all chestnuts.
Those days had been so perfect, so simple.
She paused as her old childhood home came into view, and her heart seemed to leap into her throat.
Jake paused beside her. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?”
She nodded, still feeling the tension in her shoulders. “Yes, it is.”
Part of the house was black from the small fire. There was also some graffiti on the walls, a shutter was falling off, and the whole place just looked like it was dying.
“You ever think about fixing this place up?” Jake asked.
She shook her head. “It’s not mine to fix up. My dad still owns it.”
“I’m surprised he’s holding on to it.”
“So am I. I thought he wanted to cut all ties with this town and run.”
“Maybe there’s a part of him that still finds some joy in his memories here.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
Shoving her hands back into her pockets, she took a step away when she noticed the arch above her. An arch filled with mistletoe. Her dad had built it for her mom when they’d first got married and moved here.
Faith’s throat went dry.
This was also where Jake had first kissed Faith.
The memory caused her cheeks to burn.
It had been such a sweet, tender moment. Her first kiss with the man of her dreams. She’d thought life couldn’t get any better. Jake had tenderly pushed her hair back from her face, called her a marron—not knowing her grandfather had also called her that—and he’d gently pressed his lips into hers.
As she looked up at Jake now, she saw the memory flash in his eyes also.
Did he regret their time together? Wish he could erase it from his memory? She had no idea.
But maybe all of this had been a bad idea.
14
The memories hit Jake. Memories of standing here all those years ago. Images of Faith. She’d been younger, more innocent, and more unscathed by the world. Her eyes had been so hopeful as she’d looked up at him.
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