The Christmas Promise

by Janice Carter

  Yesterday he’d met with Harold and the execs from Harbor Lights Supply. As Ben had guessed, neither company wanted the publicity or hassle of laying criminal charges against their employees. Their lawyers assured them a resolution of dismissal without references was not uncommon in the corporate world. The losses had proven to be relatively minor but obviously could have mounted if not for Glen’s scrutiny and, especially, that of the Harbor Lights temp employee, who most likely now had a permanent position.

  When he opened the front door of his family home, he was immediately assailed by the familiar aromas of childhood Christmases: the sharp tang of pine from the Christmas tree and branches on the stairway banisters, and the heady smells of his mother’s baking—shortbread, he hoped, his mouth watering. He hung up his coat, removed his boots and paused in the entryway, sniffing a spicier fragrance. Hints of cinnamon, clove and nutmeg led him into the kitchen, where he found Ella hovering over a steaming pot. She swung round, her face flushed from the kitchen’s heat, her smile the best part of an already magnificent day.

  “Is that what I think it is?” He pointed to the pot on the burner behind her. “Plum pudding?”

  Dropping the pot holder in her hand, Ella moved into his arms. “It is. I was just checking the water level in the bottom section of the steamer. How did the meeting go?”

  “It’s a done deal.” He grinned, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Oh, Ben, that’s wonderful. You must be so happy. Congratulations!”

  “Well, still awaiting confirmation from Portland National Bank for the loan, but I think that’ll be a yes, too.”

  She tightened her hold on him. “Yay!”

  “Good news?”

  Ben turned to see his mother in the kitchen doorway. “The condo project is a go.”

  “Wonderful! Go tell your father. He’s been on tenterhooks all morning. I need to take the shortbread out of the oven, and then Ella is making lunch for us.” She smiled at Ella.

  “She is?” Ben grinned as Ella slipped out of his arms and headed for the island counter, where he suddenly noticed an array of vegetables and seafood.

  “Don’t get too excited. It’s my first attempt at a Nakamura recipe. From The Daily Catch cookbook you gave me,” she prompted at his puzzled expression. “I brought it back from Boston.”

  “Seafood chowder?” His stomach rumbled.

  “Yep. Evelyn had a stock of frozen clams and shrimp in the freezer.”

  “Butter biscuits, too?”

  Both women laughed at the excitement in his voice.

  “That’s your mother’s territory, though I’m hoping she’ll share the recipe,” Ella teased, smiling at Evelyn.

  Ben didn’t know when or how this new relationship between his mother and Ella had blossomed, but over the past few days since the storm, he’d felt the tension easing. There was some hesitation at physical contact, he’d noticed. Their hugs were quick but warm, and smiles were frequent. The changes weren’t only between the two women but with his whole family. He’d also seen more evidence of the teenage Ella he’d fallen for as she began to shed the layers she’d been building up around herself for years. She was beginning to trust others, accepting comments or remarks at face value rather than searching for hidden meanings. It was as if that storm had blown right through the Winters home, shaking loose all its secrets and buried pain.

  “Please don’t make me have to say whose biscuits are better,” he pleaded teasingly.

  Evelyn smiled. “I’d never ask that of you, Ben, because I know Ella’s biscuits will be made from the heart and only for you.”

  “Aw,” Ben teased, giving his mother a quick hug before folding Ella into his arms. Seconds later he was being shooed from the kitchen.

  “We have work to do, Ben,” Ella protested.

  “Okay, okay. I have to see Dad anyway.” Ben followed the blare of the television toward the den, still in disbelief at how much had changed in such a short time.

  Ella had taken him up on his suggestion to write her story for The Beacon’s special Christmas edition, which had been published yesterday. She’d also submitted it to her own paper—her last op-ed piece. Ben had liked it, finding it balanced and without reproach or finger-pointing. She’d struck exactly the right tone, focusing on the importance of a community working together in challenging situations, like the debate over the new development, the aftermath of the storm and, especially, the response to a tragedy striking one of its children. Rather than revealing the true perpetrators of the trick that led to Brandon’s death, she’d talked about the pitfalls of making baseless assumptions and how a person’s life can be affected by a community’s failure to listen and learn before judging. All good lessons, Ben knew. The family had not only accepted her need to write the story but also admired her for doing so.

  As for himself? Was she trusting him more now, too? All he knew was that they were inching their way toward trust and forgiveness. It was a start, and he had high hopes.

  He hesitated at the door to the den, bracing himself for the TV’s volume, then went in to tell his father the good news about the council approval.

  * * *

  LONG AFTER THE chowder was enjoyed and the kitchen readied for Evelyn’s traditional Christmas Eve fondue supper, Ben drove Ella to the bookstore. She’d promised to give Grace a break for what was turning out to be one of her busiest days of the year, and Ben was heading to Henry’s to help him pack and get moved to the Winterses for the next two days.

  No one should be alone at Christmas, Evelyn had insisted.

  Ben had caught Ella’s eye and given her an encouraging smile. She’d phoned her mother from Boston and emailed holiday greetings to her brother and his family, who were on a cruise. He knew she envied his family’s togetherness, but she didn’t fully understand the emotional journey all of them had traveled to get there. He kept telling her it took time and persistence to hurdle the misunderstandings and the hurts families sometimes suffered, but love was in that mix, too.

  You can’t overcome pain or bad memories if you don’t love or feel loved. That was his personal mantra these days. He refused to give up on gaining back Ella’s unconditional trust.

  * * *

  ELLA HAD NEVER been to a Christmas Eve candlelight service. She’d expected real candles, not plastic LED tea lights at the bottom of gaily decorated glass jam jars. Otherwise she’d had no preconceived ideas, other than people would gather in worship. The church near Town Square was full, with latecomers standing at the rear. The ends of each row of pews were festooned with large red bows and stands of poinsettia plants flanked the altar.

  The choir paraded into the aisles of seats on either side of the altar, and everyone stood as the reverend began to pray. When he finished, the congregation sat while the choir sang “O Holy Night,” and Ella teared up at her childhood memory of that beautiful carol. Ben nudged her partway through the hymn when Grace left the choir and walked to the mic. She had a lovely voice, something Ella had forgotten, and had been asked to sing a solo verse.

  Ella suspected the invitation to sing wasn’t only because of her voice. She thought the request could be a sign that the community had forgiven Grace, whose role in the tragedy that had struck the town years ago had gradually spread. Ella guessed Grace herself was responsible for that, because Ella’s column in The Beacon had just been published and she’d been discreet about names. She’d decided to center the piece on the importance of standing together, even in troubled times, of grasping all the facts before judging.

  While Grace was singing, Ella glanced at Drew across the aisle and saw the gleam of pride and love in his eyes. They were flying to Iowa the day after Christmas to meet his family. Ella envied her friend the chance to be with people who knew nothing—and would never need to know—about what had happened in Lighthouse Cove years ago. She worried a bit about her future here, in spite of publ
ishing her story. There would always be people who’d remain skeptical, but she vowed not to let those people govern her anymore.

  Last night Ben had asked her to marry him and spend the rest of her life in the Cove. His proposal made her happier than she’d been in years, but she’d had moments of doubt. Sure, many people in town had thanked her for helping after the storm, but appreciation and acceptance were very different things. Ben’s parents had been nothing but kind to her and Ella guessed they’d be happy about the engagement when she and Ben told them.

  Ella and Evelyn were more comfortable in each other’s company, even able to tease and joke with one another, but it was Ben’s father who had been the surprise. Ella discovered she and Charles shared an interest in watching the news on TV, and they enjoyed debating the merits or weaknesses of the various pundits analyzing current politics. Their discussions were sometimes heated but always ended with a laugh and sometimes even a pat on the hand—this from a man she knew had seldom been physically demonstrative to his own children.

  As the chorus of the last Christmas hymn ended and a loud “Amen” resonated in the church, Ella was filled with the hope that her welcome into the Winters family—and in the Cove—would continue to grow every day.

  The congregation began to disperse, many people filing down to the basement hall for treats brought by the congregation and hot beverages provided by Mabel’s. She was separated from Ben on the way and couldn’t see him as she entered the large hall. At the far end, she spotted Evelyn and a couple other women setting out baked goods onto plastic platters, and Ella wound through the crowd to help. On the way, a hand emerged from the crowd to clasp her shoulder. She spun around.

  “Ella!” It was Suzanna with Sam. “I was hoping to bump into you. I wanted to talk to you before we see each other at dinner tomorrow.”

  The last time Ella had spoken to Suzanna was at the hotel days ago, when she and Grace were volunteering after the storm. Despite the woman’s gradual warming to her, Ella’s uncertainty about Ben’s cousin persisted. She was Brandon’s sister, a hard fact that would always exist between them. Suzanna knew the truth, but was she still questioning it?

  “I need to tell you something,” Suzanna clarified as she pulled Ella aside.

  Ella braced herself.

  Suzanna leaned closer, speaking in Ella’s ear over the noise. “I read your piece in The Beacon yesterday and I admired it very much. Your honesty about blaming without having facts was right on. There’s been too much speculating and not enough soul-searching in this town, and not only about what happened to my brother. Some of that denial, even after learning the truth, has come from me, and I’m sorry for that. I respect what it must have taken you to publicly talk about what you endured. That took guts.”

  Ella was speechless.

  “Merry Christmas, and see you tomorrow,” Suzanna cried as the crowd drifted between them.

  By the time she reached Evelyn, most of the baked goods had been laid out. “Sorry,” Ella said. “The crowd—”

  “No need to explain.” She stretched to see over the people milling around the table. “Have you seen Ben?”

  “Nope, lost him. But I’m sure he’ll show up for one of your shortbreads.” She eyed the platter closest to her. “Did you bring them all?”

  “Heavens no! Charles and Henry would have a fit.”

  Ella laughed with her. The two men had opted to have a quieter evening at home.

  “When you find Ben, can you tell him I’m going home with Grace and Drew now? I know they’d planned to give you two a ride as well, but I’m tired and tomorrow will be a long day.”

  “Of course.” Ella patted her hand. “Are you feeling okay?” She knew Evelyn’s rheumatoid arthritis sometimes flared up when she was fatigued or stressed.

  “I’m fine, but if I’m in bed when you and Ben get home, Merry Christmas!” She stretched up to kiss Ella’s cheek. “And thank you for forgiving my family and, most of all, for making Ben so happy.” Then she reached for her coat on a chair behind her. “I’m meeting Grace and Drew at the front door. Good night, dear.”

  Ella watched the small woman negotiate the crowd, pausing now and then for a quick greeting. Evelyn would be a good mother-in-law, she decided. She picked up a couple cookies and worked her way around the tables and chairs set up for the older members of the congregation, searching for Ben.

  On her way, one white-haired woman sitting with three other seniors stopped her. “I think you must be Ella Jacobs, am I right?”

  The woman was smiling, so Ella’s tension ebbed momentarily until she went on to say, “I still remember all of that sadness from years ago. Many people here, myself included, misjudged you at the time. I’m sorry for that. But I’m happy the Winters family has welcomed you back. We do, too. Welcome back to the Cove.” She and her friends beamed at Ella.

  Ella nodded through the sudden blur of tears and headed back into the crowd. She needed fresh air and Ben’s comforting arms. A few minutes later she found Ben at the top of the stairs talking to a young couple with a toddler and a baby. Ben’s smile enveloped her, vanquishing every person in the room.

  “Ella, I’d like you to meet Glen Kowalski and his wife, Maggie. And this is Mary and her baby sister, Angie.” His big smile shone on the baby in particular.

  Ella was struck by the revelation that Ben might like children, even tiny ones. Having children with him hadn’t been even a thought in their new relationship, much less a discussion point. Yet as she studied him beaming at the infant, she saw for the first time a future father in Ben Winters. The four of them chatted a few seconds longer until the baby began to fuss, and the family made a hasty retreat. “Glen is one of my employees,” Ben explained as he helped Ella with her coat. “An important and trusted one.”

  His tone caught her attention. Although he hadn’t told her the full story of the situation at work—a fraud scheme—Ella knew Glen and another employee had supported Ben in the challenging aftermath of the discovery.

  “Your mother asked me to tell you she’s gone home with Grace and Drew.”

  “Oh? Weren’t we supposed to go with them, too?”

  “She’s tired and didn’t want to wait.”

  “I guess she has a lot to do tomorrow, and despite the help from the rest of us, she’ll want to—”

  “Supervise.”

  He laughed. “You’ve already got Mom figured out. That bodes well for the future.” He held the church door open for some people to pass, then placed his hand at the small of her back as they followed. “I don’t mind a slow walk home, do you?”

  “Not at all.” She buttoned up her red cashmere coat and, reaching for his hand, thought about what he’d just said about the future. Days ago, she’d had mixed feelings about one with Ben. Her worries weren’t about Ben—she knew he was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. But the dilemma about living in the Cove for perhaps the rest of her life had been chipping away at her peace of mind. Now, after those words from Suzanna plus some from a complete stranger, she felt confident she could find a peaceful, contented life there after all.

  When they reached the top of the street leading down to the harbor, Ben exclaimed, “Look!” The Christmas lights had been rehung after the storm, and their multicolored rainbows arced across the black water in the marina and beyond to Casco Bay. Except for occasional ribbons of smoke drifting from the chimneys of the homes below, the night sky was clear and starlit.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Ben’s voice was as soft as the sea breeze and for a split second, Ella heard the voice she recalled from that summer when a future with Ben Winters was still an unbroken dream.

  She snuggled against him. You can do this, Ella Mae Jacobs, with him right here like this. Forever.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Her Hometown Detective by Elizabeth Mowers.


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  Her Hometown Detective

  by Elizabeth Mowers

  CHAPTER ONE

  DETECTIVE JOHN “TULLY” MCTULLY lowered his truck window and hung an arm out, allowing the humidity to smack him in the face. The wooded two-lane highway leaving Roseley was bursting with bright green foliage thanks to the frequent rains of May and June. The heat and humidity that followed in Michigan did nothing to deter the summer tourists who flooded the charming lakeside town every year for the long Fourth of July weekend. For a few days more, Tully savored the quiet drive out of town for the break it was.

  He’d lived in Roseley for most of his life. Aside from a few years of schooling and then police work in Grand Rapids, he’d stuck close to home and near the people who had supported him since childhood. Like his best friend, Charlie, who had recently returned to Roseley and married. There was Tully’s father, now living quietly alone on the outskirts of town. And Samantha, his sister, who had been his opposite in nearly every possible way since they’d been children. Samantha always added a bit of drama from time to time.

  After cruising for a while, Tully reached for his cell phone vibrating in the center console.

  “Hello, Samantha,” he said.

  “Are you still picking me up from the airport?”

  “That was the plan.” He accelerated at the tone in her voice. Samantha hated having even a moment of downtime on her hands.

  “Perfect. We touched down.”

  “You’re early.”