“Small-town legal practice is lucky that you’re staying to help coordinate my professional life along with everything else,” Declan said with obvious affection. “Speaking of which, have I mentioned that I love you?”
“Only about twelve times since yesterday,” I said. “But don’t let that stop you.”
“I love you,” Declan said solemnly, like he was making a formal declaration. “Completely, permanently, with all the terrifying intensity of someone who’s finally found what he’s been looking for his entire life.”
“I love you too,” I said, kissing him softly. “Now come on, or we’re going to be late for Christmas Eve service, and my mother will blame you forever.”
“Can’t have that,” Declan smirked. “Future sons-in-law should probably make good impressions during their first family Christmas.”
Two hours later, we were sitting in the third pew of Everdale Falls Community Church, surrounded by both sets of parentsand what appeared to be approximately three-quarters of the town’s population, listening to Pastor Williams deliver a Christmas Eve sermon about the importance of coming home.
“Home,” Pastor Williams was saying in his gentle, thoughtful way, “isn’t always the place where we were born. Sometimes home is the place where we choose to build our lives, the community that embraces us, the people who see us as we truly are and love us anyway.”
I felt Declan’s hand tighten around mine as Pastor Williams continued talking about chosen families and new beginnings and the courage it takes to build the life you actually want instead of the life you think you’re supposed to want.
“Some of us,” Pastor Williams said with a small smile that seemed directed at our pew, “are blessed to discover that the place we were meant to be was right here all along. Others find their way home after traveling far from where they started. Both journeys are gifts, and both deserve celebration.”
As the congregation joined together for the final carol, I looked around at the faces of people I’d known my entire life, people who’d welcomed Declan like he’d always belonged here, people who were genuinely happy about our decision to build a future in their community.
This was home. Not just the physical place, but the people, the community, the sense of belonging that I’d taken for granted until I’d almost lost it.
After the service, we made our way through the receiving line of neighbors who wanted to congratulate us on our relationship and wish us well for the holidays. It was the kind of community celebration that felt both overwhelming and exactly right, like the entire town was invested in our happiness.
“Holly,” a soft voice called my name from behind me, and I turned to find, the owner of Romancing the Tome bookshop, waiting to speak with me.
“Adelle,” I said warmly, genuinely pleased to see her. According to my mom, Adelle had moved to Everdale Falls about three years ago and had transformed the failing bookshop into one of the town’s most beloved gathering places. I hadn’t had a chance to go in while I’ve been back, but I made a mental note to visit and support her business.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Adelle said, glancing between Declan and me. “I was wondering if I could speak with you about something. Professionally.”
“Professionally?”
“I heard that you’re starting an event planning business,” Adelle explained. “And I was thinking that the bookshop’s third anniversary is coming up, and I’d love to do something special to celebrate. Something that would bring the whole community together around books and reading.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I said with genuine enthusiasm. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’m not entirely sure yet,” Adelle admitted. “Maybe an outdoor literary festival? Author readings, book discussions, activities for children? I’d love to show people how important books and stories are to building community.”
“It sounds like exactly the kind of event that would be perfect for Everdale Falls. I’d love to help you plan it.”
“Really?” Adelle’s face lit up with obvious relief and excitement. “That would be amazing. I’ve been thinking about it for months, but I don’t have any experience with event coordination.”
“That’s what I’m for,” I said with a smile. “Why don’t you come by after the holidays, and we can start brainstorming? I’m sure we can create something beautiful.”
As Adelle thanked me and hurried away to catch up with friends, Declan looked at me with pride and affection.
“Your first official client,” he said with a smile. “Everdale Events is officially in business.”
“Looks like it,” I said, feeling a flutter of excitement about the possibility of building something meaningful here, of using my skills to help people like Adelle create events that brought the community together.
“What do you think a literary festival would involve?” Declan asked as we made our way toward the church exit.
“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “But Adelle seems to be passionate about books and community, so I’m sure we can come up with something special. Maybe we could get some local authors involved or reach out to writers with Vermont connections.”
“Sounds like you’re already planning,” Declan said. “And I can help with authors. I know a few.” He winked but left it at that. I’d press him about it later, but right now was for Christmas and family.
When my phone rang a moment later, I frowned and checked the screen.
My heart stopped, and I chewed my lip.
