“Thank you,” she said, surprised by the genuine warmth in Nora’s greeting. “The lodge looks beautiful.”
“We go all out for Christmas,” Nora beamed. “Stan, the other judges are waiting by the gingerbread display. Beckett, would you mind helping Jason hang the last of the lights outside before the tree lighting? And Tessa, come with me. Annie’s been asking about you.”
Before she could respond, Nora had linked arms with her and was guiding her through the crowd. People nodded and smiled as they passed. Some called out greetings, using her name with easy familiarity.
“Tessa! Good to see you back!”
“How long are you staying, Tessa?”
“Merry Christmas, Tessa!”
She smiled and nodded, feeling oddly seen in a way she hadn’t in years. In Denver, she was just another nurse, another face in scrubs rushing through hospital corridors. Here, she was Tessa Grant, the prodigal daughter returning at last, even if it was only temporarily.
Annie waved from behind a table where she was serving hot chocolate. She wore a blue sweater with snowflakes.
“There you are!” Annie exclaimed. “I saved you some of the good hot chocolate. The kind with real melted chocolate, not the powdered stuff.”
She accepted the steaming mug. “Thanks. I can’t believe how many people are here.”
“Sweet River Falls does love a good festival. And Nora throws the best ones. How’s your dad doing?”
“Better than I expected, actually. Though he’s pushing himself too hard.”
Annie nodded knowingly. “Stan’s always been stubborn. But he’s changed a lot these past few years. Opened up more since Beckett came along.”
“So I’ve noticed. Everyone keeps talking about how different he is. It’s... strange.”
“People change, Tessa. Sometimes they just need the right reason. Your dad’s been trying, in his own way.”
“Has he?” The words came out more sharply than she intended.
Annie didn’t flinch. “When you sent that card last Christmas, he brought it to the cafe to show me.”
She stared into her mug. The card had been a last-minute thing, a generic holiday greeting with her signature. She’d sent it out of obligation, not expecting her father to treasure it.
“I should check on him,” she said finally, needing space to process this new information.
She found her father at the gingerbread display, clipboard in hand, studying each creation with serious concentration. A small crowd had gathered to watch the judging, and Tessa hung back, observing.
“The structural integrity on this one is impressive,” Stan was saying to the other judges, pointing to a gingerbread replica of the town’s Main Street. “Look at how they reinforced the shop awnings.”
The other judges nodded, making notes. Stan moved to the next display, a gingerbread version of Sweet River Lodge complete with tiny pine trees and a frozen sugar lake.
“Attention to detail here is remarkable. See how they got the exact number of windows on the main building?” he commented.
She watched, fascinated. Her father had always been precise and detail-oriented, but she’d never seen him channel those traits into something that brought joy to others. He looked different too, more animated, and his eyes were bright with interest.
People kept approaching him, clapping him on the shoulder, asking his opinion. And he responded to each one with more words than she had heard him string together in years. This wasn’t the withdrawn, emotionally distant father she’d left behind. This was a man embedded in his community, respected and valued.
After the judging concluded and ribbons were awarded, she made her way to her father’s side.
“The structural integrity one, huh?” she said, nodding toward the Main Street display that had won first place.
Stan looked pleased. “Engineering always beats flash. That one would stand up to a real snowstorm.”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
“Been doing this a while now. Got a system.” He gave a small shrug.
