She noticed the slight droop to his shoulders, the way he leaned more heavily on his cane. “You look tired, Dad. Maybe we should head home.”
“Not until the tree lighting. It’s the best part,” he said firmly.
Before she could argue, Miss Judy appeared with a plate of cookies. “Stan Grant, you did a fine job judging. Fair as always.” She turned to Tessa with a warm smile. “Your father talks about you all the time, you know.”
“He does?” She wondered just how many people in this town her father actually talked to about her.
“Oh yes. Always telling us about his daughter, the nurse, saving lives in Denver. Try one of these. Old family recipe.” Miss Judy handed her a cookie.
The cookie was still warm, buttery, and sweet. “It’s delicious,” she said honestly.
“Your father brings me your mother’s recipes sometimes,” Miss Judy said. “Says I’m the only one who might do them justice. That’s high praise from Stan.”
She glanced at her father, who was suddenly very interested in his own cookie. Another piece of the puzzle shifted into place. Her father hadn’t forgotten her mother. He’d been keeping her memory alive in his own quiet way.
The evening continued with carolers performing by the fireplace and children running about with paper reindeer antlers on their heads. She found herself relaxing, caught up in the festive atmosphere. She spotted Beckett across the room, helping an elderly woman to a seat near the fire. His movements were careful and considerate. When he looked up and caught her watching, she didn’t look away.
At last, Nora called for everyone’s attention. The crowd quieted as she stood near the lodge’s front entrance.
“Friends and neighbors,” she began, her voice carrying clearly through the room. “Thank you all for coming to our annual Christmas Festival. As always, your presence makes this event special. Sweet River Falls isn’t just a place on a map. It’s a community of people who care for each other, who show up when it matters.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“Tonight, as we light our Christmas tree, I want us to remember what makes this town special. It’s not just our beautiful mountains or our lovely lake. It’s all of you. Every person who calls Sweet River Falls home, whether they’ve been here for generations or just arrived.” Her gaze swept the room, lingering briefly on Tessa and Beckett. “Everyone belongs here.”
The words wrapped around her like a hug. Belonged here. When was the last time she’d felt like she truly belonged anywhere?
“Now, let’s head outside for the lighting of the tree!”
The crowd moved out onto the wide porch and lawn of the lodge. A massive pine tree stood near the entrance, strung with lights but still dark. She stood beside her father and Beckett, their breath forming clouds in the cold air.
“Ten!” Nora called, and the crowd joined in the countdown. “Nine! Eight!”
She glanced at her father, who was watching the tree with childlike anticipation.
“Seven! Six! Five!”
Beckett stood on her father’s other side, steady and watchful as always.
“Four! Three! Two! One!”
The tree burst into light, a cascade of twinkling colors against the dark sky. The crowd cheered, and she found herself smiling. It was simple, perhaps even a bit corny, but undeniably magical.
“Beautiful,” her father murmured, and she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or himself.
After the lighting, Stan finally admitted to being tired. The drive home was quiet, all three of them content in the silence. When they arrived, Beckett helped Stan up the front steps while Tessa unlocked the door.
“I’m turning in,” Stan announced once inside. “Been a long day.”
“Do you need help with anything?” she asked.
Her father paused, then shook his head. “I can manage. Good night, Tessa. Beckett.”
“Good night, Dad.”
After he’d gone to his room, she found herself reluctant to retreat to her own. Beckett started a fire with practiced ease, and its flames created a cozy atmosphere in the room.
“Want some tea?” he asked, already moving toward the kitchen.
