Tessa had almost forgotten what it felt like to anticipate something. For months in Denver, her days had blurred into an endless cycle of hospital shifts and restless sleep. But this morning, she found herself looking forward to helping Annie with the children’s reading night at Bookish Cafe.
She pulled on her boots and went into the kitchen, surprised to find the house quiet. Her father was at his weekly doctor’s appointment, with Beckett driving him. The silence felt strange after nearly two weeks of their constant presence.
In the kitchen, she found a note from Beckett in his neat handwriting: “Taking your dad to Dr. Miller. Back around noon. Coffee’s fresh.”
The thoughtfulness of the gesture made her smile. When had Beckett Cole started to matter so much? She poured herself a cup and wrapped her hands around the warm mug, savoring the moment of peace.
The walk to Bookish Cafe took her past snow-covered storefronts decorated for Christmas. Sweet River Falls looked like a postcard, pristine and perfect. But she knew better now. Beneath the twinkling lights and wreaths, people carried their own struggles. The wish notes at Annie’s had shown her that.
Annie was arranging books on a display table when Tessa pushed open the door.
“Perfect timing,” Annie called. “I just finished setting up the reading corner. We need to hang the paper snowflakes the kids made last week.”
She hung her coat and scarf on the rack by the door. “Put me to work.”
For the next hour, they transformed the children’s corner into a winter wonderland, hanging delicate paper snowflakes from fishing line and arranging cushions in a semicircle around a rocking chair.
She stepped back to admire their work. “This looks magical. The kids will love it.”
“Speaking of magical,” Annie said, “I saw you and Beckett walking on the River Walk the other day.”
Heat crept into her cheeks. “We were just getting some fresh air.”
“Mmhmm.” Annie’s knowing smile made her blush harder.
“It’s not like that,” she insisted, though she wasn’t entirely convinced herself. Something had shifted between them during that snowy walk. The way he’d listened when she told him about her panic attacks and offered understanding instead of solutions. The way he’d trusted her with his own fears.
“He’s good people, you know. What he did all those years ago... it doesn’t define who he is now.”
“I know,” she said, and realized she meant it.
“Well, I need more coffee before I tackle the next task. Want some?”
“Sure.”
While Annie prepared fresh cups, Tessa wandered over to the community bulletin board. The colorful wish notes were still there, alongside flyers for the Christmas festivals and local business advertisements. She scanned the board, smiling at a child’s handwritten wish for a puppy.
Then her eyes caught on a note she hadn’t seen before. Unlike the cheerful colored papers of the wish notes, this one was stark white, and the message was typed rather than handwritten.
“You can put up lights and bake cookies, but you can’t wash away a prison record.”
Her stomach clenched. She read it again, hoping she’d misunderstood, but the words remained unchanged. Cold. Deliberate.
“Annie, did you see this?”
Annie appeared at her side, coffee mugs in hand. Her eyes widened as she read the note. “No. Oh no.” She quickly snatched it off the board. “I wonder how long it’s been up there. I didn’t notice it.”
Her hands curled into fists. “It’s about Beckett, isn’t it?”
Annie nodded, her expression grim. “There are still a few people in town who aren’t happy about the reentry program. Walter Dobbs has been particularly vocal.”
“Walter Dobbs?”
“He’s a grumpy old man who thinks people can’t change. He also likes to stir up trouble.” Annie crumpled the note. “I thought this kind of thing had stopped months ago.”
She took the crumpled paper from Annie’s hand and smoothed it out. “Has Beckett seen notes like this before?”
“A few, when he first came to town. But it’s been quiet lately. I thought people had finally accepted him. He never complained, just kept his head down and worked harder.”
