“She was.” She smiled, feeling the familiar ache of missing her mother, but it was softer now, less raw. “I think she would have liked you.”
This time, his smile was real, if brief. “I would have liked to meet her.”
“I wish you could have too,” she said softly. “And I meant what I said earlier. About fighting for you. You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and there was something unreadable in his expression. “Thank you. But I don’t want to cause trouble. Especially not for you and your dad.”
“It’s not trouble to stand up for what’s right.”
Before he could respond, they heard Stan calling from the house. Beckett set down his tools immediately, always attentive to her father’s needs.
As they walked back to the house together, she made a silent promise to herself. She wouldn’t let Beckett face this alone, whether he wanted her help or not. Because somewhere along the way, this quiet, thoughtful man had become important to her. More important than she was ready to admit, even to herself.
And if someone in Sweet River Falls wanted to judge him for his past, they’d have to go through her first.
Chapter 12
Tessa adjusted her festive red scarf and rubbed her gloved hands together as she surveyed the Christmas market taking shape around her. Sweet River Falls’s town square had transformed overnight into a winter wonderland, with white twinkling lights strung between lampposts and evergreen garlands wrapped around anything that didn’t move. Vendors hustled to set up their booths before the official opening in thirty minutes, their breath visible in the crisp morning air.
“Perfect timing,” Annie called, waving from her Bookish Cafe booth. “I could use those extra hands.”
She walked up to Annie’s booth. “What do you need me to do?” She eyed the half-assembled display of holiday-themed books and the large coffee dispenser that needed setting up.
“Could you arrange those books while I finish with the coffee station? The Christmas romances sell like crazy this time of year.” Annie pointed to several stacks of books with festive covers.
She picked up a book with a snow-covered cabin on the cover. “People really read these?”
Annie laughed. “Oh, honey. They can’t get enough of them. Something about the holidays makes everyone want a happy ending.”
As she arranged the books by color and size, creating an inviting display, she found herself smiling at the predictable but charming titles: Mistletoe Magic, Christmas at the Lighthouse, The Holiday Swap. She hadn’t been much of a reader in recent years, but there was something comforting about these books with their promises of holiday cheer and guaranteed happy endings.
“There you go,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “The holiday books are all set.”
“You’ve got quite the eye for display.” Annie glanced at her watch. “I’m just going to pop over and speak to the festival coordinator. Back in a flash.”
Tessa adjusted the handwritten price tag on a jar of Annie’s hot chocolate mix and stepped back to survey the display. The Bookish Cafe booth looked festive and inviting, with twinkling lights strung along the awning and the stacks of holiday-themed books arranged beside specialty coffees and homemade treats.
Annie returned to the booth. “It looks great. I really appreciate the help.” Annie poured each of them a steaming cup of hot chocolate. “We’ve got fifteen minutes before the official opening. Just enough time for a quick break.”
She accepted the cup gratefully, wrapping her gloved hands around its warmth. The morning air was crisp and cold, and her breath formed little clouds that dissipated in the winter sunshine. All along Main Street, other vendors were putting final touches on their booths, creating a bustling energy in the town square.
“I forgot how beautiful this all is,” she admitted, taking in the garlands of pine strung between lampposts and the enormous Christmas tree standing proud in the town square. “Denver does Christmas big, but it’s all so commercial. This feels...”
“Like home?” Annie suggested with a knowing smile.
She didn’t answer immediately. Was Sweet River Falls still home? The word felt complicated now, loaded with memories both painful and precious. Yet standing here in the heart of town, surrounded by familiar faces and traditions, she couldn’t deny the pull she felt.
“Maybe,” she finally said. “Parts of it, anyway.”
Annie squeezed her arm. “That’s a start.”
Across the market, she spotted Beckett helping Nora set up the Sweet River Lodge booth. He worked methodically, arranging wooden ornaments on a display rack while Nora chattered away beside him. Even from this distance, she could see the tension in his shoulders and the careful way he kept his head down.
He’d been like that for days now, ever since the note. Their easy conversations had dried up, replaced by polite but distant exchanges. He left rooms when she entered them and made excuses about projects that needed attention. The connection they’d been building had fractured, and she felt its absence like a physical ache.
“Has he said anything to you?” Tessa asked, nodding toward Beckett.
Annie followed her gaze. “Not directly. But Nora mentioned he’s been spending more time at the lodge workshop. Said he’s making Christmas gifts.”
