“That’s Sweet River Falls for you. For better or worse, everyone knows everyone.”
The afternoon wore on, and Tessa found herself periodically glancing toward the Sweet River Lodge booth. Beckett remained there, working steadily alongside Nora. He seemed to have relaxed somewhat, even smiling occasionally as children admired the intricate wooden ornaments he’d crafted. Once, he looked up and caught Tessa watching him. For a brief moment, their eyes met across the crowded market, and Tessa felt a flutter of something warm and hopeful in her chest.
Then someone stepped between them, breaking the connection, and the moment passed.
Around three o’clock, Annie left to replenish their dwindling stock of hot chocolate, leaving Tessa to mind the booth alone. She was just finishing a sale when she heard her name called.
“Tessa Grant? Is that really you?”
She turned to find herself face-to-face with James Finch, her high school boyfriend. He looked older, of course, with threads of silver at his temples, but his wide, slightly crooked smile was just as she remembered it.
“James,” she said, genuinely pleased to see him. “It’s been forever.”
“Fifteen years, give or take.” He leaned against the booth’s counter. “Dad told me you were back in town. How long are you staying?”
She shrugged. “Not sure yet. It depends on my father’s recovery.”
“Well, it’s good to see you. You look great.”
“Thanks. So do you.” She gestured to his left hand, where a wedding band gleamed. “Married life suits you.”
He grinned. “Ten years next spring. Two kids, too. They’re around here somewhere with my wife, probably loading up on sugar.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said, and meant it. There had been a time when she’d imagined a different future, one where she might have been that wife, and those might have been her children. But that path had closed when she left Sweet River Falls, and she found she had no regrets about it. “You always wanted a family.”
“And you always wanted out,” James said, but there was no bitterness in his tone. “Did you find what you were looking for in Denver?”
Had she? She’d built a respectable career, had a decent apartment, and colleagues she respected. But friends? Real connections? Those had fallen by the wayside as she threw herself into her work and used exhaustion as a shield against loneliness. “Parts of it. Still working on the rest.”
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Aren’t we all? Well, I’d better go round up the kids. Good seeing you.”
After James left, she found herself scanning the market again for Beckett. She spotted him helping a young boy select an ornament, his expression patient and kind as he listened to the child’s careful deliberations. The sight made something twist in her chest, a feeling she wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge or admit.
Annie returned with fresh supplies, and they worked side by side as the afternoon deepened toward evening. “How are we doing on inventory?” Annie asked, tallying their sales.
She checked their stock. “Almost out of the cinnamon blend, but plenty of everything else.”
“Perfect. We’re ahead of last year’s sales already.” Annie beamed, clearly delighted. “Having you here has been a godsend. I usually have to manage this alone.”
“I’m happy to help. It’s been fun.” She was surprised to find she truly meant it.
“Enough fun to stick around through Christmas?” Annie asked, her tone casual but her eyes hopeful.
“I’m not sure. Everything happened so fast with Dad’s stroke and me coming back... I haven’t had time to think about when I’ll return to Denver.”
This wasn’t entirely true. She’d been thinking about it constantly, especially during those quiet moments when she found herself actually enjoying being back in Sweet River Falls. Her leave from the hospital was open-ended, a fact she’d been careful not to share with her father. Dr. Foster had been clear: “Take all the time you need, Tessa. The ER will still be here when you’re ready.”
If she was ready.
Annie nodded, not pushing further. “Well, whatever you choose, know that you have people here who care about you.”
The simple statement hit her harder than she expected. Did she have people in Denver who truly cared? Colleagues who would notice if she disappeared? Neighbors who would check on her if she didn’t show up? The answer made her throat tighten.
“Thank you. That means a lot,” she managed.
As the day progressed into early evening, the market took on a magical quality. Christmas lights twinkled against the darkening sky, and the scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air. She found herself caught up in the festive atmosphere, laughing at Annie’s stories about past Christmas markets and joining in when a group of carolers passed by their booth. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt present, connected to the moment rather than anxiously anticipating the next crisis.
She was arranging a fresh batch of gingerbread cookies when a commotion near the town square caught her attention. A woman’s voice rose above the general market noise, high and panicked.
