“Is that what you’re planning to do? Disappear when your program ends next month?”
He didn’t answer immediately, and Tessa felt a flutter of anxiety in her chest. The thought of him leaving Sweet River Falls created an unexpected hollow feeling inside her.
“I don’t know. I’ve been taking it one day at a time. That’s all I can manage right now,” he admitted.
“One small thing,” she murmured, remembering their conversation on the River Walk.
He nodded. “One small thing.”
A comfortable silence fell between them. The snow continued to fall, transforming the world into something pure and new. She found herself thinking about second chances, about how life sometimes took you on unexpected detours that turned out to be exactly where you needed to go.
“Maybe we can help each other,” she said suddenly.
He looked at her, a question in his eyes.
“With the one small thing,” she clarified. “Maybe we can be each other’s reminders that the past doesn’t have to define us. That we’re more than our mistakes or our grief.”
“I’d like that.”
She felt a warmth spreading through her. For the first time in years, perhaps since before her mother died, she felt truly seen by another person. Not as the capable nurse or the estranged daughter, but simply as Tessa, with all her flaws and fears and hopes.
“I’m glad I came home,” she said softly. “Even if it took my dad having a stroke to get me here.”
“Sometimes we need a wake-up call. Something to shake us out of the patterns we’ve created.”
He was right. Her father’s illness had forced her back to Sweet River Falls, but finding Beckett here, understanding him, was changing something fundamental inside her. Making her question the life she’d built in Denver and whether it was truly what she wanted.
He reached over and took her hand in his. “And Tessa, I think your first one small thing should be a conversation with your dad. Talk to him. Really talk. Sort things out.”
“That doesn’t sound so small to me.”
He squeezed her hand. “Maybe not. But it’s a good first step.”
One small thing at a time. Maybe that was all any of them could do. Face each day, each challenge, each opportunity for connection as it came. And maybe that would be enough. Maybe it would help both of them figure out their future.
Chapter 15
Tessa woke before dawn and sat up in bed. She’d spent half the night mentally rehearsing what she needed to say to her father. The words had tumbled through her mind on an endless loop, sometimes clear and purposeful, other times tangled and inadequate.
She slipped out of bed and padded to the window. The snow had stopped sometime during the night, leaving a pristine blanket across the yard. The eastern sky held just a hint of pale light. Another day in Sweet River Falls. Another day of pretending everything was fine.
Except she couldn’t pretend anymore.
Beckett’s gentle suggestion last night about having an honest conversation with her father had settled deep inside her. One small thing. That’s what he’d called it, but it felt enormous. Necessary, but terrifying.
She dressed in jeans and a soft flannel shirt, then headed to the kitchen. To her surprise, her father was already there, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee, staring out the window.
“Morning,” she said, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet kitchen.
Stan turned, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep. Where’s Beckett?” She poured herself coffee, wrapping her hands around the warm mug.
“Garage. Said he wanted to finish that bookshelf he’s been working on.”
She nodded, taking a careful sip of her coffee. Perfect timing. Or maybe Beckett had sensed what was coming.
She took a deep breath. “Dad, can we talk?”
