With another nod, Dobbs continued on his way.
When he was out of earshot, Beckett turned to her and grinned, a genuine smile that transformed his usually serious face. “That’s my first small thing.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You planned that?”
“Not exactly. But when I saw him coming, I figured it was as good a time as any to start somewhere.” He sat back down beside her. “I’m pretty sure he’s the one who left that note at the cafe.”
“That’s what Annie thought too.” She shook her head in disbelief. “And you just thanked him for a donation? I would have called him out.”
“What good would that do? He already thinks the worst of me. Confronting him would only confirm what he believes. Sometimes the best way to change someone’s mind is to show them they’re wrong, not tell them.”
She studied him, impressed by his wisdom and restraint. “That’s... remarkably mature.”
“That’s me.” He grinned. “Just a remarkably mature man. Everyone says that about me.”
She laughed. “As they should.” The sun was sinking lower, and the temperature dropping with it. She shivered slightly.
“We should head back,” he said, noticing. “It’ll be dark soon.”
They stood and brushed snow from their clothes. As they began walking back toward town, she found herself moving closer to Beckett, their arms occasionally brushing. Neither of them moved away.
“Have you decided if you’ll stay?” she asked after they’d walked in comfortable silence for a while. “After your program ends next month?”
“I don’t know. There’s work here I enjoy. People who’ve been kind.” He glanced at her. “But there are also people like Dobbs who’ll never see past what I did.”
“There are people like that everywhere,” she pointed out. “At least here, you have people who know the real you.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Will you go back to Denver?”
The question hung between them, suddenly weighted with more significance than a simple inquiry about her plans.
“I don’t know either,” she admitted. “I need to figure out what I want to do about my job. And now with my dad…” She trailed off. “I’ve been thinking maybe I could stay through Christmas… and maybe longer.”
Something like hope flickered across his face. “I’m sure Stan would like that.”
“Just Stan?” she asked, feeling suddenly brave.
He stopped walking and turned to face her. In the fading light, his eyes were serious and intent. “No,” he said quietly. “Not just Stan.”
Her heartbeat quickened. They stood there, their breath visible in the cold air between them. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. Part of her wanted him to.
Instead, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his gloved hand lingering briefly against her cheek. “We should get back,” he said, his voice low. “Your dad will be wondering where we are.”
She nodded, unable to speak past the sudden tightness in her throat. As they resumed walking, his hand found hers, warm even through their gloves. This small gesture felt like another first step toward something neither of them was ready to put a name to.
One small thing at a time, she thought. Today, she’d begun to heal her relationship with her father. She’d allowed herself to feel something other than anxiety and exhaustion.
And maybe, she’d found a reason to stay in Sweet River Falls a little longer.
Chapter 17
The next morning, Tessa woke to the sound of her father moving around in the kitchen earlier than usual. She could hear him humming under his breath, something she hadn’t heard since she was a child. The melody was familiar but distant, like a half-remembered dream.
She quickly got dressed, headed to the kitchen, and found her father already dressed and drinking coffee at the kitchen table. His eyes held a brightness she hadn’t seen since her arrival, and he looked up at her with something that resembled excitement.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, the endearment falling easily from his lips. “I hope you don’t have any big plans today.”
She poured herself coffee, still adjusting to this version of her father who used pet names and made plans. “Nothing specific. Why?”
