Beckett’s touches.
She glanced out the window at the snow-covered yard. The mountains rose in the distance, familiar and imposing all at once. She’d forgotten how the light hit differently here and how the air felt sharper in her lungs. Denver’s city skyline suddenly seemed a world away.
She stood alone with her thoughts and a house full of memories she’d spent years trying to outrun. The silence pressed in around her.
“I need some air.” She said it out loud even though she was alone. Decision made, she grabbed her coat from the hook by the door. She hesitated, wondering if she should tell her father she was leaving, but the thought of another stilted conversation made her chest tighten. Instead, she scribbled a quick note and left it on the kitchen table.
Outside, the December cold bit at her cheeks. The path from the house to the sidewalk had been meticulously shoveled, another one of Beckett’s tasks, she supposed. She saw no sign of him except for a neat stack of firewood. She tugged her scarf tighter around her neck and headed toward Main Street.
Sweet River Falls had always been picturesque, but the approaching holiday had transformed it into something straight off the front of an old-fashioned Christmas card. Garlands draped between lampposts, and storefronts twinkled with white lights. A group of volunteers was setting up what looked like a stage in the town square, likely for one of the many Christmas festivals the town had each holiday season.
She kept her head down as she passed a few familiar faces, not ready for the inevitable questions about her father or why she’d stayed away so long. But as she approached Bookish Cafe, she decided to go inside. After her mom had died, Annie, the owner, had taken Tessa under her wing. She’d tried to make things easier for a young girl who had just lost her mother. Not that it had really been possible, but Annie had been there for her. She’d heard Annie had expanded the cafe recently. As she pushed open the door, the scent of coffee and cinnamon greeted her like a welcoming committee.
“Tessa Grant, is that really you?”
Annie stood behind the counter, her hair pulled back in a complicated braid, her blue eyes wide with surprise and delight. She hurried around the counter and enveloped Tessa in a hug before she could prepare herself for the contact.
“Annie, hi,” she said, awkwardly patting her back. “It’s been a while.”
“A while? Try a decade. I heard you were coming back because of your dad, but seeing you in the flesh is something else. You look great.”
She managed a small smile. “You too. The place looks amazing.”
And it did. The Bookish Cafe had expanded since she’d last been there. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a cozy reading nook with overstuffed chairs occupied one corner. A staircase led to what appeared to be a loft area, and the counter was now twice as long, displaying an array of pastries under glass domes.
“Thanks. It’s been a labor of love.” Annie motioned toward a table by the window. “Sit. I’m making you a latte, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
Too tired to argue, she slid into the chair, grateful for the warmth of the cafe after her walk. Through the window, she could see the mountains that had been the backdrop of her childhood. She’d forgotten how they dominated everything in Sweet River Falls and how they made problems seem both insignificant and insurmountable all at once.
Annie appeared a few minutes later with two mugs and a plate of scones. “Special blend latte, just for you.” She slid one of the mugs toward Tessa. “And cranberry orange scones. Fresh out of the oven.”
“You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Please. I’ve been waiting years to catch up with you.” Annie settled into the chair across from her. “So, ER nurse in Denver. That’s impressive.”
“It’s just a job,” she said automatically, though it had been far more than that. It had been her identity, her purpose, and her escape. Now, with her forced leave, she wasn’t sure what she was anymore.
“That’s not what I hear. Nora says you’re some kind of medical superhero.”
Tessa took a sip of her latte to avoid responding. The flavor was rich and complex, with notes of cinnamon and something else, but she had no clue what. “This is incredible.”
“Secret recipe.” Annie winked. “So, how long are you staying?”
“Two weeks, maybe less if Dad kicks me out first.” The words came out more bitter than she’d intended.
Annie’s expression softened. “He’s glad you’re here, even if he doesn’t know how to show it.”
“Right. That’s why he never bothered to tell me he had an ex-con living in our house.” She broke off a piece of scone, not meeting Annie’s eyes.
There was a pause, and she looked up to find Annie studying her with a thoughtful expression. “Beckett’s a good man. The whole town has sort of adopted him since he came here through the re-entry program.”
“The whole town knows about this program?”
“Small town, remember? But it’s more than that. He’s earned people’s trust. He fixed the roof of the church when it started leaking last spring. Helped Harrison build that new deck at Nora’s cabin. He even teaches woodworking classes at the community center sometimes.”
She frowned. “And no one’s concerned about his past? About what he did?”
Annie took a sip of her own drink before answering. “We all know he served time. But we also know he’s not defined by the worst thing that ever happened to him. None of us are.”
