He looked between me and Ruby. “Is everything alright?”
Ruby didn’t miss a beat. “No. The whole damn town is losing its mind.”
Slade’s jaw ticked. “About Kingston.”
My breath caught. “You heard?”
“Everyone’s heard.” He paused. “For what it’s worth, I know him. I’ve known him since he was a kid.” He shifted his weight, his voice quiet but firm. “He’s a good man. Better than some folks deserve.”
My pulse tripped all over itself. Ruby nodded enthusiastically like she couldn’t agree more.
Slade tugged off his gloves. “Most people talk big when they’re scared, but it doesn’t mean they’re right.” He hesitated, then added, “Don’t let a bunch of folks who thrive on gossip decide something that matters.”
Then he disappeared into the back room without another word.
Ruby exhaled. “If Orville ever retires, I’m going to suggest that Slade run for mayor. He’ll win from that speech alone.”
I stared at the mug cradled in my hands.
Ruby leaned in. “Scarlett?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to the tree lighting tonight?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
Ruby’s smile widened. “Good.”
“I’m not going for the town,” I said quietly. “I’m going for him.”
“Even better.” She reached behind her and grabbed a hand-knit beanie with a sprig of mistletoe sticking up from the top of the display. Then she tugged the price tag off with her teeth and jammed it onto my head.
“There,” she said, hands on her hips. “Now you look ready to fight for your man.”
I laughed, truly laughed, for the first time all day. “If this doesn’t get me a Christmas kiss, then I suppose he’s beyond hope.”
“No one’s ever beyond hope, honey. Remember that.”
I finished my cider and headed home to get ready. I went through the motions on auto-pilot. First a shower, then I fixed my hair. The red sweater my mom gave me last year for Christmas made me feel braver than I was. Then I tugged on boots that wouldn’t slip on the ice, my warmest winter coat, and the hat Ruby had given me.
No more hiding. No more letting the town’s opinions drown out what I knew to be true. No more letting Kingston bear burdens that never belonged to him alone.
“Tonight,” I whispered to myself, “we fix this.” I grabbed my keys before doubt could whisper otherwise.
The walk to the square didn’t take any time at all. Warm light spilled from shop windows as I turned onto Main Street. Families were already gathering in the square, bundled againstthe cold. The giant evergreen towered over everything, its limbs dark, waiting for the lighting ceremony.
Holiday music floated through speakers. Kids darted between adults, laughing. Orville adjusted the microphone on the stage, and the crowd parted enough that I could see the tree. My entire body went still. This was the moment, the turning point, the place where everything would change.
I took a slow, deep breath and moved toward the tree. The whole square was decked out in the kind of cozy postcard scene that usually made me smile. Tonight, it felt like a test I wasn’t sure I could pass.
As I moved deeper into the crowd, people turned. I felt their eyes on me, the quick glances over their shoulders, and the whispers swapped behind gloved hands. I straightened my spine and kept moving.
At the cocoa stand, Madge paused mid-pour, her smile faltering. “Oh—Scarlett.” Her voice dipped to something careful and cautious, like she didn’t want to set me off by offering a cup of cocoa. “It’s a beautiful night.”
“It is,” I agreed, forcing warmth into my voice.
She hesitated. “Such a… big turnout this year. Everyone’s here.”
