Murmurs of agreement spread through the congregation. Laurel nodded beside him, her silver braid catching the candlelight.
My voice roughened. "I’d like to stay in Hope Peak. And continue Christmas Wishes permanently, every year, and I want to support our schools, library, and community center—invest in this town that gave me sanctuary when I needed it most." I paused, looking around at the faces I'd come to know. "I want to help Hope Peak thrive, not just at Christmas, but year-round. This place saved me when I was drowning, and I want to give back."
I took a breath. "But I don't want to be treated differently because of what I used to do. My life now is about living simply, working with my hands and creating things that matter. I'm just Bart—a woodworker who wants to be part of this community. Who wants to build something truly sustainable and lasting here.”
I glanced at Candi. Her face was wet, but she was smiling.
"And I'm falling hard for this woman who's the kindest, most honest person I know. She filmed me without permission on my private property—" laughter rippled through the church, "—and I threatened to sue her. Turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me."
I looked around the sanctuary one more time. "Thank you all for accepting a weary stranger into your midst with open arms. Merry Christmas."
The congregation erupted—applause, cheers, people standing. Gerald and Laurel reached us first, both pulling each of us into hugs. Others crowded around with more hugs, handshakes, and assurances of welcome.
I looked for Drew, but he'd slunk toward the exit, his moment of intended revenge turned to irrelevance. He slipped out into the December night, disappearing like an intrepid shadow, the door closing silently behind him.
The crowd eventually dispersed, families heading home to celebrate.
In the parking lot, I opened the truck door for Candi and she slid in, releasing a long breath as I rounded to the driver's side.
"You okay?" I asked, starting the engine.
"Yeah." She reached for my hand across the console. "That felt good. Seeing Drew’s face when he realized he had no power here."
"You were incredible back there."
The drive home was quiet. When we pulled into the driveway, the Christmas tree lights glowed through the windows.
Inside, we changed into comfortable clothes—me pulling on sweats and Candi emerging in leggings and one of my flannels, sleeves rolled up.
"I'm starving," she said.
"Same."
We made dinner from leftovers—roast chicken, salad, bread. Ate at the dining room table with the tree glowing in the next room.
After we cleared the dishes, I pulled the small velvet box from the side table drawer where I’d been hiding it. "I have something for you."
"Wait—me first." She darted into the bedroom and returned with a wrapped frame.
I opened it. A photograph of us decorating the Christmas tree—her on tiptoe reaching for a branch while I steadied her from behind, both of us laughing.
"When did you take this?"
I handed her the velvet box. She opened it and stared at the single silver key inside.
"I want you here," I said. "Not visiting. Living here. With me. Take your time—you don’t need to give me an answer right now."
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything. Stay in Hope Peak. Stay with me."
"Yes." She kissed me hard. "Yes."
I pulled her onto my lap and she melted against me, her hands in my hair.
"Take me to bed," she whispered.
I carried her upstairs. We made love slowly, then fell asleep tangled together.
