Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
KELSIE
"Hold still," Savannah orders, wielding an eyeliner pencil with terrifying precision. "Unless you want to look like a raccoon at the tree lighting."
I try not to flinch as she applies makeup with practiced strokes. When she offered to help me get ready for tonight's festivities, I didn't expect a full beauty makeover in Tom's guest bathroom.
"Is all this really necessary?" I ask as she steps back to evaluate her work. "It's just a small town tree lighting."
"It's the Whisper Vale tree lighting," Savannah corrects, reaching for a tube of mascara. "Everyone goes all out. Plus, the temperature dropped again, so looking cute while bundled up is an art form."
I don't mention that my real concern isn't the town's judgment but one particular sheriff's opinion.
Tom and I shared another quiet breakfast this morning, the air again charged with something neither of us acknowledged.
When our hands brushed passing the coffee pot, he didn't immediately pull away. Progress, perhaps.
"There." Savannah caps the mascara with a flourish. "Take a look."
I turn to the mirror, surprised by my reflection. She's enhanced my features without making me look overdone. My eyes appear larger behind my glasses, my cheekbones more defined, my lips subtly glossed.
"Wow. You're really good at this."
"Practice." She starts packing up her makeup bag. "So, has Dad mentioned anything about tonight?"
"The tree lighting? No." I adjust my glasses. "He said he's working. As usual, I guess."
Savannah nods, disappointment briefly shadowing her features. "Sixteen years of the same excuse. You'd think I'd stop hoping."
"He has his reasons," I say softly, remembering the pain that flickers across Tom's face whenever Christmas is mentioned.
"I know." She sighs. "But sometimes I wish he could see past his own hurt to realize what he's missing. What we're both missing by not sharing these moments."
I squeeze her hand, feeling a surge of affection for this young woman who's welcomed me so warmly. "Maybe someday."
"Maybe." She brightens, determination replacing melancholy. "But tonight is about fun. Colt's meeting us there, and you're going to experience your first Whisper Vale tree lighting extravaganza."
An hour later, we're walking toward town, bundled against the cold.
I'm wearing my heaviest coat, plus a borrowed scarf and hat from Savannah that actually match, unlike my hastily packed winter gear.
The streets are already crowded with people heading toward the town square, excitement buzzing in the air.
"This is amazing," I breathe, taking in the transformation. Every storefront glitters with lights, wreaths adorning each door, lampposts wrapped in garland and red ribbon. "It's like stepping into a holiday movie."
"Wait until you see the square," Savannah says, linking her arm through mine. "Dad always said Mom was the Christmas enthusiast, but honestly, I think the town goes all out partly to draw him back in. Like if they make it magical enough, he'll finally participate again."
Her insight into the town's relationship with its sheriff touches me deeply. They care about him, these people. They want him to heal, to rejoin their celebrations.
The square comes into view, and I gasp audibly.
A massive pine tree stands in the center, already strung with thousands of unlit bulbs.
Booths circle the perimeter selling hot chocolate, cookies, and handcrafted ornaments.
Children dart between adults, faces bright with anticipation.
A small stage has been set up where a choir practices carols.
"Sav!" A deep voice calls out. Colt appears from the crowd, tall and imposing in a black leather jacket, his handsome face breaking into a smile that transforms his intimidating appearance.
He kisses Savannah with obvious affection before turning to me. "You must be Kelsie. Heard a lot about you."
"All good things, I hope." I shake his offered hand, noting the calluses that speak of manual labor.
"Very good." His eyes twinkle mischievously. "Especially how you've managed to survive five days in my father in law’s fortress of solitude without being evicted."
"Colt," Savannah chides, though she's smiling.
"Just saying, it's impressive." He wraps an arm around his wife. "The man barely let me in the driveway when we started dating."
"He's been very accommodating," I say diplomatically, though warmth rises to my cheeks remembering our almost moment in the kitchen last night.
"Hot chocolate?" Colt offers, already guiding us toward a booth with a steaming cauldron.
We collect our drinks and wander through the festivities.
Everywhere I turn, someone greets Savannah and Colt, inevitably turning curious eyes to me.
The introductions follow a pattern: Savannah introduces me as "Kelsie, staying at Dad's house," which invariably produces raised eyebrows and speculative glances.
"Is it always this busy?" I ask, sipping my cocoa as we find a spot near the stage.
"Every year," Savannah confirms. "The whole town turns out. It's tradition."
"Except for your dad," Colt adds, earning an elbow in the ribs from his wife.
"He has his reasons," she says, echoing my earlier words.
I scan the crowd, unable to help looking for Tom's tall figure among the gathered townspeople. The sheriff's absence is clearly noted by others too. I overhear snippets of conversation.
"Sheriff working again?"
"Sixteen years, you'd think he'd move past it."
"Poor Savannah, another Christmas without him."
The mayor takes the stage, officially welcoming everyone to the annual tree lighting. Children from the elementary school perform a song, followed by the high school choir. Through it all, I’m half listening, distracted by thoughts of Tom alone at the station while the entire town celebrates.
"Almost time," Savannah whispers excitedly as the mayor returns to the microphone. "They'll count down from ten, then plug it in."
The crowd begins the countdown, voices merging into one enthusiastic chorus. "Ten! Nine! Eight!"
Movement at the edge of the crowd catches my eye. A tall figure in a familiar sheriff's jacket making his way through the throng. My heart leaps.
"Seven! Six! Five!"
"Savannah," I nudge her, pointing. "Look."
She follows my gaze, her expression transforming from confusion to shock to pure joy. "Dad?"
"Four! Three!"
Tom reaches us just as the countdown hits its final numbers, his expression a mixture of discomfort and determination.
"Two! One!"
The tree erupts in a dazzling display of multicolored lights, drawing gasps and cheers from the crowd. But Savannah doesn't see it. She throws herself at her father, arms wrapping around his neck.
"You came," she whispers, loud enough for only us to hear.
"Thought I'd see what all the fuss is about," he says gruffly, but his arms tighten around her briefly before letting go.
Colt offers a hand, which Tom shakes with what appears to be genuine respect rather than reluctant tolerance. "Good to see you, Sheriff."
"Colt." Tom nods, then turns to me, something uncertain in his gaze. "Kelsie."
"You made it," I say, unable to keep the pleased surprise from my voice.
"Managed to escape the paperwork." His lips quirk in what might almost be a smile. "Martinez owes me a shift anyway."
Savannah's expression could light the town without electricity. "I can't believe you're actually here. After sixteen years!"
"Don't make a big deal of it," he warns, looking distinctly uncomfortable with her enthusiasm.
"Too late." She grins, hooking her arm through his to prevent escape. "Come on, you need to see everything. The cookie contest entries are over there, and the elementary kids made ornaments, and the choir's doing carols by the gazebo."
Tom allows himself to be led through the festivities, his initial stiffness gradually easing as we navigate the celebration. When townspeople recover from their surprise at seeing him, they greet him warmly, many with knowing glances between him and me that make heat rise to my face.
"Sheriff Parker!" Mrs. Henderson from the bookstore approaches, clutching a plastic cup of what smells suspiciously stronger than hot chocolate. "What a lovely surprise! And with your houseguest too." She winks at me with grandmotherly subtlety, which is to say none whatsoever.
"Just showing Kelsie a proper Whisper Vale tradition," he says, his voice carrying the authoritative tone I recognize as his professional shield.
"About time you joined us again." Mrs. Henderson pats his arm. "Caroline's been gone sixteen years, Tom. Life goes on."
I feel him tense beside me at the mention of his ex wife's name. Before he can retreat into himself, I touch his elbow lightly.
"The ornaments are beautiful," I say, deliberately changing the subject. "Savannah mentioned there's a gazebo with carols?"
Gratitude flickers in his eyes as Mrs. Henderson takes the bait, launching into directions and recommendations for other attractions we shouldn't miss.
When we finally extract ourselves, Tom leans down slightly. "Thanks," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear despite the cold.
"For what?" I ask innocently.
"The rescue."
"Just protecting my research subject," I tease. "Can't have the grumpy sheriff scaring off my informants."
His soft chuckle sends warmth curling through me.
As the evening progresses, I watch Tom gradually relax.
He doesn't smile often, but when he does, it transforms his face, especially when directed at Savannah, who practically glows with happiness at having her father present.
Colt catches me watching them once and gives me an approving nod that suggests he understands exactly what my presence has catalyzed.
"I think I'll grab another hot chocolate," Savannah announces after we've toured most of the square. "Colt, come help me carry them?"
"I just got this one," he protests, holding up a nearly full cup.