Chapter 3
Tessa stood at the sink in her father’s kitchen, her fingers absently tracing the chip in the countertop that had been there since she was twelve.
Nothing much had changed in this house, and yet everything felt different.
The walls were the same faded yellow her mother had chosen two decades ago, but there were small touches that weren’t her father’s, like a well-used cookbook on the counter and a handmade wooden spoon rest by the stove.
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.”
The gentleness in Annie’s voice made her throat tighten unexpectedly. She looked away, focusing on the snow falling outside the window.
“I’m not judging him,” she said, though part of her knew that wasn’t entirely true. “I just... I don’t understand why my father would let a stranger into our home without telling me.”
“Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you. You two haven’t exactly been on speaking terms.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Their phone calls over the years had been brief and infrequent, more obligation than connection.
“And Beckett’s not a stranger to your dad anymore,” Annie continued. “They’ve been living together for six months. Stan’s been doing better with him around. More social. He even came to the Harvest Festival in October.”
The image of her stoic, withdrawn father at a town festival was almost impossible to reconcile with the man she knew. The man who had retreated into silence and rigid routine after her mother died and who seemed more comfortable with her academic achievements than with Tessa herself.
“I don’t know who my father is anymore,” she admitted quietly.
Annie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. People change. Sometimes for the better.”
Before she could respond, the door opened, and a gust of cold air swept into the cafe. She turned to see Beckett standing in the doorway, snowflakes clinging to his jacket and hair. His eyes found hers immediately, and something in his expression shifted—surprise, then what might have been concern.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, his voice low. “Your father was worried when he woke up and you weren’t there.”
Guilt poked at her, quickly followed by annoyance. “I left a note.”
“He found it. But he wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Considering her father hadn’t checked on her when she was a young girl, it seemed strange he’d choose now to worry about her. She was a grown woman, for Pete’s sake. “You could have just called me.”
“I tried. I heard your phone ringing in your room.”
Now that surprised her. She never went anywhere without her phone. She felt her pockets. Nope, no phone. “Oh, sorry.” Then she frowned. “Wait, you left him alone? After a stroke?” The nurse in her immediately took over, concern and professional judgment flooding her system.
He didn’t flinch at her sharp tone. He simply stood there, shoulders relaxed, his gaze steady. “He’s not in any immediate danger,” he said calmly. “I never leave him for long. Only when he’s settled in the front room with everything he needs within reach.”
“But what if something happens?” she pressed, aware of Annie watching their exchange.
“I make sure his phone is charged and within reach. The neighbors check in, and I’m never gone more than thirty minutes. It’s important to him to still feel some independence.” His voice remained even, not defensive but matter-of-fact.
She crossed her arms. “Independence isn’t worth the risk.”
“With all due respect, your father disagrees. And his doctor says limited periods alone are fine at this stage.” He glanced out the window at the softly falling snow. “Besides, someone needs to buy groceries and run errands. He’s not up to that right now.”
His words made practical sense, but it still bothered her. How could this man. who’d known her father for only six months, presume to know what was best for him?
“I’m here now. I can handle the errands.”
Something flickered across his face. Not annoyance, but something closer to understanding. “That would be helpful. You could pick up his prescription at the drugstore. It’s ready.”
“I’ll head there now.” She rose from her chair.
“Then I’ll head back home.” He nodded at Annie and headed out the door.
Home. He called her father’s cabin home.
Annie rose and collected the dishes. “Don’t be a stranger while you’re here, okay? We still have a lot of catching up to do.”
She nodded, suddenly overwhelmed by the genuine warmth in Annie’s voice. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her with such open affection, without the expectation of competence and control that defined her life in Denver.
“Thanks for the coffee and the conversation.”
She paused as she stepped outside and saw Beckett standing just outside the doorway. He was chatting with Miss Judy, the cook from Nora’s lodge.
“Tessa, hi. Welcome home,” Miss Judy greeted her cheerfully.
“Hey, Miss Judy. Good to see you.” She smiled and headed toward the drugstore, but not before she heard Beckett and Miss Judy talking about the holiday meal drive that he was evidently helping with.
She paused at the corner, watching as Miss Judy laughed at something Beckett said.
The older woman patted his arm with the easy familiarity of someone who’d known him for years, not months.
It bothered her more than it should, seeing how seamlessly he’d woven himself into the community of Sweet River Falls.
Into her father’s life. Into her childhood home.
He belonged here in a way she no longer did.
Everyone seemed to know him, trust him, like him.
The ex-con who’d somehow charmed the entire town, including her emotionally distant father.
It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this homecoming made sense.
Not the way her father had welcomed a stranger but barely acknowledged his own daughter.
Not the way the town had embraced Beckett without question.
Then a thought startled her.
She was jealous. Jealous of Beckett. Jealous of the way he fit in and she didn’t. Never had really. Well, not since her mother died.
But as she continued to walk along the sidewalk in the brilliant sunshine, surrounded by clear mountain air, she started to relax.
She found herself thinking about what Annie had said.
Not everyone is the sum of their worst moment.
She wondered if that applied to her too, to the ways she’d failed or the bridges she’d burned.
To the panic attacks she’d been hiding from everyone at work, the trembling hands she’d been disguising, and the exhaustion that had finally caught up with her.
Maybe coming back to Sweet River Falls wasn’t just about taking care of her father. Maybe, whether she wanted to admit it or not, it was about finding a way to breathe again.