Chapter 16
Together, Penny and Daniel headed out into the bright afternoon sunshine. The air was crisp and pleasant with a light breeze carrying a hint of snow.
“Mmm,” Penny said, breathing in. “Snow is coming.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed. “You can tell by smell?”
“Kind of,” she said. “Though I suppose it’s not really a scent.”
“What is it?”
“More like a change in humidity and temperature.”
“I need to try.” He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, then did it again. “Sorry,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m getting nothing.”
“It’s probably something you need experience with.”
He pulled out his phone. “Let’s see what the forecast says.” A few taps later, he smiled. “Flurries expected in a couple of hours.”
She touched her nose. “The nose knows.”
He laughed. “They we should get moving. Which way?”
“Let’s start in the square.” After checking for traffic, they crossed the street and headed down one of the paths winding through the snow-covered town square. Everywhere they looked, snow-people and snow-creatures were there to greet them.
“Whoa, lots of snowmen,” Daniel said. “It’s like an invasion.”
“Heartsprings Valley is kind of famous for its love of snow-men, snow-women, snow-kids, and snow-animals.”
He pointed to a jolly snow-hippopotamus gazing at them with a happy smile. “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen one of these before.”
“He was here last year, too,” she said. “Clearly, someone enjoys making him.” She gestured to the gazebo up ahead.
“On the nights leading up to Christmas, carolers meet at the gazebo before heading out to serenade their neighbors. And on Christmas Eve, a big crowd gathers here for the town’s annual holiday concert. ”
“Nice.”
“Do you know the singer Melody Connelly?”
His brow furrowed. “I think I know who she is. Beautiful voice? Does Broadway? Red hair?”
“That’s her. She lives part of the year in Heartsprings Valley — she married a local guy, my friend James, a couple of years ago — and when she’s in town, she takes part in the Christmas Eve concert.”
“So you’ve met her?”
“Oh, of course. She’s a big reader.”
As they reached the edge of the square, Penny pointed across the street. “See that adorable little shop?”
Daniel followed her finger. “Abby’s Chocolate Heaven?”
“A must-see for any visitor to Heartsprings Valley. The owner, my friend Abby, makes chocolates by hand in the kitchen behind the shop.”
They crossed the street and approached the store. Daniel bent down to examine the delicious chocolates in the window display. In addition to a tempting array of nougats and truffles, the display featured a beautifully crafted gingerbread church.
“Nice detail on the gingerbread,” he said. “Is it based on a real church?”
“It’s a gingerbread version of the town’s community center, which was originally a church.”
“The icing on the stained glass windows is incredible.”
“The artist is my friend Becca. It’s become an annual tradition for her to make a gingerbread house for the window of Abby’s shop at Christmas. This is the fifth or sixth year she’s done one.”
“She’s a local artist?”
“The town librarian.”
“From what I hear, making a gingerbread house is pretty involved.”
“Oh, gosh, it can take days. Between being a librarian and a wife and the mother of two young kids, I don’t know how she finds the time.”
Daniel smiled. “Seems like everywhere we turn in this square, you have friends. The cafe owner, the Broadway singing star, the local guy who married the Broadway singing star, the chocolate shop owner, the town librarian….”
“I’m grateful for each and every one of them.”
“Do you see them often?”
“When we’re not busy, fairly often. Is it like that for you in New York?”
He considered. “Not really. I don’t see my friends as often as I’d like, mainly because of distance. Getting from one part of the city to another takes time.”
“How much time?”
“For example, I live on the Upper West Side and have good friends in Brooklyn, and they’re an hour away, give or take.” He gestured to the chocolate shop’s door. “Do you want to go in?”
Penny peeked through the window and spied Abby at the counter helping a customer, with another customer waiting her turn.
“She’s busy. Maybe later?”
Daniel nodded. “Which way now?”
She pointed right. “To the hardware store we go.” She glanced at her companion. “So tell me. Did you enjoy last night’s Wassail?”
“I did,” he said without hesitation. “It was a fun event. Gabe and Holly brought together a good crowd.”
“I was worried a couple of folks might have been a bit … forward.”
He chuckled. “You mean Eva? And Mabel?”
“The two of them came to mind, yes.”
He shrugged. “Eva’s young and enthusiastic. She means well. Figuring out boundaries is part of growing up.”
“Agree.”
“And Mabel is….” He paused, weighing his words. “She’s one of those people who doesn’t hold back. I respect that about her because she isn’t doing it to be mean or to gain advantage. Her intentions are good.”
“She can be a bit blunt at times, but you’re right, she means well. She apologized to me afterward.”
“To me as well.”
“I should warn you, she and Eva aren’t the only ones like that. Poking and prodding and pushing are part of the culture up here. Heartsprings Valley may be a small town, but its meddling energy is big.”
Daniel smiled. “So I should expect more?”
“Forewarned is forearmed.”
“Understood.”
They’d reached their destination, Cane Hardware. With Christmas fast approaching, the store was busy, with folks hurrying in and out.
Penny turned to face Daniel. “Now that I’ve given you fair warning, can I do a bit of poking of my own?”
“Poke away.”
“I’ve been thinking about what Ed and Ike said about your Christmas essay.”
His eyes flickered with curiosity. “Specifically?”
“They called it ‘an opening salvo.’”
He nodded. “Ah.”
“I wasn’t sure what they meant by that, but then I remembered what you said during our conference call with Nigel. Your wording with him was careful.”
“Which words are you referring to?”
“You promised Nigel that you’d participate in the Christmas tour fully and without reservation — which you’ve done, by the way.”
He nodded.
“You also said that you’ll decide what you’ll say about Christmas after you finish immersing yourself in Christmas. At first, I thought you said that because you wanted to experience everything before deciding how you’ll describe it.”
“But now?”
“I’m pretty sure your words were a reminder.”
“Of…?”
She gazed up at him. His expression was so intent, like what she was saying mattered to him.
“You were reminding Nigel — maybe even warning him— that, even though you agreed to come to Heartsprings Valley and immerse yourself in Christmas, you have not yet agreed to say nice things about the holiday.”
He nodded. “Your read is correct.”
“You promised to give Christmas a fair shake — and that’s it.”
“Couldn’t have put it better myself.”
As she took in his demeanor, she became aware of an unexpected tension rising within her. His words weren’t a surprise — she’d spent enough time with him since his arrival to understand how serious and careful he could be — but hearing him confirm her guess made his stance feel all the more real.
Four short days ago, Daniel Bedford had been nothing more to her than an author whose books she’d read and enjoyed.
Then he’d morphed, without warning, into a much-needed way to pay for a new roof.
And now? He’d become something much more: an intense, intelligent, handsome man whose dark brown eyes flashed whenever they landed on her.
She’d accepted the author-sitting gig with zero intention of trying to alter his misguided opinion of Christmas.
After all, he was a grown man, capable of charting his own course.
The decisions he made about his life and career were his and his alone.
She was here to be a tour guide, not a mind-changer.
But now? Was that still how she felt?
Ask him what you want to know, she urged herself as she held his gaze. Do it now.
“In two days,” she said, “you’re giving a press conference at the bookstore.”
He nodded. “Correct.”
“Your publisher and agent are hoping you’ll stand up in front of the media and apologize for upsetting folks with your essay. They’re hoping you’ll tell the world that your essay is wrong — that Christmas is, in fact, wonderful.”
“They’re hoping I’ll say that, yes.”
“But you haven’t committed to saying that.”
“Correct. I have not.”
Her jaw tightened. She’d guessed right — which wasn’t good. “That means it’s possible you’ll get up there and announce to the world that you haven’t changed your mind — and that your essay still reflects how you feel.”
“That might happen, yes.”
She did her best to keep her voice calm. “Why?”
“It’s not in me to consider doing anything else.” He drew himself to his full height, his gaze more serious and intense than she’d ever seen it. “If I don’t believe it, I don’t say it. What I say is what I believe.”