No one had ever set his heart on fire like she did. That was a tough pill to swallow since Jake knew they could never be together. What did that even mean for his future?
“Well?” Ms. Gingham asked. “Timmy is here also.”
“Timmy?” A grin stretched across Faith’s face. “I’d love to see Timmy again.”
Ms. Gingham smiled back. “I thought you might.”
Jake knew there was no use in arguing. There was no way he could get out of this dinner. Besides, the scents drifting from the house caused his stomach to rumble. “I’d love to stay.”
Ms. Gingham grinned. “Perfect. Come on in. I just set everything out on the table.”
He quickly glanced at Faith. She looked as uneasy as he felt.
Faith’s heart lifted when she saw Timmy Holman standing in the kitchen with a cup of hot cocoa in his hands. She had no idea what his reaction would be to her, but she hoped he was as happy to see her as she was him. She’d never known him to be the type to hold grudges.
“Faith!” Timmy put his mug on the table and lumbered toward her. His thick arms wrapped around her, and he pulled her feet off the floor as his embrace crushed her.
She let out a little laugh as the air left her lungs. “It’s so good to see you.”
Timmy set her down and grinned. “You too, Faith. I’ve missed you. We all have.”
Faith’s heart pounded with a thud at the sound of his heartfelt words. “I don’t know about that. But I do know it’s great to see you.”
The boy—man, really—hadn’t changed much since Faith had seen him last. He’d put on some weight, adding to his already burly figure. But his eyes looked just as innocent and warm as ever. He had Down syndrome, and the town had practically adopted him.
Last Faith heard, he delivered newspapers, on top of doing miscellaneous jobs like clearing and salting sidewalks around Chestnut Grove.
He’d been madly in love with Jenny, practically following her wherever she went. It had been sweet, and Jenny had always been so kind to him.
Ms. Gingham clapped her hands and directed everyone into the dining room. “Okay, let’s sit down and eat before the food gets cold.”
Faith paused when she saw the meal before her. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and homemade rolls. She hadn’t eaten like this since she left Chestnut Grove. Her stomach grumbled with anticipation.
She couldn’t wait to taste it.
A few minutes later, the prayer had been prayed and the food had been passed around the table. They each dug in, making small talk about the food and weather.
“I saw you in town earlier,” Timmy said, glancing at Faith as she stabbed a piece of gravy-laden meat with her fork.
The man had always been a little shy and bashful, but those qualities just made him more enduring.
“Did you?” Faith didn’t remember seeing him.
“Outside the school. You were walking in. I don’t think you saw me.”
“I sure didn’t. I would have said hi if I had. How are things going for you, Timmy?” She honestly wanted to know.
“Good. I’m delivering papers still. You should see my new bike. It’s tricked out.” He waggled his eyebrows with delight.
“It’s got a big basket on the back,” Ms. Gingham said. “On occasion, Timmy picks up groceries for people also and delivers them, so he’s gotten a lot of use out of it.”
“Jake bought it for me.”
Faith’s gaze went to Jake, and he nodded with a humble shrug.
“I did. I know all the best places to invest my money. Timmy here is at the top.” Jake clapped a hand over Timmy’s shoulder affectionately.
Timmy beamed.
Jake lowered his fork for a minute and turned to Timmy. “You heard about the Christmas decorations that have been stolen in town, didn’t you?”
Timmy nodded and tore off a piece of his dinner roll.
“Have you seen anything? You’re practically a patrol officer around this town as much as you’re on the streets delivering papers.”
“No, I haven’t seen anything.” He chomped down, like he wanted to say more but didn’t.
“What is it, Timmy?” Jake tilted his head, his finely tuned instincts seeming to kick in.
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You can say it,” Jake said. “We’re all safe people to share secrets with.”
“It’s just that . . . I saw Mr. Foggerty take a cupcake from the bakery a couple days ago. No one else saw him. He ate it and didn’t pay.” Timmy’s voice held disbelief and outrage at what he’d witnessed.
“So you think he might be responsible for the other crimes here recently?” Jake pushed.
Timmy frowned. “He’s a mean man.”
No one argued.
“He yelled at me for honking the clown horn on my bike once,” Timmy continued.
“He has a tendency to yell at everyone,” Jake said. “But I’ll see if I can find out anything.”
Just as they finished their dinner, Ms. Gingham cleared her throat and rose. “Since all of you are here, I have an announcement I need to make. I’m selling the inn.”
“Selling the inn?” Faith said with a gasp. “Why would you do that?”
“There just aren’t enough guests. And this place is so big. I need to find something smaller. And maybe find some kind of job to help make ends meet.”
“But you’re eighty-two,” Jake said. “You really want to get a job now?”
Her face wrinkled into a frown. “You know I don’t have retirement. I’ve always just gotten by on the profit I make here. It’s always balanced out somehow. But not over the past two years. I’ve had to make some hard choices.”
“Certainly there’s something we can do,” Jake said.
She shook her head, leaving no room for argument. “It’s not up for discussion. It is what it is. Now, let’s take dessert and coffee in the parlor. I didn’t say that to make people sad. I just wanted you all to know.”
8
Faith couldn’t deny the tension in the room as they all moved into the parlor, where a warm fire had been lit. Timmy had dismissed himself—said his mom had called him to come home. Faith suspected that he was mostly sad and wanting to get away before anyone noticed how upset he was. That just left Faith, Jake, and Ms. Gingham.
Ms. Gingham’s words echoed in her mind. Selling the inn? Nothing was more a sure sign of the town dying than that. This place had been a staple around Chestnut Grove for decades.
Sadness pressed on Faith, and she almost felt like she was losing someone she loved. Jake seemed to share the sentiment as they sat quietly beside each other.
Ms. Gingham came back into the room with a tray full of goodies.
Sugar. So much sugar.
Faith’s body was going to revolt if she had too much in one day. But one look at the cookies, and Faith knew she wouldn’t be able to resist eating at least one.
“Chestnut praline cookies,” Ms. Gingham said, her voice lilting with delight. “You’ve got to try them.”
Faith took a bite of the crumbly treat. She closed her eyes as the buttery, nutty flavor washed over her taste buds. “This is wonderful.”
Ms. Gingham beamed. “Try the drink. It’s a vanilla chestnut latte. I’ve been working on perfecting the recipe for several months.”
She picked up a warm mug decorated with a painted Christmas scene and took a sip. Another wave of delight passed through Faith, leaving her craving more. It wasn’t a great sign for her waist, but it was a superb accolade to Ms. Gingham’s recipe.
“Ms. Gingham, this is fantastic,” she muttered.
“Thank you. It’s always good for your hard work to be appreciated.”
“No, I mean these cookies and this drink are really good,” Faith said. “I know this town is known for their chestnut blitzes, but these are just as good. Maybe even better.”
“I agree.” Jake raised his steaming mug for another sip.
Ms. Gingham s
at down in a chair across from them, perching daintily on the edge. “I’m so delighted you’re enjoying them. Nothing makes me happier.”
Jake shifted. “I know you said you want to sell this place, but have you thought about my idea anymore?”
Faith perked. What idea what he talking about?
Ms. Gingham waved a hand in the air. “It’s a great idea, but I’m entirely too old to try something like that.”
“Like what?” Faith took another sip of her drink, curious about the conversation.
“Jake thinks I should capitalize on this piece of property and transform it into a destination of sorts.”
Faith looked at Jake. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I mean that mountain getaways are popular, especially when they’re coupled with experiences—apple picking, festivals, music, nightlife. There’s potential for all of that right here.”
Faith’s pulse spiked at the thought. “He could be onto something. My friends in New York always want to get away to Instagram-worthy places. I could easily envision a big deck out back with a firepit and rafters with dangling strings of lights. Maybe a stage or a pavilion where people could buy local specialties.”
“I don’t know about Instagraph or anything,” Ms. Gingham said. “But people have already had the chance to come here, and they haven’t. Why would a big deck and string lights change anything?”
“I’m telling you—there’s a big business to be found here,” Jake said. “People just need a reason to come.”
Ms. Gingham frowned, still appearing unconvinced. “Well, maybe the next owner will take that into account.”
Jake’s thoughts churned so fiercely that he felt a rumbling inside his head. Ms. Gingham couldn’t sell the inn. Her decision almost felt like the nail that sealed the coffin. If Ms. Gingham gave up, why would anyone hold on to hope?
“So, tell us, Faith, how is life in the big city?” Ms. Gingham looked sincerely interested as she raised her own cookie to her lips. “We heard you were starring in that Broadway musical.”
“It was actually an off-Broadway show,” Faith corrected, shoving a hair behind her ear.
Why did she look uncomfortable? Jake wondered. He wasn’t sure. But there was something Faith wasn’t saying.
“How was the off-Broadway show?” Ms. Gingham said. “What was the name of it again?”
“It was called Curiosities.” Faith looked like she might choke on her food at any time. She lowered her cookie back onto her poinsettia-decorated napkin. “It was actually canceled.”
Canceled? Really? Jake had assumed it had taken off and that Faith was living the life she’d always dreamed about. He’d assumed she probably had a rich boyfriend at her side and a whole set of new jet-setting friends. He’d assumed that Chestnut Grove and her life here was all but forgotten, overshadowed by life in the big city.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ms. Gingham said. “You’ve always been so talented. I can’t believe it was canceled.”
“Critics weren’t kind regarding my performance. That pretty much sealed the show’s fate. It lasted only two weeks. One critic in particular said that the show had rested on my shoulders and I had been unable to carry the weight.”
“That’s too bad,” Ms. Gingham said. “What else do you have lined up?”
Faith shrugged, her face still pale. “Nothing for now. Honestly? I’m hanging up my hat. I’m done with show business, so to speak.”
“Really?” Surprise raced through Jake’s voice. For as long as he’d known Faith, she’d lived for this stuff. “But it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do.”
She shrugged. “I know. But sometimes you just need to accept reality for what it is.”
Jake knew there must be more to this story, but he had no idea what. For some reason, he desperately wanted to know what would cause Faith to walk away from doing the very thing she’d always wanted to do.
Ms. Gingham cleared her throat and raised her latte. “You never did say what brought you here, Faith.”
No, Faith hadn’t, had she? He’d heard she was helping with the Christmas Extravaganza. What he didn’t understand was why.
Jake listened even more closely, curious to hear what she’d say.
Faith put her cup down, and her hesitant gaze met his. “I’m actually . . . well, I’m leading the town’s Christmas production this year.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that?”
Her wavering gaze met his. “I . . . I was going to tell you sooner. But I want to do something to honor Jenny.”
Something to honor Jenny? She couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t think she was going to waltz back into town, take the lead in the town’s performance, dedicate it to Jenny, and have everything return to normal.
Jake rushed to his feet, careful to keep his voice even. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Faith.”
“Jake—” Faith started, looking like she’d been slapped across the face.
“You could have honored Jenny by coming to her funeral. Or maybe by checking on her when she was sick. Showing her you cared.”
“Jake—”
He held up his hand to stop her from continuing. He didn’t want to hear any more excuses. “Actually, I need to run. Thank you for the wonderful meal, Ms. Gingham.”
And with those final words, he left.
9
Early Friday morning, Faith went to meet Mrs. Duvall at the school. The kids had officially started Christmas break that day, and everyone was preparing for the big town celebration that would kick off the next day.
Even though Faith still didn’t have a car, she’d enjoyed the walk to the school. It had taken thirty minutes, but she’d worn sensible shoes this time. The cold had been invigorating.
She was grateful to have something to keep her mind occupied. Her conversations the night before still haunted her thoughts. First, Ms. Gingham said she was selling the inn. Faith just couldn’t imagine this town without Ms. Gingham and her inn. It wouldn’t be the same.
Then there was the talk with Jake . . . which had gone even worse than she’d imagined.
Jake had every right to be angry. Would Faith ever get through to him and help him realize the truth? She doubted it. Part of her felt like she deserved his rejection.
She knew she could tell him her side, that she could try to explain her reasons for not visiting Jenny. But her gut told her it would make no difference. His mind was made up, and his opinion was clear.
“It’s so good to see you!” Mrs. Duvall grinned as she stepped out of the office, a stack of papers in her hands.
The teacher wore a Christmas sweater that made her look like a wrapped present. She was certainly in the holiday spirit.
“You always brighten my mood.” Faith smiled, trying to cast her dismay aside.
“We have so little time to pull this off.” Mrs. Duvall said. “Do you think we can do it?”
“I sure hope so. I was on my computer all evening trying to make contact with the right people. Everyone I talked to was enthusiastic.”
Mrs. Duvall readjusted the papers in her arms, memories seeming to play across her gaze. “I think Jenny would have really liked this, Faith.”
Another smile feathered across her lips at the mention of her friend. “I hope so.”
But Jake’s admonition still remained centerstage in her mind.
Faith cleared her throat, trying to focus her thoughts. “So I hear there are a lot of activities planned, most of them with chestnuts, just like in the old days.”
“People had to figure out something to do with all these chestnuts.” A smile flashed across her face. “One of the highlights is our annual performance here at the high school, followed by the community dance in the auditorium. To end the evening, there will be the annual Christmas tree lighting.”
“That was always a highlight.”
“Starting tomorrow morning, we’ll have chestnuts roasting on the open fire. The kids will decorate chestnu
ts and make them into Christmas ornaments. There will be a race to see who can roll their chestnut down the street the fastest.”
Despite the hard feelings between Faith and the town, the events sounded simply perfect. “I can’t wait. I already sent the music to everyone who said they were interested in being a part of the choir. So far we have fourteen.”
“That’s a great starting number.” Together, they began walking down the otherwise quiet hallway.
“I’m concerned about where everyone will be housed,” Faith continued. “A lot of people can drive in and even drive back home that evening, if they wish. But some might want or need to stay. The inn has six bedrooms for guests, but that won’t be enough.”
“There are several cabins that are up for rent on the outskirts of town. Plus, I can put a few people up at my house. Bill and I have three extra bedrooms. I’m sure I can find a few more people who will want to help.”
“Are you sure they’ll want to when they find out I’m involved?” Faith’s throat burned as the words left her lips.
Mrs. Duvall squeezed her arm and offered a kind smile as they paused outside the auditorium doors. “Of course they will. Give people a chance.”
To break the silence that fell after Mrs. Duvall’s overly optimistic statement, Faith cleared her throat and shifted. “So what’s up with people’s decorations being stolen?”
They stepped into the auditorium. “Isn’t it the weirdest thing? No one knows who’s behind it. Well, I mean, I’m sure someone knows. But it’s all a big mystery.”
“Sounds like a real-life grinch.”
“You can say that again. Like the town hasn’t been miserable enough at Christmastime the last couple years.” Mrs. Duvall slapped a hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Faith offered a sad smile, not wanting to see her friend feeling poorly about speaking the truth. Mrs. Duvall didn’t have to spell it out for Faith to know she was referring to the factory shutting down. “No, it’s okay. I understand.”
Home to Chestnut Grove Page 5
