“Faith—”
“You know it’s true. My dad is one of the most despised people around here. You would have been defeated on that fact alone.”
With Jake’s free hand, he pushed a hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry you got caught in that turbulence. You didn’t deserve it.”
She glanced at Jake’s chest, trying to find her words and knowing if she looked him in the eye that she might break down completely. She’d felt so alone ever since she left here . . . mostly because Jake hadn’t been with her. And now, at once, in this moment, her connection with Jake nearly felt magical. She felt like a piece of herself had been restored.
She licked her lips. “You know what they say . . . the chestnut doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
She expected him to chuckle. He didn’t.
When Faith ventured to look up, she saw Jake’s intense gaze on her. “Sometimes, the chestnut that falls from the tree isn’t like the rest of the chestnuts. You get an outlier, one that’s just fantastic and much better than all the rest.”
Jake’s words melted her heart.
“Will you ever forgive me, Jake?” she whispered.
“I think forgiveness is long overdue.”
Jake leaned toward her, and Faith seemed to instinctively scoot closer. His arms went to her waist. She didn’t resist his touch.
As Jake’s gaze went to her lips, her eyes closed. His mouth covered hers, and warmth exploded inside her. The kiss was just like the ones Faith remembered—only better. Full of more passion, more confidence in what they both wanted.
But, just as the moment started, Jake’s phone jostled them from their bliss. He pulled the device from his belt.
“I’ve got another call I need to get to.” His voice sounded lazy, sweet, intimate almost. “Remember the Paramours?”
“I do.” They’d been a quirky little couple.
“She’s threatening to hurt him because he didn’t hang the tinsel on the tree like she told him to.”
A small chuckle escaped from Faith. “This town is as nutty as ever.”
Jake chuckled. “Good one. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Tomorrow . . . the big day. “Yes, that sounds great. I’ll be busy for the majority of it. But I’ll see you at the concert and dance?”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
16
Jake had been grinning all day. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. Last night . . . it had stirred up emotions that he didn’t know existed any longer.
For as long as he could remember, it had always been Faith. He and Faith. Together.
Last night seemed to confirm that.
Could he get over Faith missing Jenny’s funeral? He didn’t know. He’d liked to think that with time, maybe those wounds could heal. That maybe she really did have a good explanation.
But at least he was open to the idea of exploring a relationship again. To exploring forgiveness.
He’d been thinking about their kiss all day. Thinking about how much he wanted to do it again. About how much Faith meant to him.
Even though it was only four o’clock, he decided to swing by the school and surprise Faith. He’d picked up her car early this morning and left it at the inn. Faith had called to say a quick thank you, but that was all they’d spoken.
Right now, Jake knew she was rehearsing, but maybe he could catch her for a moment. He’d already seen a lot of new people on the sidewalks, and he’d even spotted some news crews setting up near the town square. If Faith had wanted to gain attention for the town, it appeared to be working.
He gripped a bag of roasted chestnuts in his hands as he stepped into the school.
Vendors had set up on the street corners in town, and the pleasant, nutty smell drifted through the air, stirring up hundreds of memories—memories of better times. Memories that Jake actually wanted to embrace instead of shutting out.
That’s what he’d been doing lately. He’d been trying to avoid reminiscing about times past.
Maybe that was part of his problem.
As he walked down the hallway, the sounds of “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” echoed through the building. A grin crossed his face. That had been one of Jenny’s favorite songs.
His sister would sing it at the top of her lungs while doing an awkward Egyptian-like dance around every Christmas tree she came across. Despite the lack of talent, the sight had always been so full of joy.
Jake paused at a side entrance into the auditorium and spotted Faith directly in front of him. The choir was concealed from his vantage point, but it didn’t matter. Faith had his full attention.
She stood in front of the stage, a baton in her hands. Her lithe body bent with the music as the song enveloped her. Her shoulders moved and bounced with the melody. A huge grin lit her face.
She was in her element right now. Music and theater had always been her love, her talent. She was using her abilities and shining with a passion that was rare. Jake hated to see her give up her dreams.
Still grinning, Jake stepped into the auditorium and stopped dead in his tracks.
His heart lurched into his throat as the stage came into view.
The choir . . . the risers were full of people from preteens to those into their forties and fifties. Each person had Down syndrome.
Just like Jenny.
Grins lit their faces. Their voices sounded joyous. Their eyes shone brightly.
Emotion clogged his throat.
Jenny would have loved this. He’d had no idea the performance Faith had planned would be like this. In his worst moments, he’d halfway expected her to be starring in the production.
The song ended and Faith called for a five-minute break. Maybe he could catch her and tell her how touching this was.
He started toward Faith when he saw another man approach. Jake paused, wondering who the man in the fancy suit was and what he was doing here. Before he could find out, Faith’s face lit with recognition. She and the stranger began to pace his way.
Jake stepped behind the doorway to give them their privacy. Something in his gut told him that things were about to change.
But he really hoped he was wrong.
“Cole . . . what are you doing here?” Faith had no idea the man was going to show up here in Chestnut Grove. She’d contacted his publicist to see if he might have some ideas on how to get press coverage for the event on such short notice. The more attention the town got, the more likely they were to get a good turnout tonight and both raise money for the town and bring people here.
This man . . . Cole Brockman . . . he was a star maker. He owned one of the most popular theaters on Broadway, and he’d discovered some of today’s biggest names in the business. Faith had interned for him her last semester of college. The man looked all big city with his silver hair, tall build, and expensive clothing.
He shrugged as if coming here wasn’t a big deal. “I heard about what you were doing, and I knew I had to come investigate myself.”
“Investigate?” Something about that word caused her to pause.
He nodded. “That’s right. Well, first, I sent my assistant to make sure this was legit.”
Her shoulders tightened. “What are you talking about? Wait—is he the man I’ve seen following me?”
Cole shrugged again. “I told him not to let anyone know he was in town. I wanted some candid shots that we might be able to use for publicity purposes later.”
Faith crossed her arms, not loving his approach. Why so secretive? And while she wanted media attention, why did he need pictures? “I’m assuming you came here because of the choir?”
“That’s right. I love this idea. A choir consisting of people with Down syndrome?” He looked behind him at the auditorium, which was far more simple than the theaters he was associated with in New York. “There’s no better way to show that we’re all different but the same. You’ve really outdone yourself.”
“Thanks. I’m doing it to honor an old frien
d of mine.”
“You’re brilliant, Faith Winters. And talented also. A lot of people are going to be moved by this.”
“Thank you.” They paused near the doorway, and Faith waited for whatever else he had to say. There was more to him coming here and having his assistant take pictures of her. She was sure of it.
“I want you to come back to New York and star in a new show,” he announced. “With an event like this, we could create some great buzz. In today’s market, performances are about more than the play itself. It’s about the people in the play and their stories. You’ve got a great one. People around here have been telling us about your family’s history in the area. Your stint singing on commercials as a child for your family’s business. It’s media gold.”
“I don’t know—”
“The musical is being produced by Ron Banks, and he personally requested you.”
“Ron Banks?” His words caused Faith to suck in a sharp breath. Ron Banks was practically a legend in Broadway circles. “Me? But you know about my last one—”
“It wasn’t you. It was the writing for Curiosities. The music. It was all wrong. This new show can make you a star. Ron agrees.”
“But—”
“Faith, what you’re doing here is genius. I think you’ve really shown the entertainment world what they’re missing . . . you’ve shown that you’re someone to be reckoned with. I’m not sure what your angle was when you came here and planned this, but it was a brilliant move on your part.”
That hadn’t been her intention. Not at all. She hadn’t had an angle. “Cole, I don’t think—”
“Actually, don’t say anything. Just think about my offer. I’ll be in town until after the concert. Your press coverage after this is going to be phenomenal. This was a great career move, Faith. Brilliant.”
Career move? This wasn’t a career move. But she knew there was no use in explaining that to Cole. He already had his mind made up.
As Cole strode toward the back of the auditorium, someone stepped through the doorway beside her.
Jake.
His expression was stormy.
Had he just heard the last part of the conversation?
Faith’s stomach dropped as she wondered exactly how that conversation might have sounded.
17
“That’s why you came back?” The words tasted bitter as they left Jake’s lips.
But his gut reaction had been right this whole time. Her return home hadn’t been as selfless as Faith proclaimed.
He’d wanted to deny the truth. He’d nearly been convinced that Faith truly was the woman he remembered. But he’d been wrong.
Faith looked close to panic as she stood in front of him. “Jake, it’s not what you think—”
He didn’t want to hear more of her excuses. “Here I thought that you’d come home to make amends. This whole time, you just wanted to revitalize yourself, didn’t you?”
Her cheeks flushed, probably from guilt over being caught. She’d really grown as an actress over these past few years because she’d easily fooled him.
“You’re misunderstanding,” Faith insisted.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice, not bothering to hide his hurt and disappointment. “Am I? Because what it looks like is that you’re capitalizing on my sister’s death.”
Faith sucked in a shallow breath before whispering, “That’s not at all what I’m doing.”
Faith’s soft, wounded words weren’t going to deter Jake from confronting the truth. “Oh, yeah? Did you contact that man about coming here?”
She frowned, and Jake knew he’d caught her. He knew there was more to this story.
“I did contact Cole, but not necessarily about him coming or about making myself look good.”
Jake shook his head, his thoughts racing. How could he have been so dumb? He’d wanted so badly to believe Faith. For things to be like they used to. But his relationship with Faith was kind of like this town—the most merciful thing he could do was let it die.
“And the other media who are coming? You have interviews set up with them this afternoon, right?” Everything clicked together in Jake’s mind. He should have seen it earlier. Faith was going to pull on people’s heartstrings until it ultimately landed her in the limelight.
“I do. Because I want to advertise this event. Maybe it won’t bring people out today, but some news coverage will give Chestnut Grove some of the attention it deserves and hopefully help in the long run. This has nothing to do with my career. I told you—I’m finished with Broadway.”
All of Jake’s hurt surged fresh inside him. Faith’s eyes beckoned him to believe her. But he couldn’t bear to have his heart broken again.
“You know what?” he asked. “I don’t need to hear anymore. You’re exactly the person I thought you were, Faith.”
As he turned away, he saw the tears in Faith’s eyes. A momentary pang of guilt pulsed in him.
Jake couldn’t let himself get wrapped up in Faith again. Not now or ever. Maybe she was exactly like her family—and she only looked out for herself. He’d been a fool to think otherwise.
Faith paced back toward the stage but stopped herself. She couldn’t face the choir yet. Not until she pulled herself together.
“You okay?” Mrs. Duvall paused beside her, a concerned expression on her face. “That looked pretty heated.”
Faith wiped the moisture from beneath her eyes and nodded. “Yes, it’s fine—you know what? No, it’s not fine. I’m tired of saying things are fine when they’re not.”
“Your granddad used to always say that his grove wasn’t built in a day.”
“Kind of like Rome?” Faith wondered where she was going with this.
“Yes, kind of like Rome, but your granddad knew a lot more about chestnut trees than he did about the Mediterranean. He would always remind his employees when things seemed hard that they had to allow time for the growth they wanted to see.”
That sounded like something her granddad would say. “In other words, I can’t fix things between Jake and me overnight.”
She nodded. “Exactly. The tension between you has been building for years. He might want to believe you, but experience may have taught him that trusting you is a dangerous thing to do. Last time he did, his heart was broken.”
“So he’s trying to protect himself?”
“Isn’t that what we all do?”
Faith nodded, her words making sense. “I suppose it is. That’s why I stayed away from here for so long.”
Mrs. Duvall glanced behind them. “Now, I think the choir is gathering back on stage. We should probably get to rehearsing again.”
At the thought of working with the talented group on stage, Faith’s heart lifted. “Okay, let’s get busy.”
She’d have to think about Jake later. Right now, she’d focus on Jenny.
18
Jake was still fuming as the afternoon wore on. Because of his job, he’d found himself in the middle of the town’s festivities, making sure no one started any trouble. But his heart wasn’t in it.
A few times, he’d caught sight of Faith. Mostly, she’d been doing interviews about tonight’s event. Jake had seen at least five news vans pull into town.
Jake couldn’t deny that there seemed to be a new excitement here in the community. He’d seen new faces. Many had stared wide-eyed as they’d tried roasted chestnuts or other local treats.
As soon as his deputy came to take over patrol duty, Jake went back to the station, ready to be alone and to forget about what a mistake it had been to open himself up to the possibility of love again.
He sat at his desk and poured himself a cup of cold coffee. As he took a sip, his gaze fell on the plant in the corner—the one that had been dying. He’d moved it closer to the window and watered it several times. His receptionist had brought in some fertilizer also.
There, beneath some of the dead leaves, Jake spotted a fresh burst of green.
Was this plant com
ing back to life? That’s sure what it looked like.
His dad had been right. It just needed a little TLC.
As soon as the thought of his father entered his mind, the door to the station opened. Jake glanced over and saw his dad step inside, something tucked into his arm.
“I thought you might be hiding out in here.” His dad sat in the chair across from him. “You want to talk about it?”
Jake shook his head. “Not really.”
His dad nodded slowly. “Thought you might say that. I found something I want you to see.”
He glanced at his father’s hand. He held a laptop. Jenny’s laptop.
“What’s on it?” Jake asked.
His father handed it to him. “See for yourself. I finally got up the courage to look through some of her things. I found some emails that you should find interesting.”
His father tapped on a few keys before handing it to Jake. “I’ll let you read it alone.”
Jake wasn’t sure he was ready to read anything. But his father seemed to think it was important. He braced himself to be confronted with the bittersweet memories of his sister.
He sucked in a breath when he saw what was on the screen—emails between Jenny and Faith. He knew the two liked to write each other. Jenny had been very high functioning and had been a great communicator. Because Faith seemed to sleep while Jenny worked and vice versa, they’d taken to emailing each other.
He started to shut the computer and forget about it. Those emails weren’t his business. It would be an invasion of privacy.
But he changed his mind. Maybe he’d just scan the letters. He wasn’t committing to reading all of them—just enough to satisfy his curiosity.
He glanced at the first one. It was dated around nine months ago. That was right around the time Jenny had begun having heart problems.
The first email was from Faith.
Jenny,
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