by Cindy Kirk
“I didn’t do anything,” Stella protested. “Except take her picture before she fell. Sam was the one who helped them up and gave the boy who caused the fall a scolding.”
Mel pushed the money back toward Stella. “I’ve already thanked Sam. He told me he wouldn’t have seen them go down if it hadn’t been for you.”
Sensing this was a battle she couldn’t win, Stella scooped up the money and stuffed it into her pocket. She lifted the cup of steaming cocoa in a mock salute. “Well, thank you. Camryn is a cute girl.”
“She’s a doll. I always thought when I marry and have a daughter, I’d want her to be just like Cam.” A bleak look filled Melinda’s gaze.
There was a story here, Stella thought. But even if a group of teenagers hadn’t arrived at the stand, Stella wasn’t sure she’d have asked any questions.
“Thanks for the skates, Mel.” Stella lifted a hand in a wave as she walked away.
The ding of her phone had her glancing down at the screen.
Call me.
The text was from Jane. A chill traveled up Stella’s spine.
She’d only been in Holly Pointe for forty-eight hours. Jane couldn’t be expecting a story already, could she?
Stella had never been to a soup supper at a church before. Not sure exactly where to go, after hanging her coat on one of several freestanding metal racks on the main floor, Stella simply followed the crowd.
The stairwell leading to the basement was wide, and there were people coming up as she went down. Which was to be expected, considering the supper started at five, and it was now nearly six.
She probably should have come promptly at five, or even a few minutes before, to get a few shots of the setup. But her conversation with Jane had been a downer.
Despite the fact that Stella had only arrived in town yesterday, Jane was already pushing for results. When Jane continued to press for any possibilities, Stella mentioned Santa might have a drinking problem.
“Be sure and include that in your article,” Jane asserted even though Stella stressed she had no proof.
By the time Stella clicked off the call, she had a headache. Though much of the tension gripping her neck had to do with Jane, Stella knew her conversation with Sam had contributed.
Simply telling him what her father had said about her journalistic integrity had guilt rising like bile in her throat. Dan Carpenter wouldn’t approve of this assignment. Heck, Stella wasn’t all that thrilled with it herself.
But as she’d told Jane this afternoon, she would verify and confirm before putting any impressions in the article. The managing editor hadn’t argued with her, hadn’t said anything in response to the statement. But even with a thousand miles separating them, Jane’s disapproval had come through loud and clear.
A short nap, two ibuprofen, and half a can of cola later, the headache was gone. Feeling better than she had in hours, Stella reached the bottom of the steps and squared her shoulders, reminding herself that the article wasn’t due for nearly a month. That gave her plenty of time to gather information and verify any suspicions.
She let her gaze slide around the large fellowship hall, taking note of the lighting and picking a couple of good spots for pictures. Then Stella found herself searching for the three women she’d begun to think of as friends and the one man she couldn’t seem to shake loose from her thoughts.
Coming up empty on all four, she pushed aside her disappointment and reminded herself that she was here to work, not socialize.
Despite the plan to ease into this evening’s event, Stella took a couple of shots that she quickly posted. She updated the blog and Instagram with some amazing soup pictures before getting in the line.
An easel at the front of the line held a whiteboard with a list of available soups: chicken noodle, vegetable barley, fish chowder, and baked potato.
Stella frowned. The soup she’d looked forward to all day wasn’t on the board. “What happened to the chili?”
The woman behind the makeshift counter was talking to another volunteer and obviously hadn’t heard the question. A light touch on Stella’s shoulder had her turning.
“You’re looking for chili?” The man was about her height, with sandy hair and green eyes that twinkled. His flannel shirt, work boots, and scarred knuckles told Stella he was no stranger to hard work.
“I am.” She returned his smile. “Do you know where I can find some?”
He jerked his head in the direction of a hallway. “That-a-way.”
Stella had noticed several people entering the hall but had simply assumed the restrooms were in that direction.
“It’s homemade bread and soup in this room.” About her age, the guy had square shoulders and a broad chest. “Chili and cinnamon rolls are down the hall.”
“Did you say cinnamon rolls?” Stella’s mouth instantly began to water. Sweets, especially pastries, were her kryptonite.
“I realize pairing them with chili makes for an odd combin—”
“Not odd at all.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Honestly, I think it sounds amazing.”
“Hey.”
Stella swiveled her head, and there was Sam.
The blue in Sam’s sweater provided a nice contrast to his dark eyes. His curious gaze settled on her hand, the one still resting on the stranger’s arm.
“Sam. Hi.” She smiled and let her hand casually drop as pleasure rippled through her. “I wondered if I’d see you here.”
“I was telling Stella, if she’s hoping for chili and cinnamon rolls, she’s in the wrong line.”
Stella cocked her head. “How do you know my name?”
“I told him.” Sam grinned. “Derek and I are friends.”
“You’re Mel’s brother.” Stella studied the guy for several heartbeats. “You were one of the guys cleaning the ice off the lake.”
“Derek Kelly.” He flashed an engaging smile. “You’re an observant woman.”
“Guilty as charged,” Stella lifted both hands. “I used to be a reporter. Curiosity and alertness are two necessary qualities.”
“I bet.”
Stella waited for him to say more, but Derek simply slanted a glance at his friend.
“Is Mel coming tonight?” she asked.
Derek shook his head. “She’s working at the diner this evening.”
At Stella’s obvious confusion, he continued. “Our mother owns Rosie’s Diner. Mom recently had knee surgery, so Mel and I have been filling in when needed.”
“That’s nice of both of you.”
“We’re family.” He appeared startled by her comment. “Of course we’d help.”
That was how it had been with Stella and her parents. They’d do anything to help each other out, to be there whenever needed. Once they were gone, she realized just how much she’d depended on their guidance, on their support.
For months, it had been a major effort to just get out of bed in the morning. Once her world began to settle, Stella had vowed that she would never become that dependent on anyone again.
She would stand on her own two feet.
“Are you going to check out the other room?” Sam asked, as if bored by the conversation.
“I am. Which means I better get out of this line and into another.” Stella extended her hand to Derek. “It was nice meeting you.”
Derek shook it. “The pleasure is mine.”
“I’ll come with you.” To her surprise, Sam turned to Derek. “What about you? Don’t you want chili?”
“Naw, I’ve got my heart set on baked potato soup and beer bread.” Derek waved a hand in the air. “You kids go and have fun.”
Stella chuckled.
Sam rolled his eyes. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
Us.
It was silly to get a buzz from a carelessly tossed word. But it had her relaxing as they strolled down the hallway, the freshly polished linoleum floor gleaming in the fluorescent lights.
“And here I tho
ught the other room was crowded.” Stella slipped out her phone and snapped a few photos as they fell into a line that extended into the hall.
An older woman with peppered hair pulled back in a low knot turned. “The cinnamon rolls are from Dough See Dough. They’re absolutely amazing.”
“Just the smell is making my mouth water,” Stella admitted.
When they finally reached the front of the line, Stella discovered another fact about the delicious-smelling rolls. They were huge.
She slanted a pleading glance at Sam. “Want to split one with me?”
“Sure.” He waved away the one about to be handed to him. “None for me, Darlene.”
“If you change your mind, just let me know.” Darlene reminded Stella of her mother, with brown hair cut in a bob and wide lips curved in a perpetual smile.
“Will do,” Sam told the woman as they moved down the serving line.
“Welcome to the chili cookoff.” It took Stella only a second to place the man. Santa, er, Kenny.
“We have three kinds of chili this evening. The Boilermaker Tailgate is spicy and includes Guinness beer. The Flatlander is both spicy and sweet. For those who prefer no legumes, we have a Texas no-beans option.” Kenny handed Stella and Sam each a tray. “You’ll get one small bowl of each, but feel free to come back for seconds. On your tray is a ballot, and we ask you to vote for your favorite of the bunch.”
Stella had questions, but the line was pushing her forward. She waited until she and Sam were seated at the end of a large table with a bunch of high school kids to ask him.
“When do we pay?” She glanced down at her tray. At the three bowls of chili and the humongous cinnamon roll. At the glass of iced tea that Sam had picked up for her from the refreshment table along the wall.
Sam gestured with one hand to a large glass jar filled with bills. “Free-will offering.”
“What if someone doesn’t pay?”
Sam dipped his spoon into the Boilermaker chili. “Then, they don’t pay.”
“How is that fair?”
Sam gazed at her with eyes that reminded her of liquid chocolate. “This is a community event with a lot of volunteers. If someone can’t afford to give—or chooses not to donate—that’s okay.”
The Christmas capital of kindness, Stella thought as she forked off a bite of the massive cinnamon roll and watched an elderly couple slowly make their way to a nearby table.
Two teenage boys followed, each carrying a full tray. They set the food on the table the couple had chosen. Seconds later, they returned with two cups of coffee from the refreshment table and set them in front of the couple.
“I don’t want to get old,” Stella mused, listening to the couples’ effusive thanks. The woman even insisted on giving each boy a hug. “I don’t want to be dependent on anyone.”
She said it with such fierceness that Sam set down his spoon and raised a brow. “Is aging the issue? Or accepting help?”
“I don’t want to be in the position of having to lean on anyone.” Stella lifted her glass of tea and took a long drink. “Ever.”
Sam dipped his spoon into the Boilermaker bowl even as his gaze remained firmly fixed on hers.
She steeled herself for what was to come. She’d mentioned the same to Tasha once and had gotten a lecture about everyone needing someone and that’s what friends are for, blah, blah, blah.
Then Tasha’s roommate had butted into the conversation and asked, Wasn’t leaning exactly what Stella had been doing by crashing on their sofa the past two months?
Stella had been struck dumb for several seconds. Then the roommate cast a pointed glance at Tasha, who then told Stella they’d decided it’d be best if she was out by the end of the year. Stella had been embarrassed.
Sam slanted another quick glance at the couple before his gaze returned to Stella. “In Holly Pointe, we take care of each other. I suppose you could say the couple leaned on the boys because they needed help with their trays. But they’re also teaching those teenagers a valuable lesson.”
When Stella said nothing, Sam continued.
“People love to help. It’s a win-win for both parties.” Sam reached across the table and surprised Stella by covering her hand with his. “You’re one person, Stella. No matter how hard working you are—or how determined—you can’t do it all. In Holly Pointe, there’s no need for you to even try.”
Stella met his eyes. When their gazes locked, she couldn’t look away.
“I realize you have a big job to do, but while you’re here, make time for yourself. Enjoy all this community has to offer.”
Stella’s heart skipped a beat when his fingers linked with hers.
“And know that if you need anything, all you have to do is ask.”
Chapter Seven
When Stella awoke Monday morning, the first thing she did was pull back the curtains and glance out the window. She breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared that Sunday’s snow storm, which had added an extra four inches of the white stuff to the ground, had moved out, leaving the day clear and sunny.
Yesterday, Stella had stayed inside, spending the day on her laptop. She’d begun by researching everyone she’d met and inputting copious amounts of notes into her Holly Pointe file. While no specific piece of information had jumped out at her, she felt more settled.
Knowing the backgrounds of those she’d met—and those she planned on meeting—gave her the basic blocks she needed to build on in the upcoming weeks.
She’d hoped to find more on Kenny and Norma but discovered the two didn’t have much of an online presence. Speaking with them in person appeared to be her best strategy. She decided to spend a little time in the coffee shop before exploring the town.
As she reached the bottom of the steps, Stella inhaled deeply. The rich aroma of coffee had her pushing through the door leading into the Busy Bean.
Kenny and Norma were at the counter while two young women in their early twenties acted as baristas. For nine o’clock on a Monday, the shop was surprisingly busy. Stella counted at least four groups playing cards as well as a handful of business types at other tables on their phones or laptops.
She didn’t see Sam, but his friend stood near the pickup counter with a guy she didn’t recognize.
Stella strode up and tapped Derek on the shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
He turned. “Stella, hello.”
Even as a smile lifted his lips, Derek glanced toward the doorway. “I didn’t see you come in.”
Stella gestured with one hand toward the back of the shop. “I live upstairs. I don’t even have to go outside for my morning jolt of caffeine.”
“Lucky you.” Derek turned toward the other guy. “Zach Adamson, I’d like you to meet Stella Carpenter. Stella is new to Holly Pointe and is handling the social media for the holiday season.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Zach cocked his head. “You’re the one who replaced Kinsley. She’s still bummed over that.”
“You know Kinsley?” Stella didn’t know why she bothered to ask. Everyone in this town seemed to be either friends or relatives.
Zach pushed back a tousle of jet-black hair and nodded. “She’s my cousin.”
“Kinsley was very helpful in giving me all her notes so I could hit the ground running.”
“Stella is from Miami,” Derek said to Zach, then reached around to grab the two large cups that Kenny had set on the counter. “Thanks, Kenny.”
“Coffee is hot.” Kenny, his long hair pulled back into a low pony, should have looked ridiculous wearing a red apron with dancing reindeer.
Instead, he looked sweet, like a big panda bear that you couldn’t help wanting to hug.
“Just the way I like it.” Zach took the cup Derek handed him.
“I wish we could stay.” Derek offered a regretful smile. “But we’ve got work.”
“Me too. You guys have fun.” Stella barely restrained herself from asking Derek whether he’d seen Sam.
“T
ake care.” Zach offered her a friendly smile before heading out the door with Derek.
While Stella doubted that Zach had any deep dark secrets that Jane would find newsworthy, she would add him to her list. During her brief conversation with the two men, the line at the ordering counter had disappeared.
Norma looked up from the register. “Good morning, Stella. Just give me a minute. I need to replace the paper.”
Stella watched for several seconds while the woman fumbled to insert a new roll in the register. Though Stella had no doubt that Norma had replaced the roll hundreds of times, this morning the older woman couldn’t seem to get her fingers to cooperate.
“Kenny!” Norma’s call pitched high.
Her husband was at her side in a second. He smiled at Stella then took the roll from his wife’s frustrated fingers. “Let me do that.”
“I can’t seem to make them work.” Her voice quivered.
“You haven’t had any caffeine today.” He patted her shoulder, his eyes as soft and comforting as his voice. “Have Adriana make you up a latte, then you can sit and relax a minute. We’re not busy right now. I can handle the counter.”
Even as Kenny quickly and efficiently replaced the paper tape, Norma opened her mouth as if to argue.
“I’d love some company,” Stella offered. “Unless you’d prefer to relax alone. I totally get that, too.”
Kenny shot her a grateful glance.
“Why, thank you. I’d love to join you.” Norma’s brow furrowed as she turned back to her husband. “Are you sure you can manage without me?”
A look passed across Kenny’s face that Stella couldn’t decipher. “For a few minutes, I’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t long until Stella sat with Norma at one of the tables by the window. The café au lait she’d ordered sat in front of her, as well as a piece of coffee cake that Kenny had insisted she try.
“How do you like working with your husband?” Stella asked.
Norma’s gaze shifted to where Kenny stood, laughing with a customer at the counter. Her lips curved in a smile.
“I love being with him.” Her gaze met Stella’s. “Kenny is the love of my life. I’ve known him since I was seventeen. We married when I was nineteen and he was twenty.”
