Chapter One
“Dagnabbit, what is this lot doing here already?” Emmilene’s face paled, and her fingers tightened on my arm.
I patted her hand as I tried to pry her fingers out of the holes they were digging in my skin. “Who are you talking about?”
Emmilene huffed and waved an arm toward the other side of the park. There was a wild edge to her normally graceful movements. “Them.”
How could she possibly tell people didn’t belong here? The park in the center of Clear Creek was full of people bustling around rows of awnings, and tents, and carts. Local shopkeepers and the vendors who’d passed Emmilene’s rigorous application process were adding final touches to their displays, or hanging banners with their logos, or clustered in groups to chat before opening for the three-day-long Christmas festival.
“Surely you see them, over by the bonfire pit?”
I rolled onto my toes and finally saw the couple who were the reason for Emmilene’s conniption fit. “Oh, the Wallaces? They’re staying at The Pillow Pile. They have the cutest little girl — look, there she is. Isn’t she adorable in that striped elf hat?”
Emmilene gave me a look of disbelief.
“Perhaps they’re wanting to warm up.” The voice beside me sounded sweet — and set my teeth on edge. “Nevermind. I just realized the fire hasn’t even been lit yet, even though it’s freezing.”
I forced myself to smile. “If you’re so cold, Daffy, you’re welcome to wait for me at the shop.”
“Of course I won’t.” My mother stepped sideways in her very fashionable — but not very warm — heeled boots.
“Jemma, what do I do?”
The smile I gave Emmilene was genuine. With any luck, my bright Candy Cane lipstick would remind her this was supposed to be fun. “You don’t need to do anything.”
“But the festival doesn’t start until ten. Mr. Winters was specific about the time — and I made sure to include the time in all the advertising.”
“Don’t be silly,” Daffy said.
I shot my mother a warning look before wrapping an arm around Emmilene’s shoulders. Our down coats squished between us like marsh-mallows. “There isn’t a fence around the park — we have no way of keeping everyone out. Besides, there are activities and booths set up through the entire town.”
Despite Mr. Winters’ worries, everyone had jumped at the chance to bring in more business by turning the town into a winter wonderland.
Lorna had turned the storefront of Baked in a Pie into a gingerbread house, and the owner of the wooden toy shop, Wood Elves, had embraced the theme and turned his store into Santa’s Workshop.
“Maybe Max could —”
I shook my head. “No. We’re not asking Max to keep people out of town for forty minutes. Besides, every room at The Pillow Pile is booked, and anyone in town with a spare room has rented it out. Just let people wander around. The vendors know if they start selling anything before ten they’ll be asked to leave, so there’s really nothing to worry about.”
Emmilene relaxed against me. “Bless your heart, Jemma. I don’t know what I was thinking, agreeing to plan an event this big without building up to it.”
Crisis averted. “You knew you could do it, because you can do anything. Now, what do you have left to do?”
“I just need to get that bonfire lit. I thought Brandon would have taken care of that by now.” Emmilene narrowed her eyes. “Where has he gotten himself off to? He promised to help, but every time I turn around he’s gone.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t my boyfriend’s keeper. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
“But — Oh, dear, we’re not ready and here’s Mr. Winters.”
A short, round man with a red nose and bushy white eyebrows raised an arm in greeting as he approached. “Emmilene. Everything appears to be well in hand. I had my doubts a small town like this could pull it off, but you’ve rallied people together nicely.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased.” Emmilene finally managed a smile. “Mr. Winters, you remember Jemma.”
Mr. Winters nodded at me, but turned right back to Emmilene and offered her his arm. “Come. Show me what you have planned. I want to be sure we’ll bring in as much money as possible for the charities we’re supporting this year.”
As she was led away, Emmilene mouthed, “Find Brandon.”
I nodded and pulled out my phone.
My mother clucked her tongue. “You know, Anthony would never dream of disappearing on you.”
“Hmm?” I tapped in a text reminding Brandon he was supposed to start the bonfire. “Who?”
“Anthony, darling.” My mother pursed her lips as she raised an eyebrow. “The man I told you about. Surely you remember. He’s quite taken with you, you know.”
I gritted my teeth. “Right. The man I’ve never met and have no intention of wasting any time on.”
“He’s perfect for you. He’s wealthy, and sophisticated, and so attentive. I’ve seen him in swim trunks.” Daffy fanned herself and pretended to blush. “It doesn’t take much to imagine —”
“Stop.” I raised my hands between us protect-ively. “Just stop. If you love him so much, go after him for yourself and leave me out of your little fantasy world.”
“But darling, he’s interested in you.”
Gah. I turned around and walked toward the tree Emmilene had put me in charge of. “I need to make sure everything’s secure.”
“Fine. I’ll allow you to play in your small-town world . . . for now.”
Reminding myself Daffy’s visit wouldn’t last forever, I took a deep breath instead of defending my town. If I could ignore her more cutting remarks for a while, we’d all be better for it.
I rounded the thick trunk of the tree and shook my head at Granny, who was up on a ladder tying the last of the strings to the branches. “Are you being careful up there?”
Jasper, Granny’s ridiculously patient husband, smiled at me. At least he was holding the ladder steady. “Don’t worry so much, Jemma. You don’t want people to think you’re turning into your mother, do you?”
I might have growled.
Jasper just laughed. “We’ve got things under control here. That’s the last of the hats hung, and the scarves won’t take long to drape over the branches. You can check on something else.”
A glance at the tree showed he was right. The hats I’d spent the last six weeks knitting were all on display, waiting for people who would “buy” them. The hats would then go in a large basket under the tree to be donated to a homeless shelter, while the money — after covering the cost of the yarn — would go to the nearest soup kitchen.
“You just want me to take Daffy away,” I muttered.
Jasper winked, and I shrugged as I turned away. The decades since my mother left Clear Creek in her rearview mirror hadn’t done anything to soften my neighbors’ memories of the teenager who was too good for them.
“Jemma, wait!” Granny hurried down the ladder and pulled out a notebook. “How much money do you think the Cozy Tree here will bring in?”
“I’m hoping —” I stopped, taking in her bright, too-innocent eyes. “Wait. You’re not taking bets, are you?”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Do you want to make one? I’ll give you good odds.”
“Granny.” I couldn’t decide if I should scold her or get in on the action. “What else are you taking bets on?”
“Nothing,” she said in a sing-song voice. She flipped through the pages.
Her voice would have told me she was lying even if I hadn’t glimpsed several lists in as the pages fanned. “Tell me.”
She raised her chin. “I don’t want to.”
I knew better than to try to reason with her. If she was betting on how long it would take for my mother to insult everyone in town, I wanted to claim two o’clock. “Jasper?”
“Oh, it’s nothing much.” His voice rumbled with suppressed laughter. “Things like which food vendor will sell out the fastest.”
My shoulders relaxed. “Okay. That’s not so bad. I’ll put five dollars on the hot chocolate guy. Just — don’t tell Emmilene.”
Granny nodded sagely. “She wouldn’t appreciate it, especially — um, at all.”
My hogwash detector went off. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Daffy wasn’t close enough to hear — she’d run to tell Emmilene whatever it was, and I didn’t want to deal with that fall-out. “Especially what?”
Jasper stepped between us. “It’s just a bit of fun.”
“What’s a bit of fun? Come on, you two.”
They exchanged a glance, and Granny shrugged. “Townsfolk are betting on which day of this event you’ll find a body.”
They were betting on if — no, not if, when — I was going to find another body? “You — you — Why would you take bets on something like that?”
Granny shrugged again. “It’s fun.”
Fun.
“Finding a body isn’t fun.” I tried to whisper the words, but they came out louder than I intended. A quick glance around showed no one was paying attention to me, including Daffy — she was too busy doing something on her phone.
Jasper tapped the side of his nose. “But betting on it is.”
“I —” I took a deep breath. “Just make sure you keep it quiet, alright? I don’t want this weekend ruined for Emmilene.”
Footsteps crunched in the snow behind me. “Who’s trying to ruin the weekend?”
I spun around. “Brandon.”
A tiny smile played across his lips before he got it under control. “What’s going on?”
“Granny’s —” I glanced around once more, but the coast was clear. “She’s taking bets on which day Emmilene’s event is going to be ruined by a dead body.”
Brandon shoved a hand through his hair and turned to Granny. “Is that true?”
She scrunched up her face. “Not exactly. See, we’re betting on which day Jemma will find a body. That’s completely different, see? Nothing about ruining Emmilene’s hard work.”
Expressions flitted over Brandon’s face, as if he couldn’t decide how to react. Finally, he just leaned down and gave me a quick kiss. “I’m going over to get the bonfire going. Why don’t you come with me? Granny can stay here — and out of trouble — to take payment for the hats and scarves.”
“I’d like that.” I slipped my hand into his and pinned Granny with a look I hoped would remind her to behave. “Kitty should be here any minute. You can stay and help her, but remem-ber, no money changes hands before ten or Emmilene has to shut us down.”
Daffy gave Brandon a calculating look as we passed her.
“She really doesn’t like me, does she?” Brandon asked quietly.
“It’s not that. She just wants to drag me out of Clear Creek. She can’t understand that I actually like it here when she’s always hated it so much. Don’t pay any attention to her,” I suggested, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I don’t.”
Brandon grimaced.
“Really. I’m happy here. With you.”
I thought I saw something in his eyes I didn’t recognize, but it was gone so quickly I must have been mistaken.
He let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around me. “Come on, let’s get the fire going.”
Brandon had gotten everything ready in advance. Piles of wood were stacked off to the side, and there was a whole barrel full of kindling. What I didn’t expect were the dozen full tree trunks.
“Yule logs,” he explained.
“I know what they are, but when did they get here? And why are there so many of them?”
“When Emmilene announced the festival, some of the guys in town thought it would add a fun element to the fire. We have a bunch of them because they’re thinner than your typical Yule log, and because our fire’s going to be so big. If we run out, there are more we can bring over.” Brandon looked up from where he was lighting the kindling. “Do you think Emmilene will approve?”
The town had welcomed Emmilene and Grant with open arms, and supported Emmilene’s events business, but for them to put their heads together to surprise her like this made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “That’s so sweet. She’ll love it.”
While Brandon worked on building the fire and getting it ready to add the Yule logs, I chatted with anyone who stopped by. The park was filling with tourists ready to spend their hard-earned cash on gifts and food, all in the name of sup-porting those less fortunate than themselves.
Right at ten o’clock, a large bell that had been placed near the gazebo began to toll, and vendors stood aside to let people swarm into their booths.
Brandon left me to tend the bonfire while he went to check on the men who were babysitting portable fire pits scattered throughout the park.
I stood back and watched as people moved through the little city of tents and awnings, loving every minute of the bustle.
Families moved slowly, the children looking around with awed eyes. A teenaged couple with eyes only for each other would have run into those around them if the adults hadn’t smiled indulgently and stepped out of their way. A cute little boy stopped to touch every tentpole he passed while his mother patiently held his other hand.
My heart sank.
Mothers.
Where had mine gotten to? She claimed she was here to visit me, but she hadn’t spent much time with me in the four days she’d been here. I couldn’t decide if I was annoyed by that, or relieved that it gave me a break from her com-plaints about the town and the snide remarks about my “hick boyfriend” as she compared him to the guy in Ohio she’d chosen for me, as if I wasn’t an adult with a mind of my own.
I looked around for Daffy, but couldn’t see her through the crowd.
Kitty waved at me from her spot under the Cozy Tree. Oliver, her husband of two months, stood nearby with a face full of pure happiness.
They were perfect together.
Behind them, I could just make out Granny talking with a red-haired man in a wool coat. There was the flash of her notebook, then they shook hands.
An arm wrapped around my waist from behind. “I know everyone’s excited for the hot chocolate, but I brought coffee if you’d like some.”
I leaned back against Brandon and turned my head toward him as he nuzzled my neck. “Most men would offer chocolate or wine, but you — well, you know the way to a woman’s heart.”
“Not just any woman’s heart, I hope.” His chuckle seeped through my coat.
Heat raced through me, hotter than the bonfire and more delicious than even his coffee. I accepted the cup and took a sip as his newly-freed hand wrapped around my other side so I was encircled in his arms.
“I caught you,” he whispered.
“I guess you did.” My hand trembled, and I willed it steady. I was well and truly caught — and I had no intention of being freed.
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