Page 35 of Christmas Cove

America wasn’t sure how to explain the reality of the situation just yet. “Well . . . it’s hard to describe. The town, Christmas Cove, isn’t celebrating Christmas the way we had thought. The online brochure was missing quite a lot of truths about this place.”

“And you have become aware of these . . . truths?” he said.

“I have. But none of it will make sense unless it’s in the proper context.”

“And you’re getting that context, yes?” His tone was unwavering.

She nodded.

“America?” he prompted.

“Sorry, I forgot you couldn’t see me. I’m so used to video chatting with people nowadays,” she said and giggled briefly before remembering to sound professional. “I think this story is going to be of great interest to our readers, I just have more research to do.”

“And some photos to take, it sounds like. I know you’ll come through on this,” Mr. Janowitz said. His tone changed from business to that of a friend. “I know I threw you into this assignment on short notice. So, why don’t you send me the notes that you do have, and I can take a look. Sound like a plan?”

“I’ll send you what I have tomorrow. I’m going into the neighboring town and will have a better internet connection there,” America said. “I was already planning a trip to the county library. I also found the town’s archives, and there are about a million photos to choose from.”

“That sounds great. I look forward to reading your notes.”

“Merry—” The phone went dead. “Christmas,” she finished and stared blankly at her phone screen.

The violin music stopped, and the few people who had gathered around the tree began to disperse. She scanned the remaining faces for Leo’s. His back was turned. It was a view she had witnessed several times since their first meeting. He slid his fingers back through his wavy hair and turned around like he too was searching for something. Or someone.

A shiver ran through her from behind her ears, down her neck, and to her core, as their eyes met. She was certain the trembling was due to the cold and not to the piercing way he looked at her. She bathed her lungs with fresh cool air and felt her ears pull back like a cat on the prowl. She hated the way her body reacted, while still being hungry for more time with him.

“Is everything all right?” he asked when he was within a couple yards.

“It was my boss on the phone. I was surprised when it rang, actually.”

“Uh oh. Are you in trouble?” Leo joked.

America chuckled, though he wasn’t too off target. “Not yet. You see, this is sort of my first real writing assignment, and he was checking to see whether I’m up to the task or not.”

“First assignment as a writer?” Leo said. “You mentioned that you’re an editor, but I didn’t realize that I was your first. I mean, this story is your first.” It was his turn to hold his head in his palm.

America laughed with embarrassment oozing off her lips for him.

“We best get you something good to write about. Now, shall we go?” Leo said and took her gloved hand in his.

Back in the truck, America’s feeling of anticipation increased. She didn’t want to ask again where he was taking her, or what adventure she was about to go on. No other time in her life compared to this one. She had never released as much control over her schedule, nor given so little thought to each mundane decision during her day. Getting off the proverbial wheel could even be fun, she admitted to herself.

Christmas Cove was unpredictable. No, that was wrong. Leo was unpredictable. She had witnessed a change in him since their first encounter at the foggy dock. He had gone from cold and defeated, to hopeful with a side of good humor.

She was certain there was an interesting, if not entertaining, story behind his presence in Christmas Cove. The kind of story she needed for the magazine article. If she didn’t push for it, she was hopeful that he would share the details with her in time. The tale was likely much more than just the Cove and its lack of holiday cheer. The mayor had wanted the magazine to cover the city for a reason, and she needed to find out exactly why.

The truck came to a stop in front of the cabin. “Home? This is where we’re going tonight?” Disappointment saturated her words unintentionally. She hadn’t acknowledged what her expectation was for their date.A date. Is that what this is?she wondered.

Leo got out and walked around to open her door. “Come on. Out you go,” he said and walked to the truck’s bed.

She began towards the cabin, but stopped when he cleared his throat. He carried a picnic basket in one hand and a stack of plaid blankets in the other. Now curious, a smile spread across her face, and she met him where he stood.

An eyebrow raised and the same half grin told her that he was up to something that she would likely enjoy. He thought himself sly, but she was beginning to see that his mysterious edge was simply a shyness, not unlike her own, that stemmed from a lack of practice at romance.

They walked down the gravel path towards the dock. The crisp air mingled with the thick warmth of burning cedar. She could smell the fire even before they crested the last rise in the terrain. Flames licked the night. Gold, and red embers flew high before cooling and gliding back down to earth like hundreds of tiny fairies.

Leo led the way down to the banks of the dried-up cove, past the dock to the place where the pilings were embedded in the ground. The tall grasses of summer had laid down for winter like a spongy carpet. He put down his cargo and took the top blanket. She helped him spread it near the fire, where its warmth carved a comforting dome into the darkness.

“How did you do all this?” She asked, then noticed a couple sitting on the far side of the bonfire.

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