Page 44 of Christmas Cove

This information was an obvious surprise to the woman, who held her hand over her chest and played with the gold chain at her neck. “I did not know that. I mean, I heard rumors, but—are you certain, Leo?”

He nodded. “We have until Christmas Eve to get six more permanent residents. Well, five now. Jenny Townsend had her baby this morning.”

Carol clapped her hands. “What wonderful news. I should bring some cookies over to the Townsend place later.”

“I’m sure that would be appreciated,” America said at the sweet idea.

Leo, oblivious to what Carol had said, continued. “I just don’t see any way we can pull it off. But America was just about to tell me her plan.”

America certainly did. She had already reached out to her boss at the magazine, and to her parents, though that avenue was a longshot. Carol could help get the word out. And there was always Poppy’s talent at being three steps ahead of everyone else—certainly there some way she could help too.

Meanwhile, Leo need not know the lengths she was willing to go to help save the town. Until something panned out, anyway. There was no use in getting his hopes up unnecessarily.

“I can make some calls,” Carol said with a worried smile. “I’ll do what I can and let you know if I make any progress. If that’s what you really want, Leo?”

“It’s one thing when we were just putting out some decorations and celebrating Christmas again. But this? It’s too much. I’m sorry if I’m letting you down as your mayor. I simply don’t have the answer, but any help you can give me can’t hurt.”

America put her hand on his knee. Admitting one’s pride must be hard for any man, let alone one that had as kind a heart as Leo did. There was no reason to make him feel worse about the situation than he already did. As the scope of what had to be done became clear, his forced smile and wet eyes threatened to break her heart, and she squeezed his knee to let him know she was there.

“Thank you, Carol.” America said. “For the treats and for your help. My mouth is already watering. These cookies smell delicious.”

“Good luck, you two,” she said and turned to leave.

America held a cookie in front of Leo’s nose and waved it about. “You want a bite?”

With a small nod, he leaned over and bit a chunk from the gingerbread cookie still in her hand. Crumbs fell all over the seat between them, and she brushed them to the floorboard before scooting a couple of inches closer to him.

Leo licked the edge of his mouth but missed a crumb clinging to his upper lip. America swiped her thumb across it. “Better?” Her question was so much deeper than just the crumb. Wrapped in her words and calming smile were a dozen more ways she hoped he was better. She wanted him to be happy. She wanted all the hurt in his life to be better.

“Thank you,” Leo said. A soft kiss landed on her forehead, and her eyes closed for a moment. “I don’t know how I would be doing if you weren’t here with me right now.”

“I’m glad I’m helping and not making things harder for you.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he chuckled, “you’re definitely making things more complicated for me. But not harder.”

America considered what he was saying. Was she complicating his quiet life in the country too much? Was she disturbing the equilibrium of the small town in ways she hadn’t considered simply by being there?

“You’re complicating things for me too, you know?” she said, though she hadn’t realized until that moment, sitting with a man she had never planned on meeting, who was rapidly and wholly becoming the focus of her thoughts, that he was someone worth complicating things for.

Somehow, they had driven all the way back to the cabin without her taking notice. The day was fading, and she had no idea what the next day would hold for each of them.

“Leo,” she began to say, just as he said her name at the same time.

“You go ahead.” Leo parked the truck and turned the radio on. A country singer, who she didn’t recognize but whose twang was unmistakable as any other genre, sang a rendition of The Christmas Song.

“No, you go first,” she said.

“I just want to thank you for sparking joy in this town again. No matter what happens next,” Leo said while wringing his hands on the leather steering wheel. “Now, what were you going to say?”

America was unsure if this was the right moment, but with her deadline looming over her to write a great article, the future of Christmas Cove teetering on the unknown, and her swelling affections for the man sitting beside her, she decided to go with her gut.

“I was wondering . . . what I mean to say is, when I was in the town that shall remain nameless—”

“You can say it. Elizabethtown.”

“Elizabethtown. I saw there was a dance tomorrow night.”

“Countyline Christmas?”

---