Page 48 of Christmas Cove

What did she mean about him wanting the magazine to write about the Cove? He had never even thought of it, though he wished he would have years ago. It could have saved the town from losing so much.

Before America arrived, he had even thought of opening the Cove as a retreat destination all year round. And during the cold months, bringing back the festivals and traditions that the Cove had always been known for.

But requesting a travel magazine to feature the town’s Christmas celebrations when there was nearly none to speak of was not his idea. But whose?

CHAPTER26

America couldn’t getout the door fast enough when she answered the call.

“Hello, America Greene speaking,”

“America, I’m so glad I caught you,” Mr. Janowitz said. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

America looked back inside and spotted Leo’s tousled blond hair over the top of the crowd. He ran his fingers through his waves and turned in circles, kicking the floor as she’d seen him do before.

“You have perfect timing,” America said. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I finally got to reading those notes you sent over yesterday. I apologize for not calling earlier in the day. I think it’s great. You have a knack for capturing the heart of a story.”

“Thank you,” America said shyly, unaccustomed to hearing feedback on her writing prowess.

“I think we have everything we need for the article. Great work, America.” Janowitz said. “Seeing as your assignment is done, I was hoping you would come back to the city early. You’re still my best editor and there’s quite a bit of work to do on some of the other articles. I know you were supposed to be there for another few days, but I don’t see any reason you should stay.”

She paused, considering the man who she was falling for and the comfortable life she had waiting for her back in the city.

“America, you can stay if you want, the trip is paid for, but based on your notes, I doubt there’s anything left for you there. Why don’t you come on back. We can polish up your story and you can enjoy the rest of the holiday season back at home.”

A cold wind blew past America and chilled her arms. A train rounded the bend and tooted its whistle as it began to cross a small bridge over the creek running near the pavilion. Inside, Leo was standing beside the food table and talking to an older couple. His eyes scanned beyond their heads for a moment before returning back to the woman speaking to him.

“I don’t think there’s anything more I can do here.” America said. “I’m glad you like the article.”

America hung up the phone and checked the time on her wristwatch. The time didn’t matter, all she knew was that her time was up in Christmas Cove.

She found Leo and asked him to take her back to the cabin. “I need to go home,” she said. “My boss says I’m done here.”

“Are we?” Leo asked with a stitch of hurt cracking his low voice.

America turned and walked towards his truck without acknowledging his question. It was too painful to think about their budding relationship being nipped so stupidly in the bud. They were each to blame. His high expectations for what love was supposed to look like as compared to his parents’ perfect love, his hiding and not trying to save the Cove until she turned up and forced his hand, and her pushing, always pushing, for more.

During the ride back to the cabin, she said nothing. He said nothing, though their eyes met a few times, the silence between them spoke more than any words could have.

She got out of the truck and slowly closed the door, wondering whether she should say something—an apology for insulting his motives and his lack of action, for kicking him when he was down. Or was she hoping he would say something to her? He said nothing. Did nothing.

As she stood frozen in her own disappointment at the way things were ending between them, he pulled out of the drive. A dust cloud mingled with the night air and the truck disappeared over the crest.

“Dang,” America said and kicked every rock in her path up to the cabin door.

How could she be so stupid, and what right did she have to accuse Leo of hiding, of not caring about his town? Inside, she closed the door and flopped on the sofa in front of the little tree. A pool of silver fabric fell like a waterfall down the sofa to the floor. America threw her small bag on the coffee table as an exasperated sigh hissed through her teeth and echoed against the wooden walls.

America fiddled with her phone, flipping it into the air, and catching it again as she took stock of what she had done. She had stormed into town and left chaos in her wake. It was so uncharacteristic of her, and yet, she had never felt as passionate about a project as she did about bringing Christmas back to Christmas Cove. Her motivations may have been selfish at the start. She just wanted to have something worthwhile to write about. But the Cove had changed her in more ways than she cared to admit, least of all the way her heart now ached for its mayor.

A pit opened in her stomach. Was she really done? Was this it? She knew she wasn’t cut out to be a full-time writer, but now she questioned her aptitude for knowing when to keep her mouth shut, too. She had been an unmitigated fool. There was certainly a better way to have spoken to Leo, and surely a better time.

Leo may be resigned to defeat, but she wasn’t a quitter and had proclaimed that she had an idea, a way to save the Cove. The town still needed help, and she knew there was more she could do. Unlocking her phone, she pulled up Poppy’s contact info and ran to the bedroom, where the landline phone sat on the small end table beside the bed.

She dialed and waited. No one picked up. Poppy was probably screening her calls, like America would have done. She dialed again. “Pick up. Pick up.”

“Hello?” Poppy said.

---