Page 15 of The Mountain Man's Secret Star
I shook my head.
"He turned down Toronto and opened his hardware store right here in Silver Ridge. Forty-three years we had together before the cancer took him, and not once did he regret choosing love over ambition." Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "That girl looks at you the way I looked at Harold. Don't you dare let her slip away because you're too proud or too scared to believe in what's right in front of you."
She took her stew and walked away, leaving me staring after her with my chest tight and my assumptions crumbling. Harold Francis had given up Toronto for love, and she'd called it the best decision of his life.
Before I could fully process that conversation, Keisha appeared at my stall, looking like she'd stepped out of a business magazine despite the mountain setting. Designer coat, perfectmakeup, and the kind of smile that probably closed million-dollar deals.
"Gavin, right?" She extended a manicured hand. "Keisha Chen. We met yesterday, briefly."
"I remember." I shook her hand, noting the way her eyes cataloged my setup with professional assessment. "What can I get you?"
"Actually, I was hoping we could talk. About Sadie." She glanced around, making sure we weren't overheard. "Somewhere private?"
Every protective instinct I possessed went on high alert, but I gestured toward the prep area behind my stall.
"She's making some interesting decisions lately," Keisha began without preamble. "Turning down opportunities that most artists would kill for. Talking about staying in Silver Ridge indefinitely." Her smile never wavered, but there was steel underneath it. "I'm trying to understand why."
"Maybe you should ask her," I said.
"Oh, I have. And she keeps talking about authenticity and finding her voice and choosing what makes her happy over what makes financial sense." Keisha's expression shifted to something more genuine. "Look, I'm not the villain here. I've been her friend since before either of us had careers worth managing. Everything I do is because I want what's best for her."
"And you think what's best for her is leaving?"
"I think what's best for her is security and creative freedom. And this morning, I got a call that changes everything." Keisha pulled out her phone. "Three-year contract, complete creative control, advance money that would set her up for life. They want her so badly they're willing to be flexible on everything—tour schedule, recording locations, even where she bases herself."
My stomach dropped. "That's good news."
"It gets better. They've been watching her Silver Ridge performances online. They're calling it 'mountain mystique' and they want to capture that authenticity in the studio." Keisha's smile turned triumphant. "But the offer requires an immediate response and a commitment to start recording in Los Angeles by January 15th."
Just like Emma leaving for Paris.
"If you really love her, you'll help her see that she doesn't have to choose. The label is willing to work around her personal commitments—she could tour shorter routes, spend more time here between recording sessions. She can have both, if she's smart about it."
Keisha's words echoed Emma's promises about Paris being temporary, about making long-distance work. I'd believed those promises right up until the postcard arrived with her engagement announcement.
"And if she says no to the deal?"
"Then she'll spend the rest of her life wondering what could have been. And eventually, that regret will poison whatever happiness she thinks she's found here." Keisha's expression softened slightly. "Love isn't always enough, especially when one person gives up their dreams for the other."
She left me with that cheerful thought, disappearing into the festival crowd. Her words echoed in my head as I served soup and bread to families celebrating Christmas Eve, as I watched couples stroll hand-in-hand toward the viewing areas where they'd wait for the comet to reach its peak.
Love isn't always enough.
The parallels were devastating. Emma in Paris, Sadie in Los Angeles. Emma's culinary school, Sadie's recording contract. Both brilliant women with opportunities I couldn't match.
What if Keisha was right? What if I was asking Sadie to make the same impossible choice Emma had faced—dreams or love, ambition or contentment?
The sun was setting when I finally saw her again. She appeared at the edge of my peripheral vision, talking to Beth near the main stage. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in her shoulders, the careful way she held herself when she was performing the role of gracious professional.
Our eyes met across the festival grounds, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Then Keisha appeared at her elbow, and the spell broke. I watched them have what looked like an intense conversation, Keisha gesturing emphatically while Sadie's face grew more and more shuttered.
She's telling her about the deal. About the choice she has to make.
As I watched, Sadie's posture changed. Her shoulders straightened, her chin lifted, and she looked every inch the successful artist who'd built her career on making difficult decisions. When she glanced my way again, her expression was unreadable, professional.
She's already choosing.
Above us, invisible in the sunset sky, Comet Kringle continued its ancient journey toward its moment of greatest visibility. In a few hours, it would blaze across the midnight sky, granting authentic wishes to anyone brave enough to make them under its light.
