Page 19 of Christmas With My Mountain Man Landlord
The crowd begins the countdown, voices merging into one enthusiastic chorus. "Ten! Nine! Eight!"
Movement at the edge of the crowd catches my eye. A tall figure in a familiar sheriff's jacket making his way through the throng. My heart leaps.
"Seven! Six! Five!"
"Savannah," I nudge her, pointing. "Look."
She follows my gaze, her expression transforming from confusion to shock to pure joy. "Dad?"
"Four! Three!"
Tom reaches us just as the countdown hits its final numbers, his expression a mixture of discomfort and determination.
"Two! One!"
The tree erupts in a dazzling display of multicolored lights, drawing gasps and cheers from the crowd. But Savannah doesn't see it. She throws herself at her father, arms wrapping around his neck.
"You came," she whispers, loud enough for only us to hear.
"Thought I'd see what all the fuss is about," he says gruffly, but his arms tighten around her briefly before letting go.
Colt offers a hand, which Tom shakes with what appears to be genuine respect rather than reluctant tolerance. "Good to see you, Sheriff."
"Colt." Tom nods, then turns to me, something uncertain in his gaze. "Kelsie."
"You made it," I say, unable to keep the pleased surprise from my voice.
"Managed to escape the paperwork." His lips quirk in what might almost be a smile. "Martinez owes me a shift anyway."
Savannah's expression could light the town without electricity. "I can't believe you're actually here. After sixteen years!"
"Don't make a big deal of it," he warns, looking distinctly uncomfortable with her enthusiasm.
"Too late." She grins, hooking her arm through his to prevent escape. "Come on, you need to see everything. The cookie contest entries are over there, and the elementary kids made ornaments, and the choir's doing carols by the gazebo."
Tom allows himself to be led through the festivities, his initial stiffness gradually easing as we navigate the celebration. When townspeople recover from their surprise at seeing him, they greet him warmly, many with knowing glances between him and me that make heat rise to my face.
"Sheriff Parker!" Mrs. Henderson from the bookstore approaches, clutching a plastic cup of what smells suspiciously stronger than hot chocolate. "What a lovely surprise! And with your houseguest too." She winks at me with grandmotherly subtlety, which is to say none whatsoever.
"Just showing Kelsie a proper Whisper Vale tradition," he says, his voice carrying the authoritative tone I recognize as his professional shield.
"About time you joined us again." Mrs. Henderson pats his arm. "Caroline's been gone sixteen years, Tom. Life goes on."
I feel him tense beside me at the mention of his ex wife's name. Before he can retreat into himself, I touch his elbow lightly.
"The ornaments are beautiful," I say, deliberately changing the subject. "Savannah mentioned there's a gazebo with carols?"
Gratitude flickers in his eyes as Mrs. Henderson takes the bait, launching into directions and recommendations for other attractions we shouldn't miss.
When we finally extract ourselves, Tom leans down slightly. "Thanks," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear despite the cold.
"For what?" I ask innocently.
"The rescue."
"Just protecting my research subject," I tease. "Can't have the grumpy sheriff scaring off my informants."
His soft chuckle sends warmth curling through me.
