Page 15 of A South Hill Christmas Keepsake
“Thanks for saying that.”
“Smell that? Best kettle corn around. Come on, my treat.” Nate nodded toward the end of the block. “Looks like they’re testing the sound system and lights down at the Colonial Theater.”
Hannah Leigh smiled, falling into step beside him. “You mean South Hill’s first miracle of the season?”
Nate arched a brow. “Funny, I thought the first one showed up wearing red boots with paint on her hands earlier today. Which would make the lights the runner-up.”
Her laugh came without warning, light and genuine, the sound that made people turn and smile. He did too—because there was something about her that he couldn’t look away from.
“You’re impossible.”
“Persistent,” he said, grinning, eyes catching the light just right to make his teasing feel like a promise.
She shook her head, still smiling. “Let’s stick to one miracle at a time. I’ll take a rain check on the kettle corn. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER NINE
The next day was the deadline for the vendor’s festival paperwork. She went through each sheet and began assigning location spots to keep similar businesses separate and a good mix of crafts, food, and merch on every block.
Aunt Winnie stopped by her desk to check on things.
“I’ve only got a few forms with missing information, and it looks like we might be short a few junction boxes for all the ones requesting power.” Hannah Leigh put all the problematic paperwork into a folder and handed it to her aunt for follow-up.
“You’ve been so helpful already,” Aunt Winnie said. “I’m so glad you could come. I’d be running in circles without you. Tonight is the feature movie. You won’t want to miss it. I’ve already left your ticket at the box office.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I could’ve bought a ticket.”
“It’s my pleasure. I have to give you some kind of bonus.”
HOLIDAY CLASSIC MARATHON
FEATURINGCHRISTMAS JOY
BASED ON THE NOVEL BY
LOCAL AUTHOR NANCY NAIGLE
The letters shouted the news in cheerful red and green, framed by garland and silver bells that jingled in the breeze.
Hannah Leigh slowed as she got closer, her breath catching in a smile. As a teenager, she’d spent countless December nights in that theater dreaming big dreams under these very lights. The marquee made South Hill feel like Hollywood when she was a little girl.
She tugged her scarf tighter as she stepped up to the ticket booth. “I think there’s a ticket here for me. I’m Hannah Leigh Parker.”
The teenager straightened his Santa hat, taking the job as seriously as any big-league gig. His grin was wide, proud, and a little nervous in that first-day way. “Miss Winnie left your ticket.” He practically glowed. “Enjoy the show.”
Hannah Leigh couldn’t help smiling. He had the same small-town pride she’d grown up on.
Inside, the lobby vibrated with Christmas cheer, every corner touched by sparkle and care. White ribbons trimmedin silver trailed down the grand staircase, magnolia leaf wreaths decked every door, and a velvet rope corralled a line of wide-eyed kids wearing faux reindeer ears and antlers waiting to take photos in front of a cardboard sleigh. The aroma of sweet and salty snacks wafted across the space.
Across the way at a folding table beside the concession stand, Hannah Leigh watched Birdie empty her entire purse across the table in a bit of a tizzy.
“I swear on my first husband’s El Camino, it was here a minute ago!” She dug through a kaleidoscope of lipstick tubes, and at least three mini flashlights. “I had a bag of Pearl’s Pralines.”
“You sure you didn’t eat them?” asked the teenage concession girl. “They are hard to resist.”
Birdie straightened, one hand on her hip and her Santa pin flashing. “Child, I don’t eat pralines before a movie. It gums up my commentary. Besides, I planned to pass them out during the quiet part when the couple realizes they were in love all along.”
Hannah Leigh couldn’t stop herself. She crossed the room. “You mean the whole movie?”
