Page 56 of A South Hill Christmas Keepsake
“I hear ya.” They stepped back into the crowd, hands warmed by paper cups. White lights webbed across the square, the giant tree throwing a shimmer that landed on faces like confetti. Folks queued for pictures in front of the LOVE sign, passing phones to strangers who insisted on taking “just one more, for safety.”
Near the bandstand, Birdie perched with a pencil behind her ear and her notebook open to a fresh page. “For the record,” she said, “Bringleton can keep his tubs. What I want is that recipe for those gingerbread bars you took to the council potluck.”
“I got it,” Hannah Leigh said. “I’ll type it up tonight.”
“Bless you.” Birdie flipped a page. “Also, the mayor’s been practicing his speech in Harper’s Jewelry window reflection. That can’t be nothing.”
Hannah Leigh looked up to see Edna Sue stood in the doorway. “I was hoping to see you two,” she called.
Then the mayor stepped to the microphone, paper folded in his hand. The squeak settled after one protest.
“Neighbors,” he began, “most of you know I’m a man of few words. Tonight, I’ve got a few worth saying.”
A wave of whispers rippled through the crowd.
“We’re a town that tends to what lasts. We fuss over the short term, sure, but it’s the long term where we truly live. The dogwood behind me has watched us at our best and our worst. It’s shaded proposals, farewells, and first kisses. Thanks to a certain historian and the Collier family, we’ve found proof that love and duty go way back in South Hill.”
He nodded toward Edna Sue. “Tonight, the council affirms what the deed already declared. The dogwood will stand protected as a landmark. We’ll add a plaque engraved with the words from the locket and legend. We should plan an annual dogwood remembrance each winter with the theme:Keep faith through winter.”
Cheers swept the square. Someone whooped; someone else at their tears without shame. Birdie scribbled like her pencil might catch fire.
Aunt Winnie hollered, “Say it again!”
The mayor smiled and did. “Keep faith through winter.”
Hannah Leigh reached for Nate’s hand, warmth pooling deep. Not rush, not adrenaline, something steady and becoming familiar. “Walk with me?” she asked.
They strolled past tables selling hand pies and goodies, and an entire display of used Christmas books for just a quarter each to raise money for literacy. She stopped at theLove Left Behindboard in the market booth on Main Street. Notes fluttered in the breeze filled with regrets, apologies, confessions. A fresh yellow one read:
Sometimes the past leads you home.
She traced the edges. “That one’s true,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ear.
Nate nodded. “Fits us, too.”
Just then, he grinned and pointed. “Oh, that’s too good. See her? Deanna Chapman and her little Shih Tzu. Crowd’s eating it up.”
Hannah Leigh couldn’t help but laugh. “Perfect. The mayor might get upstaged.”
They watched the white-and-liver-spotted dog prance in a red sweater, a single felt antler drooping over one ear. Standing tall on hind legs, he pawed at the air for treats from Deanna’s holiday tin.
“Looks like somebody found his audience,” Nate said. “You’ve met Deanna?”
“Not yet.”
He took her hand and led her over. “Deanna, this is Hannah Leigh. She’s Winnie’s niece.”
“So nice to meet you.” Deanna’s smile was bright. “Can’t imagine ever leaving this town. I just love it.”
“Sometimes it takes leaving to see what you had,” Hannah Leigh said, kneeling to pat the pup. “And who’s this dashing reindeer?”
“This is George,” Deanna said proudly, feeding him a bone-shaped biscuit. “Don’t tell him he’s not Rudolph. He ate one of the antlers last year, so this season we’re calling him Max fromThe Grinch.”
“My favorite,” Nate said.
Right on cue, George spotted a golden retriever jingling by and let out a bark big enough for a hound twice his size. Then, with dramatic flair, he launched himself from the curb straight into Deanna’s waiting arms. She caught him mid-flight, earning cheers from the crowd.
“His bark’s bigger than his bravery,” Deanna explained. “He’s a tiger, as long as I’m holding him. Put him on the ground, and he’ll hide.”
