Page 39 of A South Hill Christmas Keepsake
I wonder if South Hill Christmas magic applies to visitors, too? A girl can dream.
At the top of the hour, Hannah Leigh guided the mayor through the tree-lighting cues and helped hang glittering stars from lampposts. Then, she double-checked the signage on the vendor spaces and the official Christmas Craft Market map.
At the last minute, a vendor from North Carolina had to back out because of a family emergency, leaving one empty booth. Aunt Winnie was going to have a fit over that.
Or maybe not. Did she even need to know?That’s when Hannah Leigh had the bright idea of leaving the space already assigned to them to use herself. She could make anotherLove Left BehindBoard to set up in that space.
No one missed the South Hill Christmas Craft Market. They sourced the best one-of-a-kind crafts, baked goods, and gift ideas around. Plus, in yesterday’s meeting, they confirmed the senior center was offering a round-trip bus to and from the community center every hour. That was the precise demographic that could help her solve this locket mystery.
Plus, projections for attendance at the South Hill Hometown Holiday Festival were about four times the usual. This was her best chance to uncover a lead.
After she completed everything on her to-do list, she returned to the Chamber of Commerce and raided the storage closet.Jackpot!An old classroom-sized bulletin board, velvet ribbon, and twinkle lights did the trick. Then she used the fancy plotter printer to create the sign.
Love Left Behind Board
Have a memory to mend? Share your lost love story here.
The next morning marked the start of South Hill’s Hometown Holiday Festival — Day One, the Christmas Craft Market —the official launch into two solid weeks of twinkle lights, cocoa stands, and small-town cheer that would carry straight through Christmas Day. By evening, the tree lighting would flip the switch on the whole town, every storefront and lamppost glowing like a postcard.
It was a big day and just the first in the two-week frenzy of holiday cheer that Aunt Winnie was heading up. Hannah Leigh was caffeinated and ready.
She arrived early, bundled and hopeful, to set up her booth. She propped up the hugeLove Left Behindboard, smoothing its edges and whispering a silent prayer that folks would stop long enough to share a memory, a name, or maybe a clue.
Then, she picked up her radio, an ear mic, and updated clipboard at the Chamber office, and was ready to roll. Her job was helping Aunt Winnie make sure the only hitch in the day was the one pulling Santa down Main Street, tossing candy canes at noon.
Residents must’ve flocked to the secondaryLove Left Behindboard faster than to the kettle corn booth, pinning hand-written notes and anonymous confessions like snowflakes. Each was different. Some were funny;others wistful. But one made Hannah Leigh freeze in place.
He never showed.
I waited under the dogwood, red coat, white mittens.
Snow fell. So did my heart.
She stared at that one for a long time. The words pulling something deep inside her. An ache she knew too well. Hope giving way to disappointment. Promise turning quiet.
Nate came up behind her with a candy cane tucked behind his ear like he’d forgotten it was there. “What’s up?”
“I thought this board might tease out some ideas.” She nodded toward a note in shaky block print written in red marker.“But look at this letter. It matches everything Birdie said, but we know Ruthie didn’t write it.”
Nate’s brow furrowed as he leaned in to read it. “He never showed. Red coat, white mittens… it’s almost like the same story told twice.”
Nate pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo. “Now we’ve got it. Put it back on the board before Birdie accuses us of tampering with evidence.” He slid the phone away, grinning. “Come on. You need a break from all this sleuthing. How about I win you a snow globe at the Snowball Toss booth?”
Her mouth curved. “Are you trying to woo me, Nate Collier?”
“Trying? I was hoping I already had a decent start.”
He took her hand, warm and steady, and led her toward the far side of the festival grounds where laughter and music filled the air. Children lined up to toss foam “snowballs” at painted targets, giggling when bells rang out from successful hits.
“While we’re waiting for me to impress you with my skills, I’ve been dying to talk to you about some things I found out about our Henry Bell.”
“What? When?”
“For a couple days now. Every time we tried to connect one of us was too busy. But here’s what I wanted to share. I asked a friend to do some digging for me on Henry, and he found a few interesting things.” Nate walked her through each of the findings from the newspaper articles, all the way to the police blotter notes.
“Oh my gosh! Do you think he died that night?”
“No. I searched the local obituaries for that time and didn’t come up with anything, but my friend is still trying to chase a couple of leads. I’ve got all the documents printed out. At least we can share that much with Ruthie.”
