Page 46 of A South Hill Christmas Keepsake
Nate stepped closer. “Uncle Clarence, why pretend you didn’t recognize her when she came back?”
Clarence’s gaze went distant. “Because I did. Even with her hair gray, age hadn’t changed her. The minute I saw her at the market it shocked me. I wanted to run right up to her. I still love her. I always have.” He snapped his attention to Nate. “Don’t get me wrong. Your Aunt Elaine was a good woman, a steady one, but what I felt for Margaret Jane was different.” He swallowed. “Like she was the other half of my story.”
“What if I told you she didn’t want to leave?” Nate asked.
Clarence’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t even know how to think about that.” His voice cracked again. He pressed a hand to his chest because his whole life was built on the knowledge that sheleft him. “If that wasn’t true. How do I ever calm that kind of ache?”
Hannah Leigh’s eyes glistened. Nate slid his hand over hers beneath the desk.
“You could start by talking to her.” Hannah Leigh’s voice carried a quiet calm. “She’s here now. Maybe history deserves a do-over.”
“Shame doesn’t shrink with time,” Clarence whispered. “It grows. My father’s been gone thirty years, but I still hear his voice telling me that love wasn’t practical. Guess I believed him more than I should’ve.”
Nate leaned forward, close enough to see the fine tremor in the man’s jaw. “You can’t bury love like that, Uncle. The roots always push back up.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Hannah Leigh’s voice broke the silence, soft but sure. “You don’t owe the past anything but honesty. Maybe start there.”
Clarence gave a tired groan. “Folks think I’m just a grumpy mayor who worries about wreath symmetry.” He looked down at his hands. “Truth is, I’ve been holding a shadow in my chest for so long, I forgot what light feels like, young lady.”
“You still have time.” Nate gestured toward Hannah Leigh. “Tell Margaret Jane the truth. All of it. Let her know she wasn’t the only one waiting.”
Clarence’s eyes filled again. “You think she’d listen?”
“She moved back to town. I think she’s hoping for a second chance, but I didn’t talk to her,” Nate said. “Just my assumption.”
“I think she’s been hoping you’d say something first,” Hannah Leigh said. “Real love doesn’t just vanish. It waits. It can weather so much more than we think.”
He nodded slowly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Then I’ll find the right time. Maybe tomorrow. Heaven help me, I’ll tell her everything. She’s still beautiful.”
“Tell her that,” Hannah Leigh said. “That’s a fine place to start.”
Nate glanced at her, wondering if she realized those words carried another weight altogether, one meant for her.
That night, Hannah Leigh stood with him beneath the dogwood. The square was hushed, and the night so quiet it seemed to ring.
“This tree has seen some heartache,” Hannah Leigh’s voice faded.
“Maybe it’s ready for hope again,” Nate answered.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the streetlamp reflect in a halo of light. Bells down at the First Baptist Church tolled in the distance, deep, even, steady as breath.
Hannah Leigh tilted her face toward the sound, eyes shining in the cold light.
Nate’s voice came low. “You make it easier to believe in second chances.”
Her smile was small but certain. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
As the bells echoed through South Hill, a hymn of truth and grace drifted through the night. And under that old dogwood, roots buried deep in stories and sorrow, Nate knew they’d begun something larger than themselves. Something that, finally, felt like home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The night of the annual tree lighting, the town squarehad never looked so fine. Nate had spent every Christmas of his life in South Hill, but tonight felt different, like somebody had put a polish on the whole town. Storefronts glowed. Bringleton’s chalkboard promised a real steal onCocoa by the Tubfor the big night. And Harper’s Jewelry had strands of diamonds dripping like icicles inside their window so sparkly you couldn’t pass by without noticing.
Folks packed the lawn shoulder to shoulder, the buzz rolling toward the giant Christmas tree like a tide for the big moment.
He dropped the locket off at Harper’s Jewelry to get repaired, then went to catch up with Hannah Leigh. He found her near the steps of Town Hall with Aunt Winnie. His heart gave a familiar little leap every time he saw her.
Hannah Leigh’s green scarf shone bright against her coat, her hair catching the light cascading over her shoulder. He started toward them, but their voices pulled him up short. Aunt Winnie stood beside her, wrapped in a tartan cape that could’ve doubled as a Christmas banner. He started toward them, but stopped when he caught the tone of their conversation.
