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She imagined Kanon’s handsome face, his smile, his kiss, and felt more yearning than she’d ever experienced in her life. Loving him hadn’t been a choice. She’d fallen hard and fast from almost the first moment he’d returned to town, and there was no way to talk herself out of it. That kind of all-consuming love was something she thought she’d never experience.

Then…bam, it’d come out of nowhere. She knew the difference after all the years she was married to Jack without any of the same magic. This was romantic love—and she was about to learn how much heartache it could bring. “I would never leave Hard Luck, never pull Ari away from you or this place, if that’s what you’re afraid of. That wouldn’t be fair. But if I could get Kanon to stay? Or we had another chance to be together after Ari went to college?” She smiled sadly. “Absolutely.”

* * *

“What a weekend,” Kelsey said on Sunday afternoon, sounding exhausted as she unwrapped the sandwich Kanon had brought back to the office for her. “We’ve barely had time to eat and sleep, let alone prepare a meal.”

The festival Patience had launched had been far more successful than Kanon had ever imagined it would be. People were excited to get out and enjoy a unique Christmas experience, and she’d made sure this was a good one. The future looked promising, as well. Between the email list and text list he’d started using, the ads and the list the bakery had collected with each snowflake cookie they gave away, they’d have a head start when it came to marketing next year. Although he hadn’t spoken to Patience since he left her house on Thursday, Tara had told him she planned to put out a newsletter every holiday. In it, she’d feature one business in particular and add news of upcoming events, fun recipes, coupons and maybe even pattern downloads for various crafts—freebies she thought might keep people engaged and remind them of Hard Luck.

The work Patience had done, all for the benefit of others, made him admire her so much. She restored his faith in humanity, made him see the good in the world. He wished her father would realize what a wonderful woman he’d raised, that regardless of the early pregnancy or the fact that she’d moved out when he didn’t want her to or whatever other small thing he was holding against her, she was everything a parent should want their child to be.

“Fortunately, there’s been plenty of food available to purchase,” he told Kelsey, speaking around a bite of his own sandwich. “And the chaos will all be over soon.”

The festival had run Thursday and Friday nights, from four to nine, and Saturday and Sunday, ten to nine. They technically had several hours left to go today, but he couldn’t imagine the crowds wouldn’t thin after dinner. A lot of people had to be at school or work in the morning.

“I’m glad we did it.” She lifted what was left of the stack of brochures they’d been handing out. “Look at this! So many people came through we barely had enough for all four days.”

“The festival was a great idea, and it was well executed. This thing should only get bigger every year.”

Lowering her sandwich, she gave him a sad look. “Are you sure you want to leave?”

“You’re going to be fine,” he replied. “We’ve gotten a lot done around here, and we’ll get a lot more done before I go. You’ll be set up—as far as general maintenance is concerned. And with better weather arriving in spring, you’ll be…fine, like I said.”

“My being fine isn’t the point,” she responded.

“Then what is?” he asked.

She frowned. “You won’t be here. That’s what really matters.”

He put down his sandwich. “I can’t say no to this offer, Kelsey. My old boss went out on a limb to make it happen.”

“Why’d he do that?”

“Because when he left KLM Energy, I didn’t get his job like I should have. The owner passed me over for his nephew.”

“That’s why you quit and came here?”

“Partly. I could’ve gotten on with a different outfit. But quitting gave me a break from the oil field, and your mother including me in her will gave me somewhere else to go. I was mad enough at what happened with KLM—the nephew in question doesn’t have nearly as much experience as I do—that I was eager to get out, at least for a little while.” It’d seemed destined somehow—his return to Hard Luck—but he didn’t say so. He knew where she’d go with that.

“Until they called you back,” she grumbled. “I guess the nephew couldn’t cut it, huh?”

“It’s so soon they probably haven’t figured that out quite yet. I wouldn’t go back to KLM anyway. My new job is with Jeffco Oil. When they heard my boss was no longer with KLM, they tried to hire him, but he’d left because he was ready to retire, so he recommended me.”

“And they offered you a lot of money, I suppose.”

They had to pay well, or no one would be willing to live in the middle of nowhere and take the risks involved, but he didn’t say that. “Yes.”

With a sigh, she began to wrap up what was left of her meal. “Well, the festival might’ve helped out a little financially. It was nice to have every room taken for a change. But I can’t compete with a big oil company.” She lifted the wrapped sandwich. “I’m going to put this in the fridge, then go to the bathroom.”

After she left, he no longer felt like eating. He should’ve told her to put his leftovers in the fridge, too, but now that she’d already gone in he didn’t want to follow her into the apartment, especially if she was going to the bathroom. Because of all the things they’d talked about doing together—the par 3 golf course next door and other marketing plans for the inn—he felt guilty leaving, felt as though he’d built up her expectations only to disappoint her.

Eager for a few minutes alone, he sent her a text to let her know that he was going to take a walk and left his sandwich where it was.

Montgomery Street was as crowded as ever. He’d predicted traffic would fall off, but so far, it’d slowed only at the motel. Everyone seemed eager to take advantage of the food and other treats that were available before the festival closed.

A chill wind blew as he wove through parents with young children, grandparents who were busy Christmas shopping, teenagers running around on their own and small groups of women who were visiting one vendor after the other, examining all the handmade items. He wasn’t looking for anything or anyone in particular, at least he didn’t know that he was—until he spotted the pastor stationed dutifully at his table, collecting gifts and donations for the underprivileged and passing out cards with a picture of Christ that said “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord” on one side and gave the address of the church and the time for Sunday worship on the other.

Ever since Kanon could remember, he’d made a habit of avoiding Patience’s father, which was probably why the pastor looked so startled when they locked eyes and instead of veering away, Kanon strode up.