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“For me? I don’t have anything for you. Was I supposed to have a gift?”
She smiled up at him. “It’s not a gift. Not exactly.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “What is it?”
She reached into her oversized purse and withdrew an ornament. She handed it to him. It was a little red sled made of painted popsicle sticks. It was decorated with holly and red-and-white striped satin ribbon. It was cute.
“Did you make this?” he asked.
“I did. Do you like it?”
“I do. You’re talented.” Kate definitely had an artistic flair.
He wondered if that was something she could use to give new life to Bayberry—or was a second life even possible for the failing company? The thought dampened his mood. The more time he spent in the town of Bayberry, the harder it was to be objective.
Luckily, numbers by their very nature were oblivious to sentimentality and wishful thoughts. Sure, they could be skewed this way or that, but it took a concerted effort, which he would not engage in.
He looked from the ornament in his hand to Kate, who was greeting one of the people in attendance. What would she do if his report came back with a recommendation to sell the company? Would she forgive him for doing his job? Or would she expect him to tweak the numbers in her favor?
His gut churned with unease. He assured himself that everything would work out. Wouldn’t it?
If he’d learned anything about Kate, it was that she was honest and caring. She might love the candle company and this small town with all her heart, but she wanted to find an honest way to keep it all functioning. But was that possible?
Kate turned back to him. “Sorry about that. Is something wrong?”
He swallowed hard. “Wrong?”
“Yes. You’re frowning.”
He forced a smile to his face. “No, I’m not.”
She shot him a look that said she didn’t believe him, but she let the subject drop. Her eyes flicked to the ornament in his hand, before meeting his gaze again. “Glad you like it. It wasn’t hard to make. I could show you how.” And then she withdrew a second ornament from her purse. It was another sled, painted white. “They have our names on the back.”
He turned it over and in black paint was his name and the year.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “What’s it for?”
“It’s part of Bayberry’s tradition. Everyone brings an ornament to hang on the tree and their Christmas wish will come true.”
“What do you mean? Like a new car? Or a new job?”
She shrugged. “You won’t know until Christmas. But something good awaits each person who places an ornament on the tree.”
He eyed her with skepticism. “And you really believe this?”
She nodded.
“What Christmas wishes have you received?”
“Um, well, last year Aunt Penney slipped on some ice and broke her wrist. My Christmas wish was that she wouldn’t need surgery. And she didn’t.”
“But that wish wasn’t for you, it was for your aunt.”
“Ah, but see, if Aunt Penney had needed surgery, it would have affected both our lives. So technically it was for me, too.”
“And this year, what are you going to wish for?”
She frowned at him. “I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”
