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Before she could dwell on it, Morgan approached her, her eyes red-rimmed as well.

“Hannah.” Morgan’s voice was thick with emotion. “What have you done? It’s not enough that you opened your home and heart to my children. You had to go and arrange all this.”

Hannah smiled at her friend. “The concert has been planned for months. We just added another cause to support. The concert committee was delighted to be able to help. I’m so happy we can take at least a little worry off your mind.”

She glanced toward the back of the chapel, where Riley and Carter were laughing at something their grandfather was saying. Riley was hanging on Ed’s arm like she never wanted to let go.

“The children are with your father. Does that mean you two have found some measure of peace?”

Morgan’s expression softened. “When you’re fighting for your life, it’s amazing how everything important comes into focus. I spent so much time being angry at him for trying to protect me, but I can see now that everything he did was motivated by love. He just went about it the wrong way.”

Her voice grew quiet. “Life is short. I don’t know how much time I have left. I hope it’s many, many years. But I don’t want to waste any of them with a heart full of bitterness. So yes, I’ve decided to make my peace with him. This is the season for it, isn’t it?”

Hannah stepped forward and hugged her friend. “I’ll be done here shortly, then I can take you home.”

Morgan gave her a half smile. “Actually, Dad offered to drive us. And, Hannah . . . please don’t be upset, but I think the children would like to spend tonight in their own beds at our house. Dad’s going to stay with us there and help me with them. Tomorrow we’re putting up a Christmas tree and making cookies.”

Hannah experienced a quick flash of disappointment. She had been making her own plans for baking and decorating with Riley and Carter while she visited with Morgan.

But seeing the hope in the other woman’s eyes, she understood completely.

“Of course. They need this time with you and with their grandfather. But you know my door is always open, right? We can work out what will happen with them after you have to go back to the cancer center.”

“Yes. Thank you for everything.” Morgan gave her another tremulous smile and hugged her.

“You’re welcome. I have loved having the children these past weeks. Thank you for giving me the chance to help you.”

After Morgan left with her family, Hannah gathered her coat and guitar. The chapel, empty now, was quiet and still. Peaceful. She stood for long moments alone in the semi-darkness, looking at the large crèche with its handmade wooden figures.

The figure of the Madonna stood beside the manger, a look of wonder on her carved features. Here was a mother who had faced the impossible. Carrying hope in the darkest of times, discovering joy wrapped in the most ordinary of circumstances.

In this hushed space, Hannah’s own burdens felt lighter somehow. For some reason, she thought of her favorite Beatles song and the message about Mother Mary, Paul McCartney’s own mother, who died of breast cancer when he was young, coming to him when he was troubled with her wise words.

Let it be. Let it be.

The other Mary, this wooden Madonna, seemed to understand the particular heartbreak of loving someone who might leave again.

But there was something else in that serene expression, splashed by muted colors from a wedge of moonlight filtering in through the stained-glass windows. Not just acceptance of pain, but a bone-deep understanding that love, real love, was worth the risk.

Even if it meant being vulnerable again. Even if it meant opening herself to the possibility of another goodbye.

Hannah closed her eyes and let the Beatles’ gentle wisdom wash over her as she hummed softly. She couldn’t make Wes stay. She couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t break her heart again. But she could stop fighting the love she felt for him.

She could let it be. The love, the fear, the hope, all of it.

With new resolve, she walked out of the chapel, closed the door behind her and stopped when she realized someone else was in the small foyer.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Wes stood in the doorway, snowflakes spangling his hair, his coat, catching the light. Her heart gave a small burst of joy, of recognition. Of love.

Let it be, she thought. Whatever might happen between them, she needed to let their melody play out.

“Wes! I thought everyone had left.”

He shrugged, looking embarrassed. “The storm seemed to let up during the concert but started up again as people were leaving. I wanted to make sure all the Shelter Inn residents made it home safely. It took a few trips.”

Her heart softened completely. How could she possibly resist a man like this?

“Thank you for doing that.”