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I hadn’t had a tree in years, and I sure as hell hadn’t taken part in the Oak Springs Christmas extravaganza Kate had put on over the past few years. Not that she didn’t do an amazing job of transforming the town. Last year, the theme wasThe Nutcracker.
Frank and Jacob understood why I didn’t want to take part in the holiday, and they didn’t push me. The town didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t there either since they had dubbed me the town grouch. What was it they called me, Grumpy Sheriff?
My cell phone rang, and I groaned.
“Hello?”
“Sid, hi. It’s Kate. I was wondering if you and Kat were coming to the tree lighting tonight.”
“That’s tonight?” I asked, running a hand through my hair. “I…I’ll check with Kat.”
“Great. I think she mentioned she was, but I forgot, and I wanted to get a count.”
“A count?”
She laughed. “Yes. I like to know a roundabout number so we can provide enough hot chocolate and cookies. You guys were on my list to call because you didn’t answer the online poll.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s because we missed the last town meeting. I didn’t know there was a poll.”
“I mentioned it to Kat, but maybe she forgot. Anyway, can you let me know as soon as possible?”
“Can’t you make a few extras, just in case?” I asked.
“Yeah…I guess we could.”
I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “I’ll get right back to you,” I promised.
“Thanks.”
I hung up and went in search of Connie. The squad room was bustling, but not in a good way. Christmas had exploded inside the station. Decorations were strewn everywhere, and Christmas music was playing from somewhere. Connie was singing along. She was also dancing on a ladder, and that didn’t sit well with me.
“Connie,” I barked. She startled and almost lost her balance. I should have been more careful. “Make Nelson climb the ladder.”
“I already offered, and she told me no. That’s why I’m holding it,” he said.
“I was fine until you brought your grinch attitude out here. Go away,” Connie said.
Grumbling, I walked out of the station and to my truck. I stopped at Lettuce Eat before going home. When I walked in the front door of my house, I froze. Kat had a guitar in her lap, and she was playing a song and singing. Her voice was delicate but lilting, reminding me of the folk singers my mom listened to when we were younger.
She noticed me and stopped. “Oh, hi.”
“I didn’t know you played. That was beautiful,” I said, walking in and setting our food on the coffee table.
“Thank you. My grandfather on my mom’s side taught us to play instruments when we were younger. Rebecca chose the piano, and I chose the guitar. We were both blessed with singing voices like our mom.” She stood and leaned the guitar against the wall.
“Tell me more,” I said, taking a seat on the couch.
She shrugged. “Not much to tell. My grandpa died when I was a teen, and I asked for his guitar so I could continue playing. What brings you home for lunch?”
“I wanted to see you,” I said. The lie felt bitter on my tongue.
“Is that all?” she pressed.
“No.”
“I figured. Spill.”
“Kate wants to know if we’re going to the tree lighting tonight. I guess there was an online poll, but we didn’t answer.”
