Christmas in Evergreen Tidings of Joy - Nancy Naigle Page 0,41

for just a few minutes and get down a few more notes.”

“I should get to the library.” Ben hesitated, but then explained, “I’m the one who puts the lights on the tree.” He pivoted, walking back toward her. “I’ve got to get the lights up. I’m the light guy. Stop by later?”

“I will.” She watched him walk down the street, right past Ezra, who stood in front of the time capsule still staring up at it. But her focus was on Ben. The confidence in his stride held her attention.

There was so much energy coursing through town square at this moment: smiling faces of the people who’d just witnessed the time capsule reveal, and delight of others as the gossip whipped like a wildfire in a windstorm through town.

She was so thankful she’d been walking by when this had happened.

Suddenly she remembered she’d been heading to the library to rescue her article from the printer. “Ben, wait!”

But he was pretty far ahead. Hopefully, he’d be busy putting up lights until she got there. She couldn’t risk missing out on this. She stooped to the ground, placing her notebook on one knee, and scribbled as fast as she could before walking over to Ezra and asking for a few comments from his perspective as the former mayor of this town.

It was no surprise to Katie that Ezra was astounded he hadn’t been part of the secret and maybe even had hurt feelings, but with all the seriousness of a politician, he’d responded, “I’m not surprised at all. Evergreen has always held a certain amount of magic and excitement. This is just par for the course.”

Chapter Sixteen

Katie was relieved the tree in the front of the library was still bare. Hopefully, that meant she’d beaten Ben back to the library. She raced up the steps and inside. Nobody was at the front desk.

She let out a breath. Thank goodness luck was on her side this morning. She walked toward the back room, where the printer was.

Ben stepped around the corner from Nan’s office.

“Ben. Hi.” Katie froze. From the strained look on his face, she had the sick feeling he’d already found what she’d come to retrieve. “There was a paper that I left on the printer that—”

He moved to the center of the room, where he normally read to the children, and lifted a piece of paper in front of him. The low children’s bookshelves made him look larger than life.

Her breath caught.

Without a hint of a smile, Ben began reading from her outline. His voice was clear, and he projected as if performing. The deep crease between his eyebrows further accentuated the tension that already came through in his tone. “Despite the warmth and honest connection these people feel, it’s hard not to wonder how much of Evergreen is an act.”

Katie hoped her knees wouldn’t buckle beneath her. “Okay, first of all, that’s just the notes I was taking to send to my mother. Who is also my editor, but—”

He looked so disappointed in her, and that hung heavy in her heart. “I get it. I get how easy it is to say, ‘what a bunch of Christmas weirdos,’ or ‘look at those oddballs running around their Christmas Village.’”

His words stung.

He twisted the paper between his hands into a scroll. “But you’ve met these people. You’ve become their friend. Why would you make so light of their feelings? Of who they truly are?”

The words on that page were harsh. It was a story—not the one she wanted to write, the one she should write. “Oh, Ben, that’s not what I was doing.” She’d never have submitted that draft. She knew it wasn’t right yet. She hadn’t meant for anyone else to see it.

“Do you really think this is all for show? You can’t imagine for a minute we’re doing what makes us happy?”

It had been her first impression. She couldn’t deny that. “I think a lot of people would come here and find it all a little too good to be true, yes.”

“And what about you?” His gaze was laser-steady. He wanted an answer.

Feeling under attack, she didn’t know how to respond. “I just watched your mayor open up a wall that has Christmas presents from fifty years ago. I gotta be honest, I’m not sure what to believe.”

The twinkle that usually danced in Ben’s eyes was nowhere to be found. It was as if a heavy cloud hung over him. His words came slow and steady. “Some places, some people