The corner store where the robbery happened last night comes into view. Mr. Bradford’s window is boarded up, and some of his display was affected by the shattered glass. But he’s standing outside with a cocoa stand that’s abuzz with people. He takes orders and hands paper mugs with a radiant smile. He’s not letting one bad seed ruin his Christmas spirit.
I open the door of the shop to the right of his. Since I got back, I’ve been meaning to come by to see how Regina is anyway. Another officer had taken statements from the nearby shop owners so I didn’t see her this morning. But she always keeps mystery novels set aside for me. You’d think I would want something not related to my job, but I thoroughly enjoy reading crime and mystery novels. Evenwhen I think I might know the way the plot will go, the author spins it in a different direction.
Regina is always such a pleasure to talk with too. She’s run the store since I moved here and is a wealth of knowledge. She would fill me in on the latest releases, town information, and world history facts. Maybe she caught wind of something and has a tidbit of something, anything, to help us catch this criminal.
“Regina?” I call out as I glance about the place. She must have done some reorganizing. It looks more tidy, and…something else is different too.
The soft tone of someone reading a book aloud distracts me. I turn toward the kid’s section where the voice is coming from. As I grow closer, the voice becomes more clear. It’s not Regina.
Goosebumps ripple down my spine. “He tiptoed through the house.”
That’s when she appears in sight. Jane. My heart is thrumming so loud, the whole town could probably hear it.
“Past the stockings and the twinkling lights,” she continues, unaware of my presence.
She’s sitting on a stool with children surrounding her eagerly listening to what she’s reading. Parents are standing along the back bookshelf.
Is it really her? I’m not imagining this, am I? Do I miss her so much that I’m mistaking someone else for her? Cause that would be utterly embarrassing.
She closes the book, asking the children a few questions.
“Thank you for coming to our story hour today. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.” The kids start to scatter, and she lowers her voice. “Parents, there is a little treat by the register from the bakery, if you don’t mind them having it.”
A few parents thank her then she spins around. That’s when her striking green eyes meet mine for the first time in…way too long. Her mouth slightly opens as she holds my gaze. I give a little wave of my hand and smile, hoping it’s a dashing smile and not a goofy one.
A sea of kids come running around us, cheering, “Cookies!”
“Andrew?” she finally asks, walking toward me. “How did you…Why are…” Her cheeks are becoming a beautiful shade of red.
I chuckle because I feel the same way. I can’t form a word, let alone a sentence, at this moment. I want to walk forward and lay a hand on that sweet cheek of hers just to prove to myself that she is real. That she is here, with me, once again.
10
Jane
“Jane.” Andrew envelops me tightly in a bear hug, swinging me around in the air.
I wrap my arms around his neck and feel myself melt into his embrace. My heart races with excitement and shock, as if it has been years since we last saw each other, instead of just six days.
Andrew looks amazing in a crisp white dress shirt and navy blue suit, a far cry from the casual clothes he wore during our time together. The sight of him causes my cheeks to flush red, but the added bonus of seeing him in a tailored suit sets my insides on fire.
As he sets me back down on the ground, he keeps his hands on my waist while I hold onto his shoulders for support.
“What are you doing here?” Andrew asks, his face contorted with shock and confusion.
“I own the place,” I reply, watching as his eyebrows shoot up in disbelief.
“But Regina owns the place.”
“You know Regina?” I exclaim, mirroring his shocked expression.
“She was one of the first people to welcome me when I moved to Oakridge Hollow a few years ago. She always sets aside mystery novels for me. Wait, so you bought this from Regina?”
I nod. “I grew up here, in Oakridge Hollow and in Timeless Tales. She is the one who sparked my love for literature—writing and reading. For a while now, I’ve dreamed of owning a quaint bookstore like this, and when we were in Silver Valley, my mom called saying Regina was selling the place. I knew I had to come home and buy it,” I explain enthusiastically.
“And that’s why you left abruptly,” Andrew says, a small smile forming on his lips as if he’s piecing together a puzzle. “Wow, what a coincidence. So you live here now?”
“I quit my job, moved in with my parents, and bought Timeless Tales. Oakridge Hollow is home now. Well, again,” I say with a contented sigh.
