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Hope stood near the front door of the Christmas Attic holding her children’s darling—okay, overly-decorated—gingerbread house. They hadn’t won the contest. Nathan and his sister had, which had irked Todd no end, but Hope suggested he congratulate his friend. “One day, you two won’t be enemies. Do your best to forgive and forget,” she said, thinking of Steve and how she wished he’d shown up to the event so she could have at least said good-bye to him before he left Hope Valley. And if she was honest, so she could’ve given him a piece of her mind about disappointing his brother and mother. A tear leaked down her cheek. She swiped it away.
“But, Mom, Nathan’s wasn’t that good,” Todd said.
“It wasn’t that bad, either,” she kidded. “You got a little . . .” She twirled a finger.
“Heavy handed with the royal icing?”
“Heavy handed is an understatement.”
Todd guffawed.
Melody hadn’t restrained herself in the candy department, either. Hope had never seen so many candy canes on one house.
Ellery sauntered to Hope and held the gingerbread house until Hope had donned her parka. “I’m so glad you came. Did you have fun?”
“You bet.” Hope kissed Ellery’s cheek. “Thank you for everything, and . . .” She hesitated, battling the emotions swirling inside her as she compared the two versions of Steve. One, giving of himself to help her find Melody, versus the other, who hadn’t had the grace to put in an appearance at his mother’s big event. “Have you heard from either of your sons?”
“No.” A worried expression crossed her face.
Hope hadn’t considered that something might have happened to them. Had they been in a car accident? Had Lincoln had a meltdown? Or had Gloria convinced Steve to return to Portland and he’d dumped his brother at home?
Ellery fanned the air. “I’m sure they’re fine, dear. Just preoccupied. Steve will be sorry he missed you before heading back to Portland,” she said, as if reading Hope’s mind.
“Please tell him good-bye for me.”
––––––––
“That’s right, Hope Valley,” Steve said in his best announcer’s voice. He was sitting in the KQHV sound booth, noise-canceling headphones over his ears, elbows propped on the desk, the microphone inches from his mouth. “Project Christmas Hope Valley is real. Capellini Associates has promised to build a co-op that will house sixty of our disenfranchised families. What’s that? You didn’t know we had struggling families? Yeah, I’ve been blind, too, friends. I needed a special someone to open my eyes and make me realize that in order to be the best community in America, everyone in Hope Valley needs to pitch in and help. We are a family.”
Through the sound booth window, he saw Lincoln shaking something. He gestured and mouthed: In, in, in.
Steve motioned for Lincoln to enter, but he held a finger to his lips as he continued his spiel. “Folks, we all need to pitch in to make this town the best place on earth. Are you with me?” He held a hand to his ear. “I can’t hear you.”
Lincoln rushed to Steve. “Look, look, look.”
Steve covered the microphone. “Shh.”
“Look what Mr. Q gave me.” Lincoln showed him a teeny silver bell. He rang it. Repeatedly.
“Linc, I’m on the air. You—”
“I’m Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life,” Lincoln continued undeterred. “Every time I ring a bell, an angel gets its wings, and we need more angels, right? They help humans. Mom said so.”
Steve felt a lump catch in his throat. Angels. Of course. That’s what this project needed. Lots of angels. He held out his hand. “Got another one, bro?”
Lincoln did. A gold one. He plopped it into Steve’s hand.
Steve rang it three times. “Ho, ho, ho, Hope Valley. Me, again. Steve Waldren. Where was I? Oh, right. Project Christmas Hope Valley. Why are we doing this on Christmas Eve? Because it’s a magical night.” He shook the bell again. “Do you hear that sound? Everyone knows that whenever a bell rings, an angel gets its wings, right?”
Lincoln pumped his fist. “Yeah!”
“So come on, Hope Valley, are you going to be one of those angels and chip in for Project Christmas Hope Valley? We need angels.”
Within an hour, there were over a thousand pledges to help fund the co-op. Within two hours, that number had tripled. Mr. Q and Cici were manning the phones. A couple of the teenagers who had posted flyers were standing inside the door accepting cash donations. Cars filled with donors were lined up around the block.
Steve looked on, emotions swirling through him. Never in his life had he felt this kind of satisfaction. He glanced at Lincoln, who was grinning at him. “Bro, we’re doing it,” he said.
“Yeah, we are.” Lincoln threw his arms around Steve and crushed him with a hug.
Steve could barely breathe. “Hey, whoa. Need air.” He broke free. “You nearly choked me.”
Lincoln laughed. “Because I love you.”
Steve stopped in his tracks. Lincoln had never said those words. “Did you say you love me?”
“Yep.”
“Up high!” Steve raised his hand. “Give me some skin. I love you, too.”
They slapped hands and a feeling of sheer joy coursed through Steve.
