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Channel Four's satellite truck had set up across the street from Provident Square, and a small crowd of familiar faces started to gather near the city's official Christmas tree.
Jessica smoothed the front of her winter white pants. She’d worn her favorite cowl neck red sweater today and affixed a crystal-covered holly-shaped brooch to the edge of the collar where it draped over her shoulder. It was one of her favorite outfits and looked festive.
Something in her stomach grumbled. She couldn’t exactly place why, though. She’d just snacked on Café Provident’s trial run of wassail and roasted chestnuts, so she didn’t think hunger was the right answer. She’d stayed up late into the night practicing her notes and mentally reviewing all her tips for being interviewed that Bradley had taught her at their lunch on the beach. She could actually say she felt confident about how she’d do when the camera turned on.
But that memory brought to mind the source of her one chief concern.
Bradley.
And that kiss.
The thought of going on live TV with a Houston-based TV station didn’t make her nervous. But reliving that kiss in her mind for the twenty-seven-thousand, nine-hundred-and-fifty-second time did.
It wasn’t because she regretted the kiss, either. No, after all those mental replays, she realized her thoughts and fears circled around the fact that she didn’t regret it. Not one bit. That fact surprised her.
Maybe Samantha had been right. She usually was.
Jessica hadn’t dated anyone in years. In fact, she hadn’t thought of dating anyone in years. She’d grown up working in the store, then gone to college and poured her time into her studies and her work at the store—there hadn’t been much left over for anyone or anything else. After college, she did have a few casual connections, but nothing that lasted more than a few dates at the most. No one seemed to understand her obligation to her family’s legacy and the hours that owning a retail store required. If you didn’t put in crazy hours, every day of the week, you would not be successful—especially in a tourist town. There were no days off.
Four years ago, everything came to an abrupt halt when her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Any hours that weren’t spent at the store were spent with her mother, both taking care of her and soaking up the time that remained for Jessica to sit in her presence.
And then, in that cold, bitter Christmas season two years ago, Linda Bretton lost her battle with cancer.
Nothing had been the same since.
Jessica could barely hold together her own heart, much less take the responsibility of investing in someone else’s.
And then along came Bradley Thorpe. He'd just come in Bretton's on the Boardwalk to tear down a poster. She had no idea that at that moment, he'd start tearing down walls she'd had built around her heart for years.
“All ready for your big debut, my dear?” Anita Sullivan usually walked with a dignified, even footfall. But if Jessica didn’t know better, she’d say it sounded like her mentor had scampered up behind her, full of excitement.
Jessica stepped off the last step of the Bretton’s building and down to the historic slate sidewalk.
“I think so.” She took in a deep breath.
“Think so?” Anita nailed Jessica with an askance glance. “You’ve got about 90 seconds of walking between here and where the news crew is set up in front of that Christmas tree. You’d better be ready.”
“I’m ready for the interview, Anita. I’ve been practicing.”
Anita adjusted a tote bag with a quote from Charles Dickens on her shoulder. “So, what’s bothering you?”
“What if—after all the planning and everything else—what if it doesn’t work? What if it all fails?”
“You could. That’s true. That’s a risk you take when you go after something your heart wants—but you don’t have ultimate control over the outcome.” The older woman reached out and placed a hand on Jessica’s forearm. “But my dear, you could also soar like one of our island’s beloved pelicans. You could spread your wings and glide on your way to the horizon. You could go farther than you’ve ever dreamed. This is a season of hope. And it all started with a dream.”
Jessica wrinkled her nose slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Christmas. It started with a dream. An angel appeared to Mary in a dream and told her she’d been chosen to bring the son of God into the world. She never would have aspired to something like that on her own, never would have thought it was possible. But she knew the truth in her heart. She knew she could do what was asked of her—even if it seemed crazy or hard. And you know the truth in your heart, too. It’s been hard for all of us here in Port Provident since Hurricane Hope. So much rebuilding. So many stops and starts. You’ve had your own trials—and I know you’re at the end of your garland with all the worry on your shoulders this season. But wouldn’t it be lovely if Hurricane Hope was more than just a name on a storm? Wouldn’t it be lovely if the dream in your heart brings us all some hope this season? Your friends and neighbors need hope right now. They need you.”
She hadn’t quite thought about it like that. “You know, Anita, I haven’t been to church in years. I own a retail store in a tourist town. I have to be open for tourists on Sundays.”
Anita gave Jessica’s forearm another knowing pat. “The miracle of Christmas is for those who believe in their hearts. Not just for those who sit in pews. The miracle of Christmas is love. And love is for everyone who opens their hearts to the truth of love, my sweet girl.”
“I don’t even know my own heart anymore, Anita.”
“That’s okay, my dear. I know someone who does.”
Jessica turned her head and looked toward the scene in Provident Square. The city’s Christmas tree was lit brightly. Everything was moving into place to be a festive backdrop for the on-camera interview.
A camel walked just behind the central tree, guided to a live nativity scene by a member of First Central Church of Port Provident. She looked at the camel’s escort a little more closely as he brought the tall, golden animal near the manger where the baby representing Jesus would soon lay.
It wasn’t just any member of First Provident. It was Bradley Thorpe.
Anita followed Jessica’s gaze across the street.
“You know, Jessica,” she said with a smile as sweet as a gumdrop on a sugar cookie, “that gentleman with the camel knows who I’m talking about. And something tells me he might know a little about your heart, too.”
Jessica didn’t have long to reflect on the truth of Anita’s words. She was about to be upstaged by a camel in the town square. It figured.
“Bradley, can you control your camel?” Jessica hissed in a loud whisper as the golden-haired mischief maker tried to nibble at the hem of her sweater.
“Doubtful. Have you ever tried to reason with a Bactrian?” Bradley whispered back to Jessica from his spot behind a hump.
Jessica swatted at the probing camel snout. “That’s your problem. The camel doesn’t trust you. You’re dissing him.”
“How on earth would you know that?”
“He’s not a Bactrian. A Bactrian camel has two humps. Your friend there is a dromedary.”
Bradley inspected the camel’s physique, then suddenly leaned low under the camel and then popped back up. “He’s also actually a she. So I’m not the only one the camel doesn’t trust.”
Right now, Jessica could confidently say she didn’t want to kiss Bradley. More to the point, she sort of wanted to slap him.
“Whatever,” she said. “Can you just stop your friend from trying to eat my sweater? This is live TV. I can’t forget what I need to say because I’m distracted by some animal who came straight out of a midnight clear.”
“I’ll do my best,” Bradley said, moving back into place behind the camel hump as David Carbajal walked toward Jessica.
Jessica had no idea how the lead anchor for Channel Four turned out for her story. It seemed to go against all the news station hierarchy.
But she needed to just go with it. People would tune in to see what David Carbajal thought of things—they always did. He was the most respected broadcaster in the area.
“Are you ready?” he asked Jessica as he took a microphone from a member of his team and handed it to her.”
Jessica took a deep breath. She wanted to believe she was ready. That would have to be enough for now. “I think so. Thank you for coming today. I didn’t know you did spots out in the field anymore.”
David fiddled with an earpiece. “I usually don’t, but I overheard some of our producers talking about this and decided to take it for myself. My daughter, Celina, lives here in Port Provident. Covering this gives me the chance to surprise her at school for lunch.”
For some reason, that made Jessica relax. He wasn’t here because of anything crazy. He just wanted to see his daughter. He had a completely logical explanation for covering this particular story.
They both got into place. Jessica made sure to stand a few steps away from Bradley’s curious camel. The backdrop of nativity-themed animals and small children dressed as shepherds made a very touching backdrop.
Jessica wished that they’d been able to pull together something that looked more Victorian, but costumes were still being ordered and backdrops were being hastily built in the wee hours by locals after their day jobs concluded. It was all hands on deck to bring the Victorian Christmas to life, but they would need every second until the opening to pull it off.
So, for now, Bradley had arranged for First Provident to set up their live nativity scene, and Jessica was grateful for the church’s help. And for Bradley’s help. What would she have done without him? He arranged the interview, then he set up a scene to make it look beautiful and festive and inviting for viewers.
Every time she thought about how much Bradley had done for her, her heart began to soar. Then sober reality pulled it back down. She didn’t have the luxury of following her heart into the clouds right now. She had a very real job to do. This was beyond just saving Bretton’s now—she might have even talked herself out of the Victorian Christmas if it was just about her.
People and businesses all across Port Provident were counting on the Victorian Christmas to provide a spark to their holiday season.
They were counting on Jessica.
They needed Jessica.
She didn’t really know how to do any of this. But she did know she couldn’t let them down.
As she told Bradley, she’d been faking being holly and jolly for quite a while now. She could do it for five more minutes while the camera rolled.
The cameraman waved his hand, then counted down with his fingers and pointed directly at David. When a large red light turned on at the top of the camera, David began to speak.
“Well, I’m usually in the studio, but today I’m in the holiday spirit and I’m down here in Port Provident talking about the upcoming Victorian Christmas Carol weekend with Jessica Bretton of Bretton’s on the Boardwalk, a Port Provident institution.” David pivoted slightly toward Jessica and the camel gave a sniff in the TV personality’s direction. “Thanks for joining me today.”
“It’s a pleasure to be out here talking about getting Port Provident into the Christmas spirit.”
Jessica hadn’t realized it, but a crowd had gathered around the square. She saw many familiar faces—not just downtown business owners, but people from all over Port Provident.
Suddenly, she felt energized. These friends and neighbors were here to show their support for Victorian Christmas. They were counting on her to spread the word.
“So, tell me about the idea for Victorian Christmas. The annual Santas on the Street event was canceled, so how did this come about?”
Jessica tried to smile. People on TV liked to see smiles.
Out of the corner of her eye, though, she saw Mayor Angela Ruiz moving through the small gathered crowd. Suddenly, Jessica felt the flutter in her chest of a rapidly-increasing heartrate.
Why was Angela here?
She’d already made it clear she wasn’t a fan of Jessica’s idea.
Would she step in the interview and say something?
Jessica knew it was far-fetched to even think that the mayor would run into the shot and grab the microphone. But stranger things had happened.
Like having a store which had been around for a century now being on the verge of closing its doors.
With that reminder, Jessica took a steadying breath and began to relay the history of the Port Provident Ladies’ Musicale Society and the original event of 1890. She took David Carbajal and his audience through the growth of the event and described how it came to an end after the Great Storm of 1910.
“We’ve been through our own great storm this year, but instead of bringing things to an end, to me, it feels like the right time to pick up a tradition like this again. It is being fully coordinated at the local business level. Each business here in the downtown district is putting their own spin on a Victorian Christmas. You’ll get to try out wassail and roasted chestnuts at Café Provident. Provident Youth Theatre will be staging A Christmas Carol several times during the weekend. And of course, Bretton’s on the Boardwalk will be your home for holiday cheer.”
Jessica hoped her description had been enough to convince people to come. Please, God, let it be enough.
The prayer—brief as it was—shocked Jessica a bit. She wasn’t the praying type. She wasn’t the church type. As she’d told Anita, she didn’t have anything against churches, but running a retail business didn’t make it easy to get there on Sundays.
Maybe Anita’s words about Mary and Christmas had rubbed off. That’s the best explanation Jessica could give herself right now.
“Is there anything else that our viewers can expect down here? I know the mayor has been speaking lately about how Port Provident is open for business. But is the recovery truly in full swing? Or will this just be a handful of stores within a few blocks taking part?”
A chill shot through Jessica’s veins as her heart plummeted. She’d expected the anchor to close with a softball question and then wrap it up and tell people to come out.
Instead, now, the whole event kind of sounded lame.
It sounded like a block party.
No one was going to get in their car and drive from Houston for wassail at a block party.
Jessica should have known better. So much for that prayer. It wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough.
She shouldn’t have pinned all her hopes on this crazy idea. It had sounded good to her because she was desperate for something—anything—to sound like it could save the family business. And so she’d built the chance at pulling off the Victorian Christmas to be something it wasn’t—in her heart, she’d made it out to be something it could never be.
She should have listened to her head instead of Anita and Bradley and their churchy talk...and above all, she shouldn’t have listened to her stupid, naïve heart.
Some things weren’t worth the risk.
“Jessica?” David Carbajal tipped his microphone in her direction, as though he assumed she wasn’t speaking because her microphone was broken.
It wasn’t the microphone that had broken. It was her dream that she could make this work.
“Yes—this is something the whole island is excited about.” Becca Collins, director of the Port Provident Animal Shelter, stepped out of the crowd and walked over to Jessica and took the microphone. “The Port Provident Animal Shelter will be there with several pets who need a fur-ever home for the holidays. And Dr. Ross Reeder will be on site giving information about a program he has to match homes with combat dogs who are retiring from the Army. It will be a great chance for people to come out and learn about how to foster or adopt the perfect animal for their family.”
All Jessica could do was smile and take a deep breath of relief.
David nodded and turned toward Becca. “How’s the shelter doing after the storm?”
“Thanks to the Peoples Property Group, we are doing great. We’re moving into a new location, thanks to their generosity and some assistance from our friends at Helping Hands Homes.”
Becca pointed directly at Matt McGregor, the executive director of the organization.
“And who’s that?” David asked.
Matt came forward as Becca introduced him. “Matt is a Port Provident native who now lives in Austin, but he’s come back with Helping Hands Homes to make a huge impact in our community by rebuilding one hundred damaged homes by Christmas.”
David put out his hand and Matt shook it as he came to stand close to Becca. “So, tell the viewers at home—what number are you on?”
“With just a few weeks to go, we have ninety-four restorations complete. I actually expect to exceed our goal by one or two.”
David looked back at the camera, then turned again toward Matt. “And will you be part of the Victorian Christmas, as well?”
“Well, I’ll probably be working,” Matt chuckled. “But I was just talking with Princess Anneliese de Cotriaro of San Petro—her capital city is a sister city to Port Provident and she came here for a while to help us rebuild and raise funds—and she said that she plans to come back for the holidays to see this.”
Jessica felt her jaw drop slightly. She knew Princess Anneliese had raised an incredible amount of money for Port Provident, but now that she’d gone home, Jessica had never dreamed that the royal would keep tabs on little things going on in the city like this.
“In fact—Jessica, will there be a parade? Because I definitely think the princess would love to be a part.”
Before Jessica could make up an answer to Matt’s question, Samantha slipped out of the crowd and stepped forward within view of the camera. “A parade is part of the event’s history. Starting in 1901, members of the British royal family were appearing as the grand marshals of the Victorian Christmas parade to celebrate the connection to Queen Victoria and honor her life, as she had just passed away earlier that year. Not only are we investigating how to put together a parade, but I’ve been talking with Home and Hearth TV about coming back to film the weekend. They were here last year, before the storm, and they’ve expressed an interest in following up with our city. I can’t think of a better event to highlight our recovery from Hurricane Hope than this.”
“I agree,” David said. “It sounds like this could be one of the biggest weekends Port Provident has seen in years.”
Jessica noted an air of enthusiasm in his voice that hadn’t been there only moments ago. Once the others stepped forward out of the audience, it gave a whole new level of credibility to the event. David Carbajal had noticed. Maybe his viewers would too.
Maybe Christmas could be saved after all.
Maybe Jessica’s Christmas wish could come true.
Maybe hasty prayers could move mountains—or sand dunes, as the case may be.
“Well, that’s it from here in Port Provident. Be sure you come down next weekend for Victorian Christmas. All of Port Provident is turning out to make it a success. All they need is you to come down, spread some Christmas cheer, and support the city’s recovery from Hurricane Hope.”
David wrapped it all up in a way that made Jessica want to hug him. Yes. That was exactly it. He said it perfectly.
As Jessica turned to shake his hand to conclude the interview, something held her back.
This time, it wasn’t her feelings or her fear.
It was a camel. Specifically, a dromedary with a small bit of attitude.
Jessica twisted around as much as she could with her sweater pinned between camel’s teeth. Bradley shrugged.
“Don’t worry. I’m not quitting the day job.” He flashed her a smile that would have melted the most stubborn winter snow as he coaxed the camel into letting go. Looking at the joy and relief on his face turned her feet into pools of hot chocolate. “And, so, it seems, neither are you. Nice job, Bretton. The people will turn out for this. Wait and see.”
Wait and see.
Only a few more days until they’d know if Bradley’s prediction would come true.
She could wait a few more days. She had so much work to do in the meantime.
And she couldn’t help but wish to see that smile on his face again—and soon.
Bradley hadn’t seen Jessica in three days, but as he helped First Provident set up for tonight’s official Christmas pageant on the square, he realized his eyes were glued to the Bretton’s front door across the way.
He felt a bit like a stalker elf, but he needed to see Jessica. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours telling himself that she was just busy. She wasn’t avoiding him.
Or so he hoped. If Santa was going to be here tonight, he’d sit in the jolly old man’s lap and ask him for just one Christmas wish—another kiss with Jessica Bretton.
He didn’t want much.
Just a chance. Just a kiss. And maybe, just a little bit of forever.
“I see you hiding back there. I was hoping you’d bring your pet camel with you.”
Bradley stepped from behind the Christmas tree and was relieved to hear that Jessica’s voice sounded completely relaxed—no signs of second-guessing, regrets, or stress. She must have been able to think about something other than the kiss on the beach.
“She’s coming on the next trailer. I think there’s a few sheep and donkeys coming with her too. She’s been a little cantankerous today—did you know that camels spit?—and that probably won’t go well with that pretty holly brooch you’re wearing.”
She touched the red and green crystals lightly with her fingers. “It belonged to my mother. My father had it custom-made by one of our long-time vendors.”
“Then we definitely wouldn’t want to get camel spit on it.” Bradley gave a mock-scathing look over his shoulder to the dromedary. “Hey, the live nativity will be up and running in about an hour. I’ve done my part for the setup. Now it’s just a matter of waiting for the animals to get here. Would you like to walk through it with me tonight? Maybe we can go across the street to Soda Pop’s and get a shake or something while we wait.”
Bradley held his breath just slightly. It was the first time he’d asked her to do anything by themselves since that kiss on the beach. He reminded himself of the promise he’d made to himself. No more silence. Jessica needed someone who would stand by her.
He could do that.
He would do that.
Well, as long as she said yes to a chocolate peppermint shake and an evening with sheep, camels, and baby Jesus.
When they arrived at their destination, Bradley was pleased to see that a short line snaked around the inside of Soda Pop.
“It’s exciting to see people lined up in here for a change,” Jessica said in a lowered voice as they waited. “Every time I’ve been in here since the hurricane, there have been two or three other people, tops. It gives me some encouragement that things are going to work out.”
Bradley indulged himself in his new favorite pastime, settling his arm around Jessica’s shoulders. “They are. You’ve got a good plan. I know you and your fellow business owners can execute it. You’ve just got to have faith.”
She gave a sharp, stilted nod of her head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Before the TV interview, Anita said something similar to what you’re saying.”
Jessica turned and faced him in the line. Her eyes were wide and Bradley the oversized pupils made them look very dark—almost like the camel’s, right down to the long, graceful fringe of lashes.
He nodded, prompting her to push through the pause and continue.
"I just don't have that in me anymore. I explained to Anita that I haven't been to church in years. When you're the person who has the keys to the store, and you've got to be open on the days the most tourists are present, well... it just gets hard. I quit even trying after my mom died. Didn't seem like there was much of a point, anyway."
They reached the front of the line and Bradley ordered a peppermint chocolate shake for both of them. While it always struck him as counter-intuitive to buy an ice cream-based treat during the winter, he couldn’t deny that since he’d come to Port Provident, these once-a-year specialties had come to symbolize one of his favorite things about the holidays.
"Come on over here with me." Bradley kept his arm tucked around Jessica's shoulders as they strolled back across the street to Provident Square. The dark sky of evening had settled above them, and the light from the stars above provided a nice counterpoint to the twinkle of the small white lights wrapped around the Christmas tree in the corner of the square.
Jessica sipped on her shake through the oversized straw as they walked, not saying much. They walked down a path designed to look like a street in Bethlehem. Then they came to the replica stable.
Bradley squeezed the top of her shoulder gently. “Stop right here. Do you see it?”
She turned her head from side to side. “No, I guess I don’t. What’s ‘it’?”
“Her.” He pointed at a young woman dressed in a plain blue dress with a white robe. “She’s just like you.”
“Mary? I don’t understand. I don’t have a baby.”
“No. But I’m not talking about that. By all accounts, she was a nice young woman. She was engaged. He was gainfully employed as a carpenter. She knew what her life was going to look like, what was expected of her. You’ve always known that about yourself, too. Bretton’s has been in your family for generations. Have you ever wanted to do anything else?”
She hesitated before replying. “Well, no. Not really. I’m an only child, and so was my dad. If I didn’t take over Bretton’s, who would? It’s just in my blood, I guess.”
“So you do understand.” He continued. “One day, she was told her life was going to be very different than those thoughts and dreams she’d held since she was born. Her family wouldn’t be there. She’d have to do it on her own. She’d wind up needing to be resourceful—like using a feeding trough filled with hay—and she’d need to believe in her own abilities. But she wouldn’t be alone, either.”
“Well, sure. God, right?”
“Absolutely, but more than that, God gave the same dream to one special person in her life. One person who would be alongside her and who would understand.” He turned and looked right in Jessica’s wide, dark blue eyes. “The holidays are about hope, Jessica—and perhaps this holiday even more than any Port Provident has seen before. You may be far from your family and life may not look like you’ve always thought it would, but you do have someone who understands. Me.”
She wiggled a little, and Bradley took the hint to pull his arm back down to his side.
“I want to say yes, Bradley. But I feel like I’m imposing on you or something.”
His heart sank a little. Maybe neither of them would get their Christmas wishes this year.
Or maybe he needed to take his own advice and just believe.
“Jessica, close your eyes.” His voice dropped to a whisper. People swirled in the square all around them, but his words were only for her. “Believe.”
He pulled little more closely toward her. Their breath mingled in puffs above the chill of the peppermint shakes.
“In what?” She sounded a little confused, but she didn’t open her eyes. “In God, in Christmas, in miracles?”
Bradley lowered his head and kissed her softly. He tasted the quick bite of the peppermint between them.
He held his breath, waiting. Had he made the right decision?
Jessica leaned toward him and deepened the kiss. She didn’t pull away. And then he knew.
When the kiss was over, he brushed his thumb across her lower lip, then tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“In us,” he whispered.
Jessica’s eyes reflected the light of the Bethlehem star over the live nativity. She smiled back at him, and he watched an age-old knowledge settle into her gaze.
“I do,” she said simply, and it was enough for Bradley.
The chance to show her how much he cared was the best Christmas gift he’d never dared to ask for.
