Not Just For Christmas. Debbie Macomber

Hassie protested. “That’s hardly enough time for me to show you everything.”

      “Carrie already gave me a tour of town.”

      “That’s good, but I have a number of things I’ve saved that I’d like you to have—things that were my son’s.”

      Her disappointment was unmistakeable, and Carrie glanced at Vaughn, trying to signal him, hoping he’d change his mind.

      “I want to see them.”

      Carrie could have hugged him right then and there.

      “But,” he added, “you’ve had a long, tiring day. Perhaps it would be better if I came back later.”

      Hassie didn’t bother to deny what was obvious. “Would it be too much to ask you to come here on Sunday?” Both her hands gripped his, as if she was afraid to let him go.

      Carrie found herself just as eager to hear his response.

      “I’ll meet you at the store shortly after noon,” he said. “I’ll look forward to seeing you then.”

      Carrie felt a surge of relief—and anticipation. She couldn’t help smiling, first at Hassie, then at Vaughn.

      Happiness shimmered in the old woman’s eyes as she placed one hand on Carrie’s shoulder and leaned heavily against her.

      “That would be perfect,” she said quietly. “Thank you, Vaughn.”

       Two

      Hassie felt old and weary, especially after a day like this. But God had rewarded her patience by sending Vaughn Kyle to Buffalo Valley. Seeing him, however briefly, had lifted her spirits. Best of all was his promise to return on Sunday afternoon.

      Tired though she was, Hassie brewed herself a cup of tea and sat at her kitchen table, mulling over the events of the day. Ambrose Kohn had been a thorn in her side for many years. His family had lived and worked in town for generations, but with impeccable timing, the Kohns had moved to Devils Lake just before the economy in Buffalo Valley collapsed.

      Ambrose owned several pieces of property here and a building or two. The theater belonged to him, and he’d been quick enough to close it down, despite the town council’s efforts to convince him otherwise. The old building still had plenty of life in it, but it’d sat abandoned and neglected until the first year Lindsay Snyder came to Buffalo Valley as the high-school teacher. She’d wanted to use it for a Christmas play. If Hassie remembered correctly, Ambrose had demanded she go out with him first before he gave permission. That annoyed Hassie even now, several years later.

      Lindsay had attended some social function with Ambrose, and it had nearly ruined her relationship with Gage Sinclair. But she and Gage had resolved their differences. They’d been married for more than five years now and were parents of two beautiful daughters.

      Ambrose, despite his underhanded methods, had walked away a winner, as well. After the community had cleaned up that old theater and put on the high-school Christmas program, he’d reopened the movie house and it’d been in operation ever since.

      Unfortunately Ambrose hadn’t learned anything from that experience. He hadn’t learned that people in Buffalo Valley loved their town and that they supported one another. He hadn’t figured out that for them, Buffalo Valley was home, not just a place to live. Now the middle-aged bachelor held the fate of the community in his hands. Value-X, a huge retailer, wanted to move into town and they wanted to set up shop on land owned by Ambrose. The company had a reputation for sweeping into small towns and then systematically destroying independent and family-owned businesses. Six months earlier, Hassie had watched a television report on the effect the mega-retailer had on communities. At the time she’d never dreamed Buffalo Valley might be targeted. Naturally the company insisted this was progress and a boon to the town’s economy. There were already articles in some of the regional papers, touting the company’s supposedly civic-minded attitudes. Profit-minded was more like it.

      No one needed to tell Hassie what would happen to Buffalo Valley if Value-X decided to follow through with its plans. All the small businesses that had recently started would die a fast and painful death. Her own pharmacy wouldn’t be immune.

      Ambrose owned twenty acres just outside of town; this was the property Value-X was interested in acquiring, and he wasn’t opposed to selling it—no matter how badly it damaged the community.

      Nothing Hassie said had the least bit of impact on him. Buffalo Bob, as president of the town council, had tried to reason with him, too, again without success. Heath Quantrill had thrown up his hands in frustration at the man’s stubborn refusal to listen.

      While Ambrose didn’t live in Buffalo Valley, he did have a powerful influence on its future. For that reason alone, he should think carefully about his decision to sell that parcel of land. Progress or not, it wasn’t the kind of future she or anyone here saw for Buffalo Valley. Jerry, her husband, might have been able to talk sense into Ambrose, but Jerry had died the year after Vaughn. She’d lost them both so close together.

      The TV report on Value-X had made a strong impression on Hassie. What had stayed in her mind most clearly were the interviews with business owners, some with three- and four-generation histories. They’d been forced to close down, unable to compete. Local traditions had been lost, pride broken. Men and women wept openly, in despair and hopelessness. Downtown areas died out.

      Hassie couldn’t bear to think what would happen to Buffalo Valley if Ambrose sold that land to those outsiders. Why, it would undo all the work the town council had done over the past six years. The outcome was too dismal to consider.

      Joanie Wyatt’s video-rental and craft store would probably be one of the first to fold. And the Hendricksons—they’d sunk everything they had in this world and more into AceMan Hardware. Value-X would undercut the lowest prices they could charge and ring the store’s death knell for sure.

      Dennis Urlacher supplied car parts to the community at his filling station. Although that was only a small portion of his business, Dennis had once mentioned that his largest profit margin came from the auto parts and not the fuel. It wouldn’t be long before his business was affected, too. Even Rachel Quantrill’s new hamburger stand would lose customers. Maddy’s Grocery would suffer, too; how long she’d be able to hold on depended on Value-X’s plans. It was said that many of the newer stores included groceries.

      None of that concerned Ambrose. All he knew was that he’d been offered a fair price for a piece of land that had sat vacant for years. He’d let it be known that he fully intended to sell those acres. If anyone else was interested, he’d entertain other offers. Ambrose had made one thing perfectly clear: the offer had to be substantially higher than the deal Value-X had proposed. No one in town, not even Heath Quantrill, had a thick-enough bankroll to get into a bidding war with the huge retailer.

      Hassie sipped her tea and purposely turned her thoughts in a more pleasant direction. What a fine-looking young man Vaughn Kyle was. After all these years, she was grateful to finally meet him. His letters had meant so much to her, and she’d saved each thank-you note from the time he was six years old.

      For a short while after her son was buried, Hassie and Barbara, the boy’s mother, had been close. They’d stayed in touch, but then a year later the wedding announcement arrived. Barbara, the beautiful young woman her son had loved, was marrying Rick Kyle, who’d been one of Vaughn’s best friends.

      Hassie didn’t begrudge the couple happiness, but she hadn’t attended the wedding. Their marriage was a painful reminder that life continues. If circumstances had been different, this might have been her own son’s wedding.

      Two years later, Rick and Barbara had mailed her the birth announcement. They’d named their first child after Hassie’s son. Two years later came another birth announcement, this time