“That house has been there for more than a hundred years,” Conner explained. “But it’s built solid as a rock. I just hope nothing cracks up too much by the time they get it across town.”

  “Where are they taking it?” Emily asked.

  “Not too far from your apartment,” he told her. “Just the other side of the grade school.”

  “Why is it being moved?” Krista took another bite.

  “This property is being developed for new homes,” he explained.

  “Dad is building them,” Anna said proudly.

  “Not by myself,” he said quietly. “I have a good crew. We plan to put up twenty small houses in here. Affordable houses. But attractive and with quality construction.”

  “Well, this town needs housing.” Krista reached for her milkshake. “Looks like you’re doing your part. But wouldn’t it have been easier to tear the cottage down? And cheaper?”

  “Maybe,” he conceded. “But it’s kind of a special little house.”

  “It was built by the founding family of Winter Hill,” Anna told them. “Dad wanted to preserve it.”

  “But I still don’t know why it’s called the Christmas House.” Emily took a big bite of her burger.

  “The Christmas House?” Krista asked.

  “That’s right,” Conner said. “That’s what we’re calling it.”

  “But why?” Emily asked.

  “Because it’s part of our Christmas celebration,” Anna patiently explained. “Have you heard about Christmasville, Emily?”

  “I saw that on the sign,” Emily said with a full mouth. “What is it?”

  “Chew your food before you talk,” Krista quietly reminded her.

  “Winter Hill is famous for Christmasville,” Anna said. “Trust me, you’re going to absolutely love it.”

  “What’s it like? What happens at Christmasville?” Emily asked.

  “All sorts of things. The whole town helps put it together,” Anna said. “We build this whole Christmas town. There’s the Santa Claus house, and Santa’s workshop, and Mrs. Claus’s kitchen, and a candy shop, and a toy shop, and we even have an ice rink and—”

  “There she goes.” Conner pointed to the house, which was now solidly on the street and starting to move a bit more quickly. “I want to follow it down the street.” He slid off the tailgate.

  “Can Emily and I stay back here?” Anna asked him.

  “Well, I don’t know.” Conner glanced at Krista. “I’d let Anna sit back here since we’ll only go about five miles an hour, but you might not want Emily to ride—”

  “Please, Mama, please!”

  “Only five miles an hour?” Krista questioned.

  “Yes. If we need to go any faster, we could have the girls get in the cab.”

  “Please,” Emily pleaded.

  “Will you be really, really careful?” Krista asked her.

  “I’ll watch Emily,” Anna assured Krista. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

  “I’ll do whatever Anna tells me,” Emily said. “Please.”

  “Well, five miles an hour is about like a fast walk,” Krista conceded. “I suppose it’s okay.” She zipped Emily’s parka the rest of the way up then shook her finger at her. “Be safe and stay warm.”

  “We’ll wrap up in the blanket,” Anna said as Conner helped Krista down, then closed the tailgate. Soon they were back in the cab, and keeping a safe distance, Conner followed the house. It traveled like a giant, well-lit snail as it advanced down the street. Although it was dark, a number of interested onlookers lined the street, calling out greetings as the slow-moving processional passed by.

  “This feels kind of like a nighttime parade.” Krista polished off the last bite of her burger. “Fun.”

  “Too bad I didn’t think to add some green lights to the house. And I could’ve put on some Christmas music. I didn’t realize spectators would come out to watch the move.” He waved to a woman with a camera. “That’s Beth Seymour,” he told Krista. “She works for the newspaper. I’ll bet the Christmas House makes the front page of Wednesday’s edition. But that’s because we’re such a small town there’s never any really big news.”

  The woman with the camera waved back as she ran over to the pickup. “Hey, Conner,” she called into the cab. “Can I hitch a ride with you?”

  “Sure.” He slowed to a stop then climbed out. “Hop in.” He pushed up the console dividing the seats, helping Beth to get in and pausing to introduce the two women.

  “So you’re the new city manager.” Beth shook Krista’s hand with enthusiasm. “Maybe I can get some photos of you too. This is great. Killing two birds with one stone.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Who’s that back there with Anna?”

  “That’s my daughter, Emily.” Krista explained that they’d just arrived and that Conner and Anna had helped them move in. “This is the first we’ve seen of town.”

  “See that building over there?” Beth pointed to a three-story brick building. “That’s City Hall. Where you’ll be working.”

  “That’s a big building for a small town.”

  “Well, City Hall is on the top floor. The library is on the second floor. And the first floor, which used to house the police station, is now used for office space, although much of it is unoccupied. But I hear it will be put to good use for Christmasville this year.”

  “Interesting.” Krista asked a few more questions and, as the pickup crept along, Beth continued giving her the lowdown on other points of interest.

  “Beth is a great resource in this town,” Conner said as they stopped to wait for the house to turn a corner. “She knows everyone and everything.”

  As the processional picked up speed again, still creeping along at five miles an hour, Krista felt uneasy. She’d nearly forgotten that she’d planned for Emily to go to school in the morning. “How long do you think it’ll take to get the house completely moved and situated?”

  “It’s about three more blocks,” he told her. “Shouldn’t be too long.”

  “And that’s the grade school up ahead.” Beth pointed to a single-story brick structure. “I’m guessing your daughter will go there.”

  “That’s right.” Krista nodded. “Do you know much about the school?”

  “Both my sons attended there. I believe we have some of the best teachers in the state. Honestly, I can only sing their praises. My boys are in middle school now . . . that’s another story. But from what I hear most middle schools are like that.”

  “Anna would concur with you,” Conner said. “She’s been much happier in high school.”

  “That’s a relief.” Beth pointed to a pretty Victorian house on a corner. “We’re just entering the historical neighborhood now.”

  “That’s where we’re putting the Christmas House,” Conner told Krista. “An old house was so badly neglected and full of dry rot, it had to be bulldozed. But that left a lovely little lot for the Christmas House, and Mayor Richards talked the owner into donating it as a tax write-off.”

  “It helped that the owner was Mayor Richards’ mother-in-law,” Beth explained, “so it wasn’t too difficult to talk her into it.”

  Krista laughed. “Already, I’m feeling like I really do live in a small town—and I like it.”

  “Where did you move from?” Beth asked.

  “Phoenix.”

  Beth began to interview Krista, asking professional as well as personal questions, and by the time the house was being eased onto the readied lot, she appeared to have accumulated enough information for a fairly comprehensive article.

  “You really did kill two birds with one stone,” Krista told Beth as Anna and Emily got back into the cab to watch the house getting settled onto its new foundation.

  “It was pretty cold out there,” Emily said.

  “I’ll give you my coat.” Krista started to pull off her jacket.

  “That’s okay,” Anna told her. “We’ve got an extra blanket. I’ll wrap her up in it.”

  “Is it going to snow tonight?” Emily asked.

  Conner laughed. “I hope not. No snow in this week’s forecast. Although we’ve had snow before Thanksgiving in the past.”

  “One time we had snow on Halloween,” Anna said. “Trick-or-treating was no fun that year.”

  “I’ve never seen snow before at all—not ever,” Emily said longingly. “And I thought we were gonna have a real backyard here, and I wanted to build a real snowman. But our apartment doesn’t have any yard.”

  “Maybe you’ll win the Christmas House,” Anna told her.

  “Win a house?” Emily asked with wonder. “How do you win a house?”

  “It’s part of the Christmasville celebration,” Beth explained. “The city is going to give away the house.”

  “The whole house?” Emily asked. “For real?”

  “Is it a raffle?” Krista asked.

  “No, it’s a contest,” Beth explained. “People are invited to write essays.”

  “What’s an essay?” Emily asked.

  “It’s like a story,” Anna said.

  “It’s all in the newspaper. We’ve been covering all the details and how to submit it.” She pointed out the window to where the men were working on the house. “But I need to get some photos of this.”

  “And I need to check on something.” Conner opened the door.

  Before getting out, Beth turned to Krista. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you. Do you mind if I call you tomorrow? I’d like to get a good photo of you for this week’s paper. And I have some more questions.”

  “That’d be great.” Krista smiled. “Just call City Hall and ask for me.”

  Beth promised to do that, then she and Conner hurried over to get a better look at the house-moving operation.

  “I wish I could win that house,” Emily said wistfully.

  Krista checked her watch. “You know, tomorrow is a school day.” She turned to look at Emily. “And it’s past your bedtime.” She looked at Anna. “And I’m sure your dad has more things to attend to here. But our apartment is only a few blocks away. I think Emily and I should just walk home.” She asked Anna to thank her dad and explain their need to go home and then they left.

  Krista held Emily’s hand as they hurriedly walked the few blocks, going past the school, and finally arriving at the apartment. “It really is cold here,” Krista admitted as she unlocked the door. “We might need to get even more winter clothes.” She’d ordered a few things online in Phoenix, but suddenly the idea of long underwear was extremely appealing.

  “It’s cold, but I like it.” Emily sounded tired as they went inside. “I love Winter Hill and I love our new friends. And I can’t wait until Christmasville. I’m really, really glad we came here, Mama. This really is a big adventure, isn’t it?”

  Krista agreed that it was an adventure as she helped Emily get ready for bed. Tucking her in with some extra blankets and wondering if the heating system in the apartment even worked, Krista tried to reflect her daughter’s enthusiasm for their new life in Winter Hill. And she spoke positively about the new school Emily would be enrolled in tomorrow. But as she listened to Emily’s bedtime prayer, Krista felt a stab to her heart.

  “Please, dear God,” Emily prayed after asking God to bless all their newly made friends, “please, please, let us win the Christmas House. We really need a house like that. A real house. Please, help us to win it. Thank you. Amen.”

  Krista had to hold her peace as she kissed Emily good night. She didn’t want to thwart her daughter’s childlike faith, but she didn’t like that Emily had asked God to give them the Christmas House. A prayer like that could only lead to disappointment. Krista had experienced plenty of that kind of disillusionment when she was Emily’s age. Somehow she would have to gently discourage her daughter, to lovingly prepare her for the reality that not all prayers get answered . . . not all dreams come true.

  Krista tried not to think about her own dismal childhood as she paced back and forth in the plain and overly crowded apartment. Abandoned shortly after her birth but not “adoptable,” she’d lived in numerous foster homes. Some good, some not so much. She tweaked the thermostat again, turning it up to ninety degrees in hopes that it would take the chill off the place, then started to unpack the kitchen boxes.

  By the time the lackluster kitchen was somewhat organized, the heating system was finally starting to work. Unfortunately, the warmth radiated from the ceiling—her head was warm, but her feet were like ice. The idea of spending the whole winter in a cold and uncomfortable apartment was disturbing. And six months here? That was downright depressing!

  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all. Besides their disappointing new abode, there was another thought nagging at her. Why hadn’t she done more thorough research? With the various places seeking a city manager, why had she settled so quickly and easily for the one town that appeared to be eternally linked to Christmas?

  Krista pushed a pile of linens aside and, sitting in the corner of her sofa, pulled her chilled feet underneath her and attempted to face her demons. Her Christmas demons. Had she always hated Christmas? She tried to remember a time when she had enjoyed the celebration. But her earliest holiday memories were filled with disappointment after disappointment. It hadn’t helped that her birthday was on Christmas Eve. That was like a double whammy. Not only did her expectations for Christmas get dashed, her birthday was usually forgotten as well. Not much fun for a child.

  By the time she was twelve, Krista pretended to be Jewish around her friends. It was a simple solution for avoiding Christmas altogether. But at fifteen she discovered her own genuine faith at a Christian youth group camp that her foster family had sent her to—probably just to be rid of her for a couple of weeks. After that, although she could celebrate the idea of Jesus’ birthday, she soon learned that history suggested the December 25 date was probably erroneous. It figured. And she secretly suspected that Jesus probably wasn’t a big fan of all the hullabaloo and commercialism that surrounded the rather confusing holiday either.

  Unfortunately, her Christmas memories didn’t improve much in adulthood. Sometimes she wondered if she’d somehow attracted these disappointments—like a seasonal curse. One year, she’d been in a car wreck at Christmastime. Another year she’d had a horrible case of flu. When she and Garth married she’d been relieved to learn that he wasn’t overly fond of Christmas either. And when Emily came along, they kept it low-key . . . until she began to ask for more.

  But then, when Emily was five, Krista had discovered that Garth was having an affair . . . just days before Christmas. A year later, at Christmastime, their divorce was finalized. And last Christmas, just one year ago, Garth had remarried. Now she was going to live in Christmasville. Merry Christmas.

  3

  Krista’s frame of mind was somewhat improved in the morning. A relatively good night’s sleep in her own bed, followed by pancakes, canned applesauce, and Emily’s brightly shining face, bolstered her spirits. Maybe this move hadn’t been a mistake.

  “I’m sorry we don’t have milk or eggs,” Krista said as she rinsed their dishes. “I’ll pick some things up after work today.”

  “What time do you get done with your work, Mama?”

  “Five o’clock.” Krista forced a smile. She hated that Emily had to endure such long days, but this was how it had always been. Emily was used to it. “Remember I told you that there’s an after-school program at your school—I’ll pick you up there. Probably by five-thirty at the latest.”

  Emily peered out the living room window as she tugged on her parka. “It didn’t snow yet.”

  “Be patient. I’m sure it will come.” Krista checked herself in the mirror still leaning against the wall by the front door. She’d worn her best business suit—a dark teal blue that she’d been told brought out the color of her eyes. She smoothed her hair, which she’d pinned into a tight French twist. Her natural color was what she’d always called “dirty blonde,” but her hairdresser claimed was really “honey-gold.” Maybe . . . after highlights were added. Although they only showed up when her mid-length hair fell loose over her shoulders. For today’s first impression, she didn’t care about highlights. She wanted to look buttoned-up and professional. She’d even packed her fake dark-rimmed glasses in her faux Birkin bag. Just in case. As a petite younger woman, she’d learned long ago that she needed to present herself as authoritative and capable. Hopefully she’d be able to lighten up her appearance later on down the line.

  Krista pulled on the long black wool coat she’d purchased online. “It’s so strange to wear these winter coats.” She wrapped a soft blue scarf around her neck. “So different from Phoenix.”

  “I like it.” Emily tugged on her new mittens. “It’s like living in a picture book. All we need is the snow.”

  Krista chuckled at the mittens as she helped Emily with her backpack. “I’ll bet the day will come when you’ll be sick of snow, honey.”

  “No way.” Emily firmly shook her head.

  “You’ll have to eat the school lunch today,” Krista told Emily as they went outside, where the sun was shining brightly but the air was crisp and cold. “And we won’t always have to walk everywhere. I’ll look into getting us a car. As soon as I can.”

  “If we get a car, we can go to Comet’s,” Emily declared.

  They chatted pleasantly as they walked, Emily pointing out each new point of interest along the way, until the school came into sight.

  Krista studied the older building, wondering what it would feel like to go to such a small school. Emily’s old school had more than six hundred students. “Well, here it is. Roosevelt Elementary School. What do you think, Em?”

  “I like it.” But she looked slightly nervous. “I just hope I make a friend today. I’ve been praying for a BFF. Kind of like Olivia back in Phoenix. But she never was a real BFF. Sometimes she was mean.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll make plenty of friends here,” Krista assured her. “But remember a best friend takes time.” Krista didn’t want to admit—not yet anyway—that she’d never had a real BFF herself.