Home to Chestnut Grove Read online

  Home to Chestnut Grove

  a Christmas novella

  Christy Barritt

  Copyright © 2019 by Christy Barritt

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Stunning Book Covers.

  Note: Though there is a historical community called Chestnut Grove in Virginia, the town of Chestnut Grove in this book is fictional.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Bonus Recipes

  Chestnut Vanilla Latte

  Chestnut Soup

  Complete Book List

  About the Author

  Prologue

  “This might be my last Christmas in Chestnut Grove for a while.” Faith Winters stared up into the warm brown eyes of the only man she would ever love, her heart pounding uncontrollably. The possibility of change left her both exhilarated and frightened. She hadn’t left yet, and her heart already longed for home.

  Jake Whitmore wrapped his arms around Faith’s waist as the crisp nighttime air beckoned them to step closer. “You know nothing is going to keep you away from this place. This town is in your blood, and you’re a part of it. And these people? They’re family. That will never change.”

  Faith’s thoughts hung so heavy with the “what ifs” that she wasn’t fully enjoying her favorite night of the year. The festivities around her disappeared momentarily as this conversation took centerstage in her mind. She and Jake had put it off for too long.

  “I’m graduating from college in May.” Faith’s voice sounded hoarse with emotion. “With my internship, I should be established in New York by then. Who knows what December is going to look like next year?”

  “It’s going to look like chestnut blitzes and Tony Awards.”

  “Chestnut blitzes?” Her lips curved in a smile.

  “You know you’ll always have a lifetime supply of them. You’re chestnut royalty.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Chestnut royalty? I suppose I’ve been called worse.”

  “I doubt it. I’ve never heard anyone say one bad word about you. And that’s a good thing, because if they did I’d definitely have to set them straight, let them know you’re the finest woman I’ve ever met.”

  Her insides warmed at his words. Faith knew without a doubt that he would always defend her. “And a Tony Award? I’m glad you believe in me.”

  His voice softened. “I’ll always believe in you, Faith.”

  Her throat tightened as she realized how things were going to change. Would they ever be the same once she left this place? Was she making a huge mistake?

  After all, no one knew how to do Christmas like this town. Her dad was here. Jake. Jenny.

  But in two weeks, she’d leave to do an internship at the Brolin Theater in New York. Afterward, she’d officially graduate college and begin auditioning, begin pursing her goal of becoming a Broadway actress. She was hoping and praying she’d find her big break.

  Faith pulled in a deep breath, trying to hold herself together. Her emotions desperately wanted to get the best of her. She wanted more than anything to enjoy this special evening with Jake.

  The scent of roasting chestnuts floated in the air around them, the aroma always soothing. The smell reminded her so much of home. Joyful chatter sounded as the community mingled in the historic downtown. People from all over the area had gathered here tonight to watch the annual lighting of the Christmas tree at the town square.

  Everyone was nestled in their winter coats and scarves, and the Virginia mountains surrounded them as if they wanted to join in the celebration.

  But Faith’s thoughts were still on the change the future might hold for her and Jake. She couldn’t shake her worries, couldn’t shake her premature homesickness.

  “What are we going to do next Christmas?” Faith’s voice sounded scratchier than she’d like.

  Jake tilted his head, still peering down at her with affection in his gaze. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged. “I mean, will you come to New York? Will I come here? What are our lives going to look like? How are we going to make this work?”

  Up until now, the picture had been clear. Faith’s whole world had revolved around Jake, Jenny, and Chestnut Grove. But college would soon be over, and it was time for her to spread her wings. She’d been waiting her whole life to do so.

  “I don’t know.” Some of the light left Jake’s gaze as he brushed a hand across her cheek. “We’ll have to play it by ear. But I just assumed you’d come here and see your dad. Christmas is meant to be spent at home with loved ones gathered around crackling fires, exchanging gifts and reading about Baby Jesus.”

  Ordinarily, Faith would agree 100 percent. But . . . “What if I’m cast in a play? What then?”

  “Then you’ll make time for what’s important. I know you will. You’re Faith Winters, Little Miss Chestnut Grove and the poster girl for our world-famous chestnut blitzes.” He sang a little jingle, the same one Faith had sung and danced to in commercial advertisements as a child.

  Putting on the Ritz with chestnut blitz,

  Delight in every bite,

  It’s the taste that never quits.

  “Maybe you should take up singing,” she teased.

  Jake chuckled. “Never. I’ll leave that to you and Jenny. You know she’s your number one fan. She always has been and always will be.”

  “Everyone needs a number one fan.”

  He raised one shoulder, a teasing gleam to his eyes. “I’d like to think that I’m that person also, that you can have two number one fans.”

  “That’s a contradiction, isn’t it? By law, there’s only one number one spot.”

  Before Jake could respond, Faith reached up on her tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his lips. She felt like the luckiest girl in the whole world to have someone like Jake Whitmore at her side.

  She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small wrapped gift. “For you.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t realize we were exchanging gifts.”

  “I just wanted you to have this one right now. Open it.” She grinned as she anticipated his reaction.

  Carefully, he opened the folds until some red socks came into view. His eyebrows scrunched together as he lifted his gift for a better look. As he spotted Faith’s face floating on the otherwise solid background, he let out a chuckle.

  “Oh, Faith. I love it.”

  Her grin widened. “I know you love your crazy socks, so I thought I’d give you something to ensure you didn’t forget me.”

  “I’ll wear them every day.” He winked.

  “Please don’t.” Her laugh died as she looked up into his eyes. Her voice turned to a whisper as she said, “Thank you for always believing the best of me.”

  “I have all the faith in the world in you.”

  Faith hated the fact that soon they wouldn’t be able to see each other often. She wanted to believe that anythi
ng was possible and that true love conquered all. But when she looked at the reality of living five hours apart . . . it seemed so daunting. She was going to miss Jake so much, and she secretly hoped he might move to New York City to be with her.

  Someone clucked disapprovingly beside them. Faith and Jake turned and saw Mr. Foggerty standing there. The tall, gangly senior citizen was also the town grump and seemed to have the proverbial dark cloud floating over his head at all times.

  “You two, don’t forget that PDA puts you on Santa’s naughty list,” he muttered with a scowl. “You don’t want to get coal for Christmas.”

  “Oh, you leave them alone,” another voice said—this one higher pitched and sweeter.

  Ms. Gingham. In olden days, the woman would have been called a spinster. Here in Chestnut Grove, she was an adopted grandmother to many and one of the kindest people you could ever meet.

  She whisked the old geezer away with a playful wave of her hand.

  “You ignore him,” she said to Faith and Jake. “It’s good to see young love. He’s just jealous.”

  As Mr. Foggerty began to heckle her, Ms. Gingham raised her finger in reprimand and chased behind him, not holding back her thoughts about his negativity.

  Jake turned back to Faith, and his smile faded. “So . . . I heard Todd Stephens is going to retire as sheriff next September. I’m thinking about running.”

  Faith’s heart leapt into her throat at Jake’s announcement. She hadn’t heard any of this yet. Then again, she’d been away at college and . . . “That’s what you’ve always wanted. I think that’s great, Jake.”

  He nodded, excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, me too. I’m working security at your dad’s factory now, but I’d like to do something a little bigger, you know. There’s something I love about the idea of being this town’s protector.”

  “You’d be great at it. You’re a natural.” He certainly always made Faith feel protected.

  His smile faded. “You think your dad will forgive me if I don’t work for him?”

  “Of course he will. He’d want you to do what makes you happy.”

  “Hey, guys.” Faith’s best friend, Jenny Whitmore, joined them, putting a friendly arm on each of their shoulders as she nudged her way between them. “Whatcha doing, you two?”

  “Just enjoying the festivities,” Jake said, playfully poking his sister in her side. “What are you doing? Staying out of trouble, I hope.”

  “Looking for you two. You guys want some roasted chestnuts? Franny Jones has the best, and Lucy offered to give me some at a discount just because I’m a bright spot in her day. It pays to be a ray of sunshine for people.”

  Jenny was definitely a ray of sunshine. She always smiled, always sang, always saw the best in people.

  “I’d love some,” Faith said, salivating at the thought of some of Franny’s chestnuts.

  “I’ll grab some, but only because I like you two.” Jenny stepped back but paused. “You know, you two are the best friends a girl could have. Never forget that.”

  Faith grinned at Jenny’s sincere words—but she had to contradict her friend. “We won’t. But I think you two—” Faith pointed at Jake and Jenny—“are the best friends a girl could have.”

  “I guess we’re all just the best,” Jenny said with an easy-going shrug. “We should thank God every day that He brought us together, right?”

  Jake and Faith smiled.

  “Yes, we should,” Jake said.

  Jenny spotted her friend Timmy in the distance and called to him before running his way. It was hit-or-miss as to whether or not Jake and Faith would actually get those chestnuts from Jenny now.

  As Jenny departed, Jake turned to Faith. “She’s really going to miss you, you know.”

  “I’ll miss her too. Everything is going to change, isn’t it?” A tear trickled down Faith’s cheek. She’d been holding back the emotion, but now it came swiftly.

  Jake tenderly wiped away the moisture with the back of his finger. “No, it will just be where you’re living that’s different. That’s all. Nothing else has to change.”

  That was right. Nothing had to change. Faith desperately wanted to hold on to that promise.

  Behind them, a cheer rose. Faith and Jake turned in time to see the lights on the massive Christmas tree brighten with sparkling color. Together, the town started singing their unofficial anthem—“Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.” The town lived out the definition of those lyrics, all the way from the Yuletide choir to folks being dressed like Eskimos.

  Faith and Jake joined in. With Jake’s arm around her waist, Faith closed her eyes. She never wanted to forget this moment, and she prayed that she’d have many more just like these to come.

  1

  Three Years Later

  Faith Winters paused on the little sidewalk that meandered toward the quaint inn. The porch on the three-story white Victorian extended like outstretched arms. But, at any minute, she expected those arms to retract as if an enemy approached.

  Her hands trembled on her suitcase handle as she stood there, snowflakes catching on her eyelashes.

  Whoever said it was never too late to come home was wrong. Dead wrong.

  Faith gripped the handle tighter, frozen where she stood. Something about the inn had changed since Faith had last been here. The whole place was like a beautiful woman who’d aged and forgotten to take care of herself in the process. The fine details told the story—the peeling paint. A sagging gutter. A crooked shutter.

  Faith swallowed hard and knew she couldn’t stand here forever.

  Her heels crunched against the sidewalk as she pulled her bright red suitcase behind her. She climbed the steps, her feet clacking against the wood boards. After a moment of hesitation, she rang the doorbell.

  Her lungs tightened as she waited. Waited. Waited.

  Finally, the door opened, and Emmajean Gingham stood there. The elderly woman hadn’t changed in the three years since Faith had seen her. She still had an ample matronly figure, a poof of gray hair around her face, and a warm smile.

  The woman’s eyes widened, and she clasped her hands together in front of her as Faith came into view. Sugary sweetness—the real kind of sugar, not an artificial substitute—wafted from the woman like the scent of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.

  “Faith Winters,” Ms. Gingham whispered. “You’re here. In Chestnut Grove.”

  Faith waited for the woman’s kind demeanor to change into reprimand. Instead, Ms. Gingham threw her arms around Faith. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon swept around Faith, pulling her back to another time. A happier time.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Ms. Gingham muttered, her warm breath tickling Faith’s ear. “So, so good to have you back, my dear.”

  Tears pressed at Faith’s eyes. It wasn’t the welcome she’d expected or deserved. But she was grateful for the kind greeting that hinted that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

  “Come on in out of the cold.” Ms. Gingham bustled her inside and shut the door.

  Faith’s gaze swept the interior. The whole place was decorated for Christmas—from the evergreen on the doorframes, windowsills, and bannister to the themed-out trees. A fire crackled in the sitting room to her left, and the whole place smelled like potpourri.

  Before Faith realized what was happening, Ms. Gingham took her coat and handed her some hot chocolate. Faith wasn’t sure where the drink had come from, but she took it anyway.

  “You need a room, don’t you?” Ms. Gingham batted her eyelashes with anticipation, almost as if she’d been waiting for a guest to show up.

  “If there’s one open.”

  A smile lit Ms. Gingham’s wrinkled face. “I have the perfect one for you. But drink up. It’s cold out there. We can’t have Jack Frost nipping at you.”

  Faith took a sip of her peppermint-infused hot chocolate. The taste was heavenly. She hadn’t consumed any sugar in two years, but right now she didn’t care.

  “Yo
u look so wonderful. How’s New York treating you?”

  “It’s . . . well, it’s certainly different from Chestnut Grove.”

  “I hear it’s the city that never sleeps. Speaking of sleep, you look like you could use a good rest.”

  Had the stress of the past several months finally taken their toll on Faith? That’s how it felt. She’d suspected her eyes were now dull and her skin washed of color. Even her hair felt limp. Losing a best friend could do that to a person.

  “I suppose I could use some downtime,” Faith admitted.

  Ms. Gingham waved a hand in the air. “Then let me show you to your room. I’ll put you in the Hazelnut Haven suite. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds . . . perfect.”

  Placing a hand on Faith’s arm, Ms. Gingham walked with Faith up the stairs. She stopped at the last room down the hallway, and Faith’s eyes widened. The suite was decorated with warm green walls and walnut-colored furniture. A skinny Christmas tree stretched toward the ceiling in the corner and a wooden manger scene sat on the dresser.

  “It’s wonderful,” Faith murmured.

  Ms. Gingham beamed. “I thought you would like it. It’s my favorite. Anyway, I’ll let you get rested and settled. But I’d be honored if you’d join me for dinner tonight. It’s roast beef and mashed potatoes. I even made yeast rolls—your mom’s recipe.”

  The menu sounded heavenly and like the perfect Rx for the start of some soul nourishment. But . . . “I have a meeting at four.”

  “We can eat at six thirty. How would that work?”

  That would give Faith just enough time to get a few things done first. “I’d . . . love that.”