Noel Butler crouched in the new bell tower on the recently restored roof of the quaint St. John’s Cathedral, ignoring the cramped quarters. He’d certainly experienced worse during his army days. Still, he kept a firm grip on a nearby support beam with one gloved hand while he gingerly twisted his ratchet back and forth with the other, his progress illuminated by the lights beaming down from the rafters above. A few fat, fluffy flakes drifted through the openings of the belfry—the beginnings of a storm he’d been sure would come, despite the low probability in the forecast. The Santa Claus Parade would begin in thirty minutes, and the weather was almost up to freezing. Of course it was going to snow.

But he hadn’t foreseen hauling himself onto a church roof to repair a bell that hadn’t even officially made its debut. Thankfully, the fix had been as simple as he’d hoped—a loose bolt on the small motor secured to the floor had caused the tension to slack off on the belt that moved the metal hammer-like striker. At least, he prayed that’s all that was wrong.

Once the bolt had been snugged tight, he stood and leaned through the opening of the small belfry, keeping a tight grip on the frame with both hands as he hollered at the short man in the grey parka standing in front of the church below.

“Try it now, reverend!”

“Yes, okay,” Reverend Adelike Olowe said in his strongly accented English, the pompom on top of his toque bobbing as he nodded. “Are you sure you’re okay up there?”

Noel gave a thumbs up, suppressing an eye roll—and a twinge of guilt. When the reverend had called him, he’d been nearby and had most of the tools he’d needed in his truck . . . except his roofing harness. The pitch of the roof was steep, but the asphalt tiles were still ice-free. Since he had his roofing boots with him, he decided to take a look and assess the situation. Driving to the shop on the other side of town just to grab his harness seemed like a waste of time. But he supposed it was understandable that the minister might worry, however unwarranted. He was fine.

The squat man nodded before disappearing from view beneath the roof overhang. Seconds later, the church door squeaked and slammed.

Noel pulled the fleece liner on his hard hat a little lower over his ears, wishing he’d been able to grow his springy black curls enough to give him a little more insulation before it had gotten cold. In truth, every time he grew his hair long, he got annoyed with how much work it was and shaved his head again, which meant winter headgear was a necessity from early in the season. Didn’t mean he would have passed up the ability to grow an instant Afro between sweltering August and frigid November if God had seen fit to grant him that superpower.

You know what would be a cool superpower? Being able to make fireballs with my hands. Then I wouldn’t be freezing my digits off up here.

Or superstrength. Because, c’mon. It’s superstrength.

How long does it take to push a button, anyway?

He sighed, bouncing his knees to get his blood flowing and ward off the early December chill, his back to the three-foot-tall refurbished cast bronze bell he’d installed earlier in the week. Up here on the roof of the historic Anglican cathedral, there was no hiding from the biting wind that shot down the Peace River valley like a luge and turned the snow into stinging pellets against his skin.

This was hardly the time of year for this type of work. Of course, it should have been finished weeks ago. When Derrick had taken the contract, there had been plenty of time left before winter. But the delivery of the bell had been delayed, which had left Noel in a bind, rushing to finish the project before winter arrived in earnest—and before the Peace Crossing Christmas season started up.

Across the street in Riverside Park, sheltered somewhat by the dike and evergreen trees, families milled beneath the orange street lights, setting up lawn chairs along the freshly cleared sidewalks. The parade always wrapped up with a tree lighting event in the park, and crowds were gathering in preparation. Not even the snow and the stiff breeze could keep Peace Crossing-ites away tonight.

Noel didn’t bother looking for the group he was supposed to meet when he finished here—Caleb had said he, Delanie, and Emma would set up near the other end of the parade route outside of Cool Beans. Noel had been disappointed that he wouldn’t get to see the grand finale from there, but he figured it was more important to spend time with his friends than witness every tree being set ablaze in a splendour of light and colour.

Besides, the coffee shop was staying open late to serve hot chocolate. And after spending a half-hour on this roof in below-freezing temperatures and the beginnings of a snow flurry, Noel thought hot chocolate sounded like a stellar idea. He could always drive by the park later to take in the view.

If he was lucky, he might even run into Stephanie Neufeld tonight. Though she mostly worked at the hospital, the pretty brunette sometimes helped her sister out in the coffee shop for special events like this. He knew, because she’d told him so at the community Christmas party three years, eleven months, and ten days ago, and he’d seen her there a few times since. He’d only gone in for coffee, of course. Cool Beans was one of exactly two coffee shops in this town, so of course he went there sometimes. And sometimes, she was there too.

At the memory of that epic night at the party that had nearly ended in so much tragedy, he frowned. That night could have been game over for him and his sister both. Instead, it had been the reason he’d started turning everything around. Reflexively, he stuck his hand in his pocket and fingered his sobriety chip. He’d be earning another one soon.

That didn’t mean he was ready to tempt fate by getting romantically involved with anyone again. Some old habits died way too hard, and he didn’t want to hurt anyone else. He’d already callously handled enough hearts to last two lifetimes.

Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a cute smile once in a while.

A familiar woman pushing a wheelchair along the sidewalk below caught his eye. She wore a quilted white parka and white cable-knit cap over long strawberry-blond curls he would know anywhere.

Madeleine Kennedy.

Maddie looked both ways along the street, then stepped onto the blocked-off River Road to cross to the park. The woman in the wheelchair was bundled in winter clothing, a brightly coloured blanket across her legs.

Seeing Maddie triggered a knee-jerk rush of heat in his veins and a tightening in Noel’s gut. He felt bad for Maddie’s mom—his own mom had told him Rose Kennedy’s multiple sclerosis had advanced to the point where she was now wheelchair-bound. Violet and Rose had called themselves the “Flower Girls” back in school, and their friendship had never died. But Noel and Maddie hadn’t spoken in years, though he’d seen her around town on occasion since graduation. She was even lovelier than when they’d dated in high school. A little more hardened, maybe. He regretted his part in that—but then again, he was harder too.

Harder, but not unhappy. He’d long since decided he was better off alone—which was why he was spending one of his favourite annual events with his twitterpated friends instead of bringing someone special of his own.

He frowned and turned away. Maybe it would be best if he didn’t run into Stephanie tonight. Seeing Maddie had reminded him of why he’d never let his relationship with Steph get anywhere, no matter how well they’d hit it off at that party. There were too many unknowns when it came to love. The only sure way to protect himself from disappointment was not to let himself be vulnerable in the first place. Maddie had taught him that. And he’d passed that same lesson on to far too many others—which was why he’d officially taken dating off the table. Not only did he not trust his heart to anyone, he was pretty sure he couldn’t be trusted with anyone else’s.

Noel glanced back across the street in time to see Maddie’s gaze skip away from him as though she didn’t want him to know she’d been looking directly at him seconds earlier. He watched her for a moment in case she looked back to show her that he, at least, wasn’t going to look away. But she studiously ignored him, and he finally glanced away in annoyance. Yep, avoiding Stephanie was definitely for the best.

He looked over his shoulder at the silent bell. The reverend had to have gotten to the switch by now, which meant the bell must not be working yet. Maybe there was a problem at the electrical panel inside. He could call Caleb to take a look so he could get an electrician’s input. At this rate, he’d miss the whole parade anyway. Which would give him a built-in excuse to just head home when he was done and avoid Cool Beans—and temptation—altogether.

“Not sure if I’m grumpy you decided not to do your job at the last minute or not now,” he muttered at the uncooperative bell.

The bell had rung perfectly well when he’d tested it Tuesday morning. He’d already left a message for the bell company consultant, but since Ohio was several time zones ahead of Alberta, Noel probably wouldn’t hear from Molly until at least tomorrow, maybe even Monday. Maybe he should call Caleb. He knew his friend would be happy to help, and Caleb was only a few minutes away . . .

Nah. He could handle this. As long as his fingers didn’t freeze into icicles while he waited. Maybe he should go inside and find out what was going on . . . but despite how good his boots were, he didn’t want to be climbing up and down this roof without safety gear any more than necessary. He decided to wait a few more minutes.

When Reverend Olowe had called to tell him that the new bell wasn’t working, Noel had assured the distressed minister that he would definitely have it fixed before the parade. Its first official chime would be in sync with the lighting of the trees in the park across the road—a significant celebratory event the good reverend obviously felt strongly about, despite only having lived in Peace Crossing for the past three years. Noel understood. There was something about the community that made people want to participate and give back. Which was probably why the congregation of one of the oldest churches in town had decided to add a bell tower to their aging cathedral while doing roof repairs in the first place. It was hard to deny the special charm of hearing church bells ringing out over the snow on a winter night. Noel smiled at the thought of it. He hadn’t thought it was possible to make Christmas better, but this bell might do just that.

While he waited, he started another visual sweep of the bell and striker setup, just to make sure he hadn’t missed any other problems. Maybe there was a loose wire? Until he knew the reverend had tried to ring the bell and failed, though, he wasn’t about to do a manual check of the belt or striker apparatus. The last thing he needed was to get injured while doing this. Derrick would never let him hear the end of it . . . and Noel liked his hands, numb as they currently were.

His phone vibrated against his chest. Maybe Reverend Olowe was calling from inside, which probably meant he’d tried to ring the bell with no result.

Rats.

Noel glanced at his smart watch to check the caller ID before answering, but it wasn’t the minister calling. The display read Jared Larson, and Noel’s guard went up.

Normally on a Friday night, Noel would be helping Jared run the youth group at Peace Crossing Christian Assembly. His friend had stepped in as interim youth pastor there a few months ago, despite also working a full-time job at the local boys’ group home. When Jared had asked Noel to split the huge time commitment, Noel had reluctantly agreed. To his surprise, he’d discovered he enjoyed working with the teens.

Still, he sometimes wondered if his and Jared’s roles should be reversed—Jared had an incredible heart the kids responded to, but he lacked the decisiveness the group needed. Noel would have taken over long ago if he hadn’t been so busy with work projects and making sets for the local kids’ musical earlier in the fall. But once the play had wrapped up, he’d made it to every Friday youth event. And, more and more, he found that having to prop up Jared’s scatter-brained leadership rankled. The guy was so disorganized, Noel sometimes wondered how he managed to function as an adult.

Jared had said tonight would be free so kids could watch the parade with their families, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t calling to have Noel help him solve some other minor crisis. Normally, Noel would love to jump in and troubleshoot, but he was kind of busy at the moment.

And also kind of not.

Steeling himself, he touched the button on his ear piece to answer the call.

“Hey, Jared. Everything good?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” Jared said, and Noel relaxed. “I’m over at Riverside Park. Is that you freezing your cheeks off on top of the Anglican church?”

Relieved, Noel laughed and squinted across the street to the people setting up camp chairs in the snow under the street lights. Sure enough, there was Jared, waving at Noel from the sidewalk. He was only several people over from Madeleine Kennedy.

“Yeah, you got me.” He waved back.

Jared chuckled and let his arm drop. “Don’t you ever stop working? When the scaffolding came down from the church earlier this week, I thought you were finished that job.”

“I did, too. Then Reverend Olowe called me in a panic this afternoon, saying he’d tested the bell again and nothing happened. So I’m here doing warranty work. Can’t have the guest of honour be late to her first outing.” Noel glanced over his shoulder at the bell, which still taunted him with its silence. “And it looks like she’s still being stubborn. I better go down and see what’s happening.” He swung his leg through the arched belfry opening, steadying himself with a hand on the frame until he was certain he’d found his balance on the roof.

“Hey, quick question before you go,” Jared said. “Did you get a hold of the Andersons about the sleigh ride?”

Noel paused, keeping his grip on the tower.

“Yeah, I talked to Heath earlier today but got distracted by the bell issue. He said his parents were happy to be on board. Said there would be no charge. We’re booked in for two weeks from tomorrow.”

“They’re doing it for free? That’s nice of them.”

Noel smirked. He’d fully expected as much from that family. The Andersons owned a ranch not too far out of town where they raised draft and quarter horses and gave occasional old-fashioned sleigh rides in the winter. When Noel had called his old friend Heath to ask for his parents’ number, Heath had voluntarily arranged a sleigh ride event for the youth group instead. And, Noel was pretty sure, it was actually Heath who was covering the cost, though the architect hadn’t said it outright. His parents were generous, but the last few years had been tough on everyone, and Heath was the type to sneak one like that in to help his parents and the youth group out at the same time.

Noel resumed his progress toward the ladder while he talked. Leaning back, he kept his core engaged and arms held out for balance while he carefully scooched down the steep roof.

“Paul and Brenda are nice people,” he agreed. “But, uh, maybe don’t mention the ‘free’ bit to them.”

“Ah. Will do.”

Jared was no dummy.

A teenage boy’s excited voice seeped through the line. “Do we get to go on a sleigh ride?”

“Yes, Trevor,” Jared said, a smile audible in his muffled voice. “In two weeks.”

“Cool!”

Noel glanced across the street again and saw round-faced fourteen-year-old Trevor Harris, an Indigenous kid who used to live at the group home where Jared worked, standing between Jared and Trevor’s adoptive dad, Gary. Gary’s wife, Lou, sat wrapped in a warm blanket on a chair next to her husband, chatting with Rose Kennedy, who sat on her other side. Gary and Lou’s older two boys—also former foster kids from the group home—must have been elsewhere, because Noel was certain he’d have been able to pick out Byron’s lanky height and Lionel’s barrel-chested bulk if they’d been with their family. As a senior, Byron was too busy with work and other activities to come to youth group much, but Lionel and Trevor were regulars. And at last week’s event, Noel had discovered that he and Trevor shared a mutual love for Christmas—Trevor’s very much inspired by his adoptive parents.

“Say hi to Trevor for me,” Noel said, his attention on his footing, “and Gary and Lou, too.”

“Will do.” Jared’s voice became muffled as he passed the greeting along. “They say hi back.”

Noel grinned. He probably shouldn’t have favourites among the youth group kids, but he did, and Trevor was one of them. The kid had a soft heart and a tenderness that his difficult upbringing hadn’t managed to strip from him.

Ryker Dyck’s pale, gaunt face and shock of black hair flashed into his mind—the youth group’s most recent addition, along with his twin sister, Ryleigh. Ryker was another foster kid who’d found a special place in Noel’s heart. He couldn’t help hoping he and his sister got a similar happy ending to Trevor’s, especially after the twins’ recent separation. They’d certainly experienced enough tragedy already.

Reaching the aluminum extension ladder, Noel grasped the posts in relief. He swung himself onto the rungs with the confidence of long practice, carefully balancing his weight to keep the ladder steady. The snowy ground was a good twenty feet below, but he’d climbed up and down so many ladders, he barely had to think about how to do it safely. The hard part was behind him now.

“I better let you get back to work,” Jared said. “Unless, of course, you—”

Jared’s words were drowned out by an ear-splitting clang from the bell. Noel jumped. The ladder trembled in response, and his foot slipped off the icy rung. He tried to break his fall with his grip on the ladder rails, but his stiff fingers lost their grip. He twisted in the air to minimize injury as he’d learned during his long-ago karate lessons, but as he hit the ground, his leg folded under him with a crack and he gave an involuntary yell—or he would have, if all the breath hadn’t been evicted from his body. He lay gasping for air, staring up at the starry sky, barely registering Jared’s alarmed voice in his ear piece before the line beeped and went silent.

As soon as he could draw half a breath, he attempted to push himself upright—then froze when shooting pain seared up his leg and black stars filled his vision. Deciding he needed a minute, he eased himself back onto the snow.

Eons later, Jared’s face came into his field of view, right next to Reverend Olowe’s. Jared was still on the phone, but not with Noel. It sounded like he was talking to emergency services.

Adelike bent over Noel with a worried expression, taking in the length of Noel’s body before focusing on his face.

“How . . . bad . . . is it?” Noel choked out.

“I believe your leg is broken, brother. Lie still. The ambulance should be here soon.”

Noel gave a minute nod, then stared skyward once more, focusing on the cold wetness of thick, wet flakes melting on his exposed skin. The bell tower appeared upside-down in his field of vision, the bell still giving off faint undulating vibrations. He glanced back at the minister.

“I told you . . . I’d fix . . . the bell,” he said through gritted teeth.

Reverend Olowe chuckled, his teeth white against his night-black skin. “You did indeed. Thank you.”

Noel gave another weak nod before the pain made him decide he had nothing else to say.

So much for the parade. He pushed aside his surge of disappointment, closing his eyes to focus on managing his pain through breathing while he waited for the ambulance. He could hear the wailing siren crossing the bridge now.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about running into Stephanie.

That thought comforted him until he was wheeled into the Emergency Room, and the first face he saw approaching his gurney was Stephanie Neufeld’s.

*** What's your first impression of Noel? And what do you think will happen next? Leave me a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts! ***