“I should get back to my work,” Wes stood up.
“Wait. Can you give me any other ideas about how to cut expenses?”
Wes didn’t say anything at first. Frown lines furrowed his brow.
“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. You’ve already helped me so much.”
“It’s not that,” he said. “I’m just not sure you’ll like what I’m going to suggest.”
She pressed her lips firmly together. Saving the company—saving the town—wasn’t going to be easy. She’d known that from the onset, but it was easier thinking of it in broad terms than examining it in detail. But she had to do this—it was so much bigger than herself.
She leveled her shoulders and lifted her chin ever so slightly until her eyes met his. “Tell me what it is and I’ll work on it.”
“Let me ask you a question first.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Is the candle company the sole sponsor for the Candlelight Dance?”
“Yes. We always are. It’s a longstanding tradition.” Where was he going with this? And then the worst thought came to her. “Surely you’re not suggesting we cancel the dance?”
Yes, she’d said she would do whatever it took to keep the company and town afloat, but at the same time, she hadn’t thought it would mean abolishing an institution that had been around longer than she had—longer than her aunt had been.
The Candlelight Dance had been started by her great-great-grandfather when there was nothing else to do in the dark of winter, because there were no other towns close by. He had factory workers to entertain for the holidays. If they left, there was a good possibility they wouldn’t come back to the remote town of Bayberry, which spent much of the winter under snow.
And so with nothing more than a barn, some candles and her great-great-grandfather’s fiddle, the Candlelight Dance had begun. Over the years, the eve
nt had grown and the traditions had expanded. But at the heart of it, the purpose of the dance was still the same—bringing neighbors together to celebrate the holiday.
“I’m not suggesting you cancel it.” His gaze searched hers. “But I am suggesting you modify it.”
She was at last able to take an easy breath. “Modify it how?”
“Your company can no longer afford to pay for everything. Cuts must be made and they must be substantial.”
Kate’s shoulders sagged. “It won’t be much of a dance—”
“Wait. I don’t think you understand. I’m not asking you to eliminate anything. From what I could glean from the financials, there’s quite a lot involved.” When Kate nodded, he said, “All I’m asking is that instead of the company taking on all the responsibility, it’s divvied out to the whole town.”
“You want me to ask everyone for help?”
“Sure. They can all chip in.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because…because it’s never been done that way. It’s all about tradition. And…and I just can’t let everyone down.” Perhaps she was more like her aunt, who insisted on routines, than Kate had ever thought.
“You won’t let anyone down. That’s the beauty of it. Instead of taking on everything yourself, you’ll be asking the town to take part in the preparation. Then the dance will truly become a community event.”
“I don’t know.” Would people be willing to step up and help out? It had never been done before.
“Will you at least consider it?”
She nodded slowly. What would it hurt to propose the idea? After all, she had said she would do anything to save Bayberry. This appeared to be anything. “I’ll need to figure out the details.”
“While you do, I have some more reports to go over. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Just before he walked out of sight, she remembered to say, “Thank you, Wes.”
He glanced back. “Sorry if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.”