touching her.
“I loved seeing you interact with my family,” he finally confessed.
“I loved meeting them.” She snuggled closer. “They’re a wonderful bunch, but I felt as if I knew them all already. Pea is a real sweetheart.”
It seemed as if she’d be using Micah’s nickname for Penelope, and Andrew found he didn’t mind. “I hired her in the armory when she was young, and she worked her way up until she became one of my clerks. I was proud of her then, and I’m proud of her now, and I’m very pleased she has made my son so happy.”
“You should be.” As they strolled down Andersen Avenue, she nudged him. “You know, that makes you a matchmaker.”
He hummed, still smiling. “It does, doesn’t it? Maybe I should hang my shingle out. Think your organization would let me join?”
Her chuckle was low and husky. “I think you would definitely be denied, based on certain criteria.”
“Like what?”
“Well, you’re not a woman.”
He scoffed. “That’s silly. A man can be just as nurturing and kind and match-makerly as a woman. Haven’t I proven it?”
“Time and again.”
Her immediate agreement settled his hackles. “Well, if you ever need any help with your current assignment—I know you’re worried about it—please let me know. I would love to be a bigger part of your life, Christa.”
She didn’t respond, and when he glanced over at her, she was frowning down at the snowy road as they walked.
“Christa?”
“You might be right.”
“About helping you?”
When she stopped, he stopped as well, turning to take her hands in his. She tilted her head back to stare up at the stars, her breath puffing in the cold evening air.
“My assignment is Sibyl Miller,” she finally said, then tilted her head down to meet his eyes. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, but I want you to be part of my life too, and that means sharing trouble. So…Sibyl Miller. That’s the girl.”
His heart had leapt—not because of the name she’d given him, because he barely knew the Millers—but because she was trusting him.
Trying to be nonchalant, trying not to show how much the name had meant to him, he cleared his throat. “Isn’t she out of town? I remember someone saying she’d gone to Denver.”
“To visit her sister, yeah.” Christa blew out a breath. “Everyone was expecting me to find a match for her by Christmas, but how can I, if she’s not home?” A yawn interrupted her. “Excuse me, I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Worrying, no doubt?”
She huffed in agreement. “I haven’t even seen Sibyl and Max together, so I can’t move forward. I don’t even know if he knows her.”
Absolutely thrilled she was discussing her concerns with him, Andrew hummed thoughtfully, tucked her hand into the crook of his arm again, and began walking down Andersen Avenue once more. “Presumably, he knows her, since his brother is married to her sister. But you’re right; until you know how he feels about her, you can’t begin your scheme.”
“Scheme, eh?” She chuckled once. “I like it. You’re part of my scheme now too.”
The reminder made his chest feel lighter. “I am indeed, and I’m happy to help you. If Sibyl isn’t here in Everland, and you’re interested in finding her a beau…” Now he was just thinking out loud. “I think the thing to do would be to find out how Max—the potential beau—feels about her. If he’s already half in love with her or something, that would certainly make things easier, wouldn’t it?”
“It sure would,” she agreed with a little yawn. “But I can’t ask him directly.”
“Hmm. Goes against the rules, eh?”
She rolled her eyes, her features lit by the moon. “Who would’ve thought there’d be so many rules to matchmaking? Yeah, I can’t come right out and ask because that would clue him into the plan.”
This organization she was a part of seemed to believe in excessive secretiveness.
“Could I ask him?”
She thought for a moment, and he got the impression she was going over the rules in her head. “I guess you could. But if I were there with you, it’s probably a gray area, so you’d have to remember every detail to tell me later.”
An idea was coming to Andrew. “This matchmaking organization…they know you as Christa and Christmas Harrington, right?”
“Uh…yes?”
“So if Christmas Harrington grilled Max on his feelings for Sibyl, that would be breaking the rules. Or if Christa stood by while I grilled him, that would also be a no-no.”
“A no-no?” she repeated, smiling. “You’re hanging out with the