A Match Made at Christmas - Courtney Walsh Page 0,22

someone else out there for you?” Pru asked him now.

Howie’s face was weather-worn and leathery. His blue eyes still shone bright, and while she knew he was in his early sixties, she also knew he had a big heart and a lot of love yet to give.

He popped a French fry in his mouth and chewed. “Maybe it’s crossed my mind.”

“Yeah?” She grinned. “You know what they say about Christmas in Nantucket.”

He frowned. “It’s cold?”

“It’s magical,” she said. “Maybe you’ll meet someone at the Stroll.”

He shook his head. “How’d we get to talking about me, Pru? We should be devising a plan to get that boy to realize what we already know.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“That you are the best thing that’s ever happened to him.” Howie waggled his eyebrows.

“Promise me you will not say a word, Howie,” she said. “This is the one time you don’t know better than me.”

He took a bite of his sandwich, then swiped his napkin across his smug mouth.

“Howie.”

“Fine,” he said. “I won’t say anything. But take it from me, Pru, you should. Or time will march on, and you’ll look back with nothing but a pile of regret.”

And as the conversation turned to happier topics, she had to wonder what exactly he regretted, because the warning certainly sounded like one that came from experience.

Hayes found Peggy underneath the hanging whale bones on the main floor of the museum. She seemed to be putting the finishing touches on another tree.

“Miss Swinton?” he said as he approached.

She turned. Had she been crying? Her red eyes were puffy, but she affixed a smile in place and pretended otherwise. “Oh, you didn’t leave with your girlfriend?”

He put a hand up. “Pru’s just a friend.”

“Ahh,” she said. “I’m sorry, I just assumed.”

“It happens.” He smiled at her. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, but it’s sweet of you to ask.” She waved him off and turned back to the tree. Peggy was the epitome of a third-grade teacher. She was kind and sweet—overly so, really. And while he didn’t know much about the woman, he did know that she loved Nantucket, and she was good with kids. So good, in fact, that Hayes thought it was a shame she’d never had any of her own.

Maybe that’s why she’d been crying.

No. He had a gut feeling it was something (or someone) else entirely. Aunt Nellie was right—there was a tingle, the magic.

“You don’t seem fine,” Hayes said. “You seem kind of upset.”

She hesitated for a beat, then hung a gold ornament on the tree. “Truth be told, I used to be somebody’s Prudence.”

“What do you mean?’ He glanced down at a plastic bin holding ornaments and bows. “May I?”

She nodded, giving him permission to help her decorate. “Oh, it’s nothing. Nothing a young, good-looking boy like you would want to hear about anyway.”

He flashed her the smile that always served him well, though he’d never tried to win over someone like Peggy. “Try me.”

Maybe it was the Noni Rose magic, or maybe Nellie was right and people did open up to Hayes, or maybe it was his flirtatious grin—whatever it was, Peggy drew in a deep breath, moved to the other side of the tree, and cleared her throat.

“It was a lifetime ago,” she said. “There was a boy who was a very good friend of mine. We were inseparable, really—a lot like you and Prudence, I gather.”

He continued to add ornaments to the tree, careful not to interrupt her. After all, if he was going to be successful with this matchmaking thing, he needed to know Peggy’s story. It was part of observing her in her natural habitat, he supposed.

“I thought one day we might end up together.” She moved behind the tree to work on the opposite side. “You know, romantically. Things were always so easy between us. I’ve always thought the best relationships were the ones that started as friendships.” She popped her head around the tree and looked at him. “That’s some free advice for you, young man.”

“Much appreciated.” He chuckled. “So, what happened?”

“It’s a long story,” she said. “But the short of it is—he married my best friend.”

Hayes stilled. Even now, all these years later, he could see the pain behind Peggy’s eyes.

“He and I were so close, but neither one of us had made a move, I guess you’d say. And, well, she did.”

“But you loved him,” he said.

Peggy nodded sadly.

“And she knew it.”

Another nod. “That didn’t stop her from asking me to be her