The Meaning in Mistletoe - Rachael Bloome Page 0,52

the truck.

While he felt a sense of relief in sharing his past with Kat, it also stirred unpleasant emotions he wasn’t sure how to process. And while his anger and frustration wasn’t directed at her, he struggled to untangle tonight’s situation from everything else with his father. He needed time to sort it out.

Lifting the collar of his coat, he reached for the handle, bracing himself for the downpour. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”

Not until Jack’s taillights disappeared in the darkness did Kat allow the first tear to fall.

For several minutes, she didn’t bother going inside. Shivering on the front porch, she watched the rain pummel the wet earth as tears stained her cheeks.

There was so much she wanted to say to Jack. So, why couldn’t she find the words? They lodged in the back of her throat, leaving her to flail helplessly.

Meanwhile, the check scorched a hole in her pocket.

She didn’t want Rich Gardener’s money, especially after everything Jack told her. But how could she turn it down, knowing what it would mean to Fern and the shelter?

Retrieving the offending slip of paper, she held it in her hands. The trail of zeros glared up at her accusingly.

She didn’t doubt Jack’s claims that his father’s money would come with strings attached. She’d seen it before. In the past, potential donors had offered Fern generous sums, but wanted to tell her how to run the shelter and control her decisions. They’d also suggested she support specific political candidates, even going so far as encouraging her to influence the voting habits of Hope Hideaway residents.

Without hesitation, Fern had shown them the door. And even on the verge of losing everything, Kat knew she would make the same choice.

Closing her eyes, she pinched both ends of the check and swiftly ripped it in half, praying for some of Fern’s hopeful optimism.

Because in that moment, the world had never looked so bleak.

Chapter 26

Kat groaned as she pawed the nightstand, attempting to silence her ringing cell phone.

“Hello?” she croaked without checking caller ID.

“We solved it!” Penny shrieked. “Hurry! I have a feeling this is the one. But I don’t want to check without you.”

Despite her low spirits, a glimmer of excitement rippled through her. After dressing quickly, Kat raced out the front door.

As she skipped around shimmering puddles on the way to her car, her heaviness began to lift. Warm sunlight filtered through the damp tree branches, and as she tilted her chin toward the periwinkle sky, she inhaled the fresh, invigorating fragrance of an early morning after the rain—the scent of hope and second chances.

By the time she’d reached Penny’s place, she’d resolved to go to Jack’s directly afterward to tell him she’d destroyed the check. She could still see the pained look in his eyes from last night, and she would do anything to restore his usual warmth and playful glimmer.

“Come in, come in.” Penny ushered her inside, beaming like the embodiment of pure joy. “I agonized over the clue all night, then I went to The Calendar Café for a cinnamon roll, and before long, nearly everyone in town was trying to help me solve it.”

Walking briskly, Penny led the way into her father’s old room. “Frank figured out the first line, ‘the seven seas I used to sail,’ referenced a boat, most likely a sailing ship. And Maggie, who’s taken up bird-watching in her retirement, surmised that the second line, ‘the sky was once my stage,’ referred to a bird of some kind. Or more specifically, a feather since the line is in the past tense.

“Of course, it was Beverly who pieced together the rest,” she added. “‘But the greatest story I’ll regale, belongs upon the page.’”

“A book?” Kat asked.

“Close.” Standing at her father’s desk, Penny lifted a small rectangular wooden box with the silhouette of a sailing ship hand painted on the lid. “None of the clues made sense until I remembered this.” She unhinged a tiny gold latch and flipped it open.

A feather-plumed ink pen nestled on a bed of burgundy velvet.

As all the pieces came together, Kat’s pulse quickened. “Do you see the brooch?”

Please, please be there. She didn’t think she could handle another clue. With Christmas only a few weeks away, they were running out of time.

“No…” Penny ran her finger along the perimeter of the box. “But…”

“But what?” Kat pressed, inching closer.

She spotted a tip of burgundy ribbon wedged between the inner velvet lining and the wooden exterior.

Pinching the frayed edge, Penny