The Meaning in Mistletoe - Rachael Bloome Page 0,56

Penny told him, “She isn’t here. She… went back to Starcross Cove.”

In his shock, he nearly stumbled over a wicker basket filled with umbrellas.

“But she left you this,” she added with a kind, sympathetic smile. “She said you’d know what it meant.”

Penny handed him a dusty CD case. When he peered closer at the blue-tinted photograph of a woman on the cover, he noticed the words in the upper left-hand corner.

BLUE

JONI MITCHELL

His pulse quickening, he turned the case over, skimming the list of song titles until his gaze rested on the eighth one.

River.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“What does it mean?” Penny asked, peering at him curiously.

“There’s something I need to do.”

Chapter 28

The dulcet, melancholy notes of Joni Mitchell’s “River” filled the cab of Jack’s truck as he rumbled along the familiar road with his windows cracked open. He relished the icy chill whipping past him, promising another snowstorm on the horizon.

Poppy Creek usually saw only a couple of snowstorms a year, and Jack looked forward to every single one. Something about witnessing the entire world enveloped in white reminded him of a blank slate.

And now more than ever, he appreciated the comparison.

Even though he drove alone, he sensed Kat’s presence. He could almost hear her captivating voice harmonizing with each line of the song, encouraging him to take this leap of faith and forgiveness.

She may not fully realize it, but she was the embodiment of Fern’s sage wisdom. Kat had the most generous heart he’d ever known. And he longed for the moment he could tell her exactly that.

But before he could look to the future, he needed to face his past.

When he rang the doorbell, and the melodic chime echoed inside, Jack expected the housekeeper to greet him. He wasn’t prepared for his father’s startled expression.

“Jack?” Once the shock settled, Rich stepped to the side, allowing his son to enter. “Were we expecting you?”

“Nope. I was just passing by.” Jack cringed as he moved into the expansive foyer. Just passing by? Really? Man, he was terrible at this.

Michael Bublé’s “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” drifted down the hallway along with the sweet scent of sugar cookies.

“Your mom and Lucy are baking in the kitchen,” Rich explained, noticing the not-so-subtle way Jack sniffed the air.

Incredulous, Jack inhaled deeply, detecting the faintest whiff of almond extract—his mother’s secret ingredient. He’d assumed she didn’t bake anymore. Wasn’t that why she’d hired the private chef with a flair for French pastries?

He tried to refocus on Kat’s words from the other night, remembering why he was there.

Love is generous. It chooses to see the good in people.

There were times it felt like he’d need a magnifying glass to find the good in his father. But he also knew years of holding a grudge could cloud a person’s perspective.

“I’m starting my New Year’s resolution a few weeks early,” he said, mustering up his nerve. “It’s a new trend called talking about your feelings.”

Rich’s eyes widened.

“I still haven’t worked out all the kinks, but I’ll give it my best shot.” Jack drew in a fortifying breath, squaring his shoulders. “Ever since your business took off, it seemed like the success changed you—changed us, as a family. But the real kicker was when you offered Ashley the job in New York. That crushed me, Dad.” His throat tightened, but he forced himself to push through the discomfort. “It may seem foolish to ask after all these years, but I have to know… why’d you do it? The real, honest answer. Why’d you offer her the job?”

For several minutes, Rich didn’t respond. And when he finally met Jack’s gaze, his eyes were filled with sorrow. “Because I knew she’d take it.”

Silence stretched between them.

“I don’t understand.”

Rich sighed, deep and pained. “I offered her the job because I knew she’d never stay in Poppy Creek. Not long term, anyway. And if you’d married her like you’d planned, it would’ve hurt a whole lot more when she walked away.”

Jack winced, wounded by his father’s words as though they’d been an actual blow to the gut. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Would you have listened to me if I had?”

As Jack pondered his father’s question, uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach because he honestly wasn’t sure.

“Look, son. I have my share of regrets,” Rich admitted with some effort. “I may have stepped in when I shouldn’t have. And it would be a lie to tell you that my pride and disappointment didn’t play into my decision.”

Jack’s spirits