Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Nick

I trample through the brush, frustrated. There was someone out there, but they've vanished. Out of breath, I circle around to the cabin and mount the steps in the back. As I round the corner of the wraparound porch, I collide with someone and jerk back in surprise.

Instinctively, I plant my feet and raise my fists. My immediate thought is that whoever was in the woods is trying to get into my cabin. Before I can take a swing, my brain processes what I'm seeing and I exhale. It's Noelle.

She's shaking and panting, and I clasp her by her shoulders to steady her as I search her face and arms for injuries.

"Are you hurt?"

Her eyes are wide and her face is pale save for two bright red blotches on her cheeks .

"Nick, you startled me."

That makes two of us, I think. What I say is, "What's wrong?" Because clearly, something happened to terrify her.

She gives a shaky laugh. "I thought I heard someone."

"In the woods?"

She freezes. "Yes." Then she tries to brush it off. "Probably my imagination."

"There was someone in the woods," I tell her and immediately regret it.

Her chest heaves and her breath is shallow and too fast. She's hyperventilating.

I keep one hand on her arm while I unlock the door and ease it open. "Let's get you inside."

I guide her through the doorway and sit her down on the small couch by the hearth. She lets her head drop toward her knees. Once I'm sure she's steady on the seat, I hurry to the kitchen and pour a glass of water.

Crouching in front of her, I press the glass into her hands. "Drink."

She clutches it as she lifts her head. She gulps down some water before saying, "Thanks. I'm okay."

She's not, though. Her pulse flutters in her neck and sweat beads along her brow line.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" I ease myself into the chair across from her.

She takes another sip before placing the glass carefully on a coaster, then wrings her hands. "I was across the lake?—"

"At the gazebo?"

She nods. "Yeah."

"Why? "

"I was … looking for something."

I furrow my forehead at the vague response but let her continue.

"I thought it might be hidden by your dock. So I drove over here to check while you were in the woods." She takes a full breath and flutters her hands in the direction of the binoculars that are still hanging around me neck. "I watched you walk down the hill with your binoculars and then veer into the trees. I was walking up the path near the beehive, and I thought I heard someone whisper my name. I assumed it was you."

"It wasn't."

She nods. "I know. But when I turned around and you weren't there I felt someone watching me from the trees. I know how it sounds."

Unfortunately, it sounds believable. My chest tightens and I clench and release my fists in an effort to stay calm. "Where, exactly?"

"Behind the copse of quaking aspens near the edge of the wildflower garden."

I tighten my jaw. That's where I lost them—whoever they are. The fact that they were hidden in the woods spying on her fills me with rage and, I'll admit it, bone-deep fear.

"What were you looking for?" I ask.

A smile peeks through the worry on her face. "This is going to sound silly."

Great. I'll take silly over anxious any day—for both of us. I lean back in the chair and study her. "Hit me."

"I had tea at the inn today with your daughters and nieces."

"Elevenses. They told me before I left. "

I split in a hurry this morning so I wouldn't run into her at the inn. As I fled my home for the cabin, I told myself it was because my brain and heart were too full of memories of all the times I walked into the kitchen to find my wife and her best friend doubled over with laughter while they had their late-morning tea.

"Right. After tea, I helped them bring the summer Christmas decorations down from the attic."

"I'm sure they appreciated it." What I'm not sure of is where this story is headed.

"I carried down the box with Carol's special nutcrackers."

My throat tightens. She loved those things—each one imbued with a story, a memory, an emotion.

Noelle continues, "I took them into the family room to set them up. When I opened the carton, I found an envelope addressed to me."

It takes me a minute to process this. "A letter from Carol?" I can't imagine what else it could be.

"That's what I thought at first, too. But the message is typed, and it's not signed. Then Holly told me that she and her sisters took down the family room decorations last year before you brought Carol from the hospital. The nutcrackers were already packed away when she came home. I don't see how she could have tucked it in that box unless she went up to the attic."

I nod. She's right. I hated to ask the girls to do it because I knew the familiar ornaments and decorations would have been comforting to Carol. But the only way to bring her home to die was to turn the parlor into an ad hoc hospital room. The tchotchkes had to go .

I realize she's waiting for a response. I push down the all-too familiar wave of grief, clear my throat, and cough out an answer with a short shake of my head. "There's no way she could have managed the stairs at that point. She was too weak."

We both fall silent for a long moment. Judging by her tight, drawn expression, she's remembering the last time she saw Carol. I watch as she pushes back a tsunami of emotion of her own.

She takes a breath before reaching into her pocket to pull out an envelope. "So the note, it wasn't a note so much as … well, here." She hands it over.

I unfold a small map and study it. It's not to scale, but the layout of the businesses in the town square looks about right. "It's a map of the town."

"Yeah, and the surrounding area."

"I've never seen this map before. It's not the one that the Chamber of Commerce hands out."

"I don't know where it came from either, but it's on my list of things to look into."

I point to two hand-drawn numbers. A one marks the inn, and a two designates the Snowflake Cafe. "Were these here?"

"No, I drew them. There was a note in the envelope marked Clue Number 1."

"A clue?" I echo.

"I think it's a scavenger hunt. I found the first clue at your inn, so I marked the spot with a one. The clue led me to the coffee shop where Delphina had another envelope."

"Clue Number 2?"

"Clue Number 2," she confirms .

"What did Delphina say about it?"

She blows out a long breath, ruffling the hair that frames her face. "She said it came in with an order of coffee beans at the end the summer last year. She was supposed to hold it until someone came in asking for it. She tossed it in a drawer and forgot about it until I showed up today."

"I don't understand."

"I don't either. Not really. But that second clue led me here."

"To my fishing cabin?"

"Well, to the lake." She fishes a small note card out of her skirt pocket and gestures for me to take it from her.

I scan it. "The seventh day of Christmas. Which one is that?"

"Seven swans a-swimming," she tells me.

"That's why you were at the gazebo overlooking the lake."

"Right. It's the best swan-watching spot I know of. But I didn't find another envelope. Then I thought, well, the first clue was at your home. Maybe the third clue is here."

I consider this. "You can't see the swans from in here."

"I know. That's why I was down at your dock. But I didn't see anything there." Her expression flattens. "Then I got spooked and took off. Anyway, maybe the clue isn't about the swans. It could be the community swimming pool." After a long pause, she says, "Like I said the whole thing is silly."

It is silly. But it's also the sort of game guaranteed to pique her interest. She loves puzzles, riddles, and mysteries. Whoever set this up knows her—and has access to my attic. I hand the clue back to her .

"Maybe the girls are behind this. I could see them thinking you'd have fun solving a little mystery."

Her eyes spark and she admits, "I am having fun with it. But your daughters seemed as surprised by the envelope as I was. Either they're better actors than I realize or they don't have anything to do with it. Honestly? I don't think I need to know who created it. It's harmless fun, right?"

It seems to be, but my brain snags on something that stops me from saying yes. "Probably," I allow.

"Anyway, thanks for the water. I should go. I'll come back and look for the clue in the morning when it's light out."

She starts to stand, and I place my hand on her arm to stop her as I realize what's nagging at me. "Don't."

"Why not?"

I hesitate. I don't want to frighten her, but I also don't want her tromping around near the woods alone. Not tonight, and not even in the light of day. "There was a break-in at the lodge."

Her green eyes go wide. "What?"

"Enrique flagged me down out on the road. Someone broke a window to get into the ski lodge. Doesn't look like they took anything, but between that and the fact that there was a person running through the woods, it's not a good idea. Stay here tonight, and we can look for your third clue together tomorrow."

Yes, I want her to stay because I'm not sure what's going on out in the woods and I want her to be safe. But it's more than that. I don't want to be alone. This realization sets me back on my metaphorical heels. My therapist is going to lose it when he hears this. Dane has been urging me to acknowledge what I want for months now. At first, right after Carol died, I was numb. Then after the heaviest grief eased a bit, I just felt flat. Colorless. Dane keeps probing me, pushing me to acknowledge that wanting Carol not to have died isn't a real answer. Well, this is. I want Noelle to stay. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about wanting this, but I can't deny that I want it.

She scrunches up her face. "Oh, Nick, I don't really think?—"

"Please." My voice is gruffer than usual. "I'll make up the girls' bedroom for you. Then we can look for your clue together in the morning."

Her face goes still, and she studies me. After a pause that stretches out way too long, she says. "Sure, why not? I don't go into the library until the afternoon on Thursdays."

"Great. I'll get dinner started."

"Did you catch it?" Her smile is knowing.

What can I say, my fake fisherman status is an open secret around town. I lean into her amusement.

"That depends. By did I catch it, do you mean did I have the foresight to bring along a box of pasta and the fixings for a red sauce? If so, then, yep, I caught it."

When she's done giggling, I gesture for her to follow me into the kitchen.