12. Sadie

W ith her clerk working the front of Charmed by Chocolate, Sadie was free to spend the day in the shop's kitchen, which was definitely her happy place. There, she could create new recipes and stock her display shelves with fresh delights that the locals and tourists on Amelia Island seemed to love.

When she was this busy, she only glanced through the glass that allowed customers in the retail area to see the candies being made. But something caught her eye as she poured out a batch of silky cocoa nibs, refined to perfection in the melangeur .

Turning to look, she had to laugh at the sight of Chloe, waving wildly to get her attention.

Wait a minute. Was that a child with her? Was that… Judah ?

Without a second's hesitation, she wiped her hands on her apron and abandoned her slab of chocolate, rushing out to greet them.

"Hello!" She grinned at the little boy who stood with his face pressed so hard against the display glass, it made his glasses crooked. "You must be the proverbial kid in a candy store!"

Chloe chuckled, her caring hand resting so naturally on the child's shoulder it kind of took Sadie's breath away. She'd never thought of her youngest sister as the maternal type, though she was fantastic with their nieces and nephews.

Sadie always thought it was because Chloe was young—at heart and in life. But standing there with a mother's touch and more than a little pride in her eyes? Sadie saw her thirty-year-old baby sister differently.

"What brings—"

"I have great, amazing news," Chloe told her, bouncing on her sneakers to meet Sadie halfway around the counter for a hug. "But first, chocolate. Judah, this is my sister, Sadie, and she made all of these beautiful treats."

Judah looked up with a gaze Sadie suspected Santa Claus saw on the face of every child at a mall—a little wonder, a lot of respect, and a whisper of fear.

"It's nice to meet you," Sadie said, lowering to his tiny height. "I know there's a lot to pick from but I bet you'd like a cake pop."

He stared at her, the slightest shake of his head.

"You don't like cake pops?" she asked, turning to the display. "It's that thing right there that looks like a chocolate-covered lollipop with cake inside."

"Well, I know he likes cake," Chloe said, that protective hand patting his narrow shoulder.

"And lollies," he whispered, so soft Sadie wasn't sure she'd heard him.

"Then this is perfect." She looked up at Chloe, aching to ooh and ahh and fuss over how cute he was, but she didn't want to terrify the poor child, who seemed overwhelmed. "Can I give him one?"

"Yes, and one for Travis, who is outside with Lady Bug. Then I want to talk to you. It's urgent."

Sadie gave her a curious look, but handled the business of the cake pops, chatted with the shy but incredibly adorable child, and set two coffees at a small side table while Chloe walked Judah and the cake pops outside.

What could her great news be? Well, that they would be adopting Judah, of course. She wasn't sure why that wouldn't merit an all-fam meeting and a huge party, or why Chloe would tell Sadie first or alone, but it didn't matter.

Whatever Chloe's news was, she seemed happy when she flew back into the shop and practically threw herself into the café chair across from Sadie, her blue eyes bright with her news.

"Thank me now, because I have found Rhett Butler!"

"What?" Sadie gasped, the words not even computing and so not what she was expecting. "You have him?"

"No, but I know who does. I think. An old man came into the rescue today to tour so he could arrange to board his cat, then he went crazy when he saw the flyer. He said he just got the cat from his cleaning lady, who found him in the street a few weeks ago! I'm pretty sure he has Rhett Butler."

With each word, Sadie sat up straighter, flabbergasted. "No! That's amazing, Chloe. Thank you!"

"Well, don't thank me yet. He has him, but he doesn't want to let him go."

"Too darn bad. That cat's not his."

"He cried," Chloe added with a grimace.

Sadie inched back. "But if it's Rhett, then he can't keep him. Are you sure it's not another cat?"

"Not entirely, obviously, but he told me where he lives and said he'd be home tonight, so you and Scout can go down there and see."

Sadie let out a sigh and her excitement dropped a notch. "Well, he can't be that attached if it's really Rhett and he's only had the cat for a few weeks."

"You have to go see him."

"Oh, we will. Scout will be over the moon. He's been miserable trying to decide if he should tell Kitty and ruin her vacation. Hopefully, this is Rhett, the old man is sensible, and we can put this behind us. Thank you, Chloe! Great sleuth work."

"I didn't do a thing. It was serendipity that Ol' Hank came into Rocky's Rescue to board his cat." Chloe sipped the coffee, her eyes widening with appreciation. "There's chocolate in this brew."

"You expected anything different?" Sadie asked with a laugh. "It's good, huh?"

"Fabulous." She turned and glanced through the window, frowning. "Where did those two go?"

Sadie leaned in and looked hard at her sister. "You know what I thought the good news was, don't you?"

"Yeah," Chloe replied with a shrug. "He's not there yet. But today is already a huge step forward, honestly, with him going on his own to see Judah. He's thinking about it, and that's all I can ask."

Searching her sister's face, Sadie felt a hundred different questions form. "Are you sure you're ready for this, Chloe? Is he? A child is a huge responsibility and you two aren't married or living together."

"I know," Chloe said. "But those are logistical things that can be overcome. Travis needs time to come to terms with his father—and Judah's grandfather—and the pain of the past. But if he takes too much time? That little boy will be scooped up by a loving family and while that's good for him, there's something about knowing he's Travis's nephew. Well, half, but has that ever mattered in our family? He's blood and I don't want to lose him."

Sadie nodded, completely understanding that. "And marriage or living together is just…logistics?"

"No, it's more than that. But I also think that's inevitable for us."

Sadie searched her face, of course thinking of her own boyfriend. Were those things "logistics" and were they "inevitable"?

Chloe leaned in, her gaze sharp like she could read Sadie's mind. "Are you starting to feel…the thing?"

She laughed but her smile wavered.

"I don't know," she admitted. "The cat brought us closer. And all I ever feel about Scout is that he's so…nice. Then I wonder if ‘the thing' isn't just for, you know, the ones that keep you off balance."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "The ones like Tristan Saint Pierre? Did you learn nothing from your walk with a bad-to-the-bone billionaire? Life ain't a romance novel, Sadie, and the ones that ‘keep you off balance,' as you say, also make you fall flat on your face into a pit of despair."

She was so right.

"I mean, look at Dad," Chloe continued. "The nicest man on Earth, and who doesn't love Rex Wingate?"

"Amen to that," Sadie said, pushing up, already anxious to see Scout and test out Chloe's theory, hoping to feel…the thing. "I better finish my truffles and clean up so we can go get Rhett. Text me the address and the guy's name."

"I will, but remember…he's very old and…tender."

"We'll be fine. I'll have the world's nicest guy with me." She winked and pushed her chair in. "Have fun with your boys, Chloe."

"Good luck with Rhett. And his new owner. Big luck with Hank."

Scout picked up Sadie outside the chocolate shop without either of them changing or having dinner at the end of the day. They were too anxious to roll down to the other end of the island and bring home Rhett Butler.

But he did take the time to pull her close and give her a kiss.

"God bless the Wingate family," he murmured against her lips. "They saved the day, the cat, my relationship with Kitty Worthington, probably my reputation, and my business. 'Cause without the chair of our Local Business Organization on my side, more than my cookies would crumble."

She had to laugh, because he was such a goofball sometimes, this dear man who got his childhood nickname because he was, through and through, a Boy Scout.

Could those traits—the very things that made him darling, different, and dependable—really be what was stopping her from just giving in and loving the man? Because Chloe was so right about the bad boys of the world.

"What?" he urged when she didn't respond for way too long. "You don't think this cat is Rhett Butler? Oh, Sadie, if this is another of your wild—"

"No, no," she assured him. "Not a wild idea like Wiggles. How is he, anyway?"

"Very much at home and so stinking affectionate, I think he believes he's a dog."

She smiled. "You're keeping him, aren't you?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "How'd you know?"

"Because you're so…nice."

He threw her a wistful smile, as if he knew that could be his downfall.

"I hope this really is Rhett Butler," he said. "Because if it isn't, I made a huge decision."

"You're calling Kitty?" she guessed.

"I have to. The guilt is killing me. I swear I can hear my mother hounding me from the great beyond. ‘Oy vey, Martin!'" he imitated with a classic Yiddish accent. "‘Aunt Kitty is going to die of the pain!'"

Sadie chuckled. "Well, let's hope you can hear your mother blowing kisses of joy soon, because Chloe was pretty sure this was Rhett. She did warn us that the man, Hank, is not keen to part with him."

"Well, too bad." He threw her a questioning look. "I mean, how connected can he be to a cat he's had for, what, three weeks?"

"Apparently he was emotional."

"Well, I'm emotional," he fired back. "And Kitty will be at DEFCON 1. Or is it 5? I can never remember."

"I don't know, but Kitty will go ballistic if she comes home to no Rhett Butler."

"Which means, and you need to agree to this, I definitely have to call Kitty tonight if this is a false alarm."

She nodded. "As much as it pains me, I agree."

As they drove, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "So, good day at Charmed by Chocolate?"

"Surprising day," she told him. "When Chloe came with the news about Rhett, she brought little Judah and he is… oof ." She shook her head. "So cute it hurts to look at him."

He lifted a brow in her direction. "I've never heard you gush about kids, Sadie."

"This one's special."

"They all are," he said softly, and it was easy to hear the very subtle longing in his voice.

"You want kids, don't you?"

He gave her an "are you kidding" look. "But then, I want a lot of things I can't have."

"You…could have kids."

Lifting her hand to his lips, he gave her knuckles a kiss and didn't answer, and that silence hung in the car.

Finally, he sighed. "The issue of kids, assuming you and I, uh, go the distance? That would be up to you, Sadie. I would agree to anything that would make you happy."

"Oh." She let out a little sigh, so touched by that. "I guess…I honestly don't know. I just turned thirty-six, so I don't have a lot of years left to decide."

He just checked the GPS and turned at the corner. "Let's get Rhett Butler in our hands before we tackle major life issues, okay?"

"I couldn't agree more," she said on a relieved laugh. "But what are you going to do if this guy doesn't want to give him up?"

"Not give him up?" he scoffed. "He doesn't have a choice. Rhett Butler belongs to Kitty Worthington and I have the photos and all the shot records and paperwork to prove it." He narrowed his eyes in determination. "He can't give me a fight."

"I doubt he will. Chloe said he's practically a hundred but apparently he's a crier."

Scout winced at that, but shook his head. "He can be an ax murderer and he still can't have a cat that belongs to someone else."

"He's very, very old."

"I don't care if he's Moses himself and parts the Red Sea. He can't have Rhett Butler. It's not up for debate."

They parked at the condo complex, checked the unit number Chloe had texted, and climbed out of the car, holding hands in solidarity.

At Unit 2A, a man with wispy white hair and baggy slacks that looked like they could fall off his skinny body appeared behind a screen door. Chloe hadn't been exaggerating about his age—he was ancient.

"You must be Hank," Sadie said as they got closer. "My sister told you we'd be here, right?"

For a long time, he just looked through the screen, silent.

"For the cat?" Scout added after an awkward beat.

Sadie got close enough to see his blue eyes were moist, either with age…or tears. Oh, boy. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Can we see him, Hank?" she asked. "Could we see Rhett Butler?"

"His name's Elvis," he said. "Because my Margie was the biggest Elvis fan you ever met. Watched every movie he ever made about a hundred times until I wanted to scream, ‘No more Blue Hawaii !'" He gave a smile, with more gaps than actual teeth. "But when I got this guy, I knew what my Margie would want to name him."

Next to her, Scout huffed a breath. "I'm very sorry, Mr.—"

"Jus' Hank." He pushed open the screen door. "Come on in. You don't look like you'd kill me for him."

As they stepped inside, Sadie glanced at Scout, who exhaled a little as if to acknowledge that this wouldn't be as easy as he'd thought.

"I'm Scout Jacobson," he said, extending his hand. "This is Sadie Wingate. You met her sister today."

He nodded and shook their hands, then pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. The yellowed cotton looked as old as he was as he used it to dab at his eyes. Very slowly, silently, he folded it into a small square and held it out.

"See my initials?" He showed them the corner of the hankie, with HMG embroidered—not very well—in blue thread. "That's the last thing my Margie made me before she passed."

"I'm so sorry." Sadie and Scout spoke in perfect unison.

"It's a mess," he said with a snort, fluttering the embroidered corner. "She couldn't see past her nose in the end, but she wanted me to have this. She knew her time was up and she worked so hard on it. See?" He held it closer. "Didn't quite finish the G for Gatling. Died that night, you see."

Sadie's heart shifted and Scout just sighed.

"That's…a nice memory of her," Scout said, the bravado from the car missing now. "Could we, um, see Rhett? It might not be him, of course," he added. "We have to be sure."

"My lady brought him here," he said, gesturing for them to follow him a few steps into a living room that looked like it had been decorated in 1955 and never touched since. "Carla's her name. Comes twice a month and tidies up for me. She thought the cat might lift my spirits since my Margie…well, the house has been pretty empty these past months."

"I'm sure it has been, sir," Scout said, voice oozing with respect and warmth. "But if this cat she found is Rhett Butler, then it will be the cat I'm watching for a friend."

"Not very closely," he muttered. "If you were on the job, son, he'd have never gotten away."

Scout tipped his head in acknowledgement of the facts, looking just the right amount of chastised. But with Scout? That wasn't fake—he was ashamed of losing the cat, and that touched Sadie.

"Carla was cleaning a house up there and found Elvis stuck in a tree in the backyard. She coaxed him down, God bless her, and the couple she works for said no one around them owned a cat."

That could easily have been one of Scout's neighbors. "The owner lives in town, but I was—"

"Negligent," the man interjected. "You lost him, so in my opinion, you don't love him like I do."

Scout threw a helpless look at Sadie, who was also at a loss for how to deal with Hank, who might be old, but he should have been a lawyer for how well he was making a case.

"Where is he, Hank?" she asked as gently as she could.

"I put him in a cat bag in case you showed up," Hank said. "Though I was praying you wouldn't."

Scout grimaced at that as the man pointed toward a floral chintz sofa. "Sit. I'll get him." He shuffled down the hall, away from them.

Scout dropped to the seat with a groan of discontent. "Just what I always wanted to be," he muttered. "Someone's unanswered prayer."

Next to him, Sadie put a hand on his. "But he's the answer to ours," she reminded him.

He nodded, looking around the small townhouse. Both of their gazes stopped at a picture of an older couple standing side by side with the words "Henry and Margaret – Fifty Years" engraved on the metal frame.

They heard Hank's footfall and a very loud—and very familiar—meow.

"All righty, then. I got him in this here container, but he ain't happy."

He came in holding a canvas cat carrier with two hands, the contents squirming for freedom.

Maybe it wasn't Rhett Butler, who certainly wouldn't go into a carrier without a major fight.

"Oh, here, I'll get that for you," Scout offered, jumping up to take the carrier.

But Hank turned protectively, unwilling to give up the cat. "I just want to say goodbye," he said, taking the carrier to a worn velour recliner in the corner.

He placed it on the seat, and bent over to speak into the netting. "I have very bad news, Elvis. Very, very bad news."

Still standing, Scout sighed. "Let's see if this is the right cat, Hank." She could have sworn she heard a little hope in Scout's voice—like it would be easier to face Kitty's wrath than break old Hank's heart.

Scout stepped next to the recliner and kneeled down, looking inside. Instantly, the cat started mewing and pawing at the netting in recognition.

Scout closed his eyes with a grunt. "It's him."

"It's him?" Sadie said, her voice rising.

With a moan of bone-deep sadness, the old man practically crumpled on the sofa, looking over at the picture.

"Oh, Margie. They're taking him. My new friend. My little Elvis." His voice cracked and Scout turned, looking at him with fear and horror.

"Please don't cry," he said.

The man held up one hand and reached into his pocket for the embroidered handkerchief with the other. "I'm fine. It's fine. Go. Take him." He shuddered, fighting a sob. "I'm just…I'll be okay. Been through worse this year, I tell you."

Sadie sat next to him, Rhett forgotten. Without giving it much thought, she put an arm around his hunched and gaunt shoulders, getting a whiff of that distinctly old man smell that only made him seem more pathetic.

"You can get another cat."

"I want Elvis," he admitted, throwing a look at her. "He's been my pal."

Pity changed Scout's whole expression as he turned back to the carrier, unzipping the corner and easing the canvas down.

The cat stuck his head right out, his eyes wide, his mouth open with a meow as he stared at Scout.

"Hello, there, Rhett Butler," he whispered, lightly stroking the orange stripes on his head. He accepted it for a moment, then turned and offered his backside in a typical Rhett B move.

"You gave me quite a scare, buddy," Scout said, undaunted.

Hank sniffled and tried to push himself up, but he couldn't. Instantly, Scout moved to help him, offering a hand.

As the old man put his hand in Scout's, he looked up, tears flowing.

"He's all I got in the world now. My Margie's gone. We have a son who lives in Oregon and hasn't been here for fifteen years. Neighbors come and go. Carla comes twice a month. I see a couple of doctors." His voice cracked. "I'll be ninety in twenty-seven days," he added. "And without Elvis, I'm just gonna pray that the Lord takes me home so Margie and I can be together. I'd even watch that dadgum Blue Hawaii again, just to be with her."

Scout didn't let go, but eased the little old man to his feet.

"Hank, I…"

"Do you have to take him, son? Do you?" He worked to swallow, clearly ashamed of his tears but unable to fight them. "'Cause he's the whole world to me."

Scout stood with his mouth open, as if he knew what he had to say—what he'd been prepared to say—but it all got silenced in the face of old Hank.

"I have an idea," he finally said. "His owner won't be back for about two weeks. Why don't you keep him for at least one more week? Would that help?"

"Oh, yes!" He launched toward Scout and threw his arms around him. "Yes, thank you."

"But only for…" The rest was mumbled and lost in a kiss the man gave him on the cheek.

"You're a good man," Hank announced, holding Scout tightly. "A good, good man. I'll take great care of Elvis."

Scout managed to ease out of his touch, his expression pure agony at the decision he'd just made and the one he'd have to make in a week.

But what else could he do? He was… nice .

And right then, Sadie loved him for that.