Page 25 of Merry Mended Hearts

“Whoa.” Boone furrowed his brows. “I just added those extra logs. That’s impossible.”

Chills skittered down my spine. What was going on?

Slowly, Boone’s gaze landed on mine. The last time we locked eyes, his had been guarded and distant. Now, I could swim in his expression. The depth in his gaze was so striking, I had to take a step back and exhale.

“How long did you say you’ve worked here?” I asked.

“Three years—though, I grew up here before that.”

“And you’ve never…”

“Never.”

My mind spun like a top, whirling on a point without an end in sight. “I’m not sure it was the radio,” I said.

“What else could it have been?”

“I—” How could I explain this without sounding like a complete loon? “Junie found a room for me, so I moved in there. Shortly afterward, I heard something similar. You know, music. And when I went looking for its source…”

I rifled through my pocket and removed the necklace. “I found this.”

Boone’s eyes widened. “Where did you get that? Did you take it from my room?”

His accusation startled me. Fromhisroom?

“I just told you, I heard a tinkling melody in my room and then?—”

“Here,” he said, cutting me off. He held his flattened hand toward me. “I’ll take it.”

“It’s yours?”

“Not exactly.”

He scowled, his frown deepening as I reluctantly placed the locket in his awaiting palm. Why did this bother him so much?

“Then what?—?”

The minute the pendant touched his skin, pain lanced through his expression, so I didn’t finish.

Boone closed his fingers around the chain. Then wordlessly, with the necklace still in his fist, he reached across the other items displayed on the table—old books with faded spines, teacups, black and white photographs on display—and gripped the radio.

He lifted it completely this time, bumping a few teacups on their stacked stands in the process and making them tinkle against their saucers. And he stormed from the room.

I hurried after him. “What are you doing?”

From the view through the large glass windows, the dining hall was filled with people enjoying their meals, but something told me he wasn’t taking the radio out to lunch. Instead, he veered to the right. Toward the door labeledEmployees Only.

“Getting some answers,” he said through his teeth.

He didn’t wait for me, and this time, I didn’t follow him back into the old part of the inn. Was he putting the radio in his bedroom?

I stood with helpless hands in the hall, watching as he kicked open the door with his feet and disappeared inside.

“What just happened?” I asked no one but myself.

And of course, I couldn’t give myself any answers.

Boone’s behavior was beyond confusing. All I did was show him the necklace I’d found. Did he think I’d stolen it?

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