Page 27 of Merry Mended Hearts

Junie folded her arms, and I finally realized what she was wearing. She had all kinds of ugly sweaters for the holiday season, but this was one I wasn’t sure I’d seen before. It was pink and was covered with cats wearing Santa hats with actual little fuzzy poms all over the place.

Why anyone would put that combination of items onto one shirt was beyond me.

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are,” she said. “Come on, Boone. You can’t think I snuck in, stole the locket, and planted it in one of the guest rooms here.”

Even as she spoke, I knew my assumption was misplaced. Hearing her say it aloud made me realize just how ludicrous it was.

I rubbed a hand over my face, releasing another breath that allowed my thoughts to clear.

“Sorry,” I said. “You’re right. It’s complete nonsense. I shouldn’t have jumped to such a random conclusion.”

Junie wouldn’t do that to me. She wouldn’t sneak into my house and rifle through my personal belongings—no matter how many hints she dropped that I needed to put myself back out there again.

She bent to open the toolbox beside the desk and paused at the sight of the radio beside her computer. “Don’t tell me the radio moved its way in here on its own, too.”

“That was me,” I said, resting my hip against the desk.

She retrieved a screwdriver from the box and closed its lid. “Uh-huh. Care to tell me why you’ve decided to redecorate?”

For some reason, admitting this was harder than showing her the necklace.

Here goes.

“I heard it play, Junie.”

Junie’s eyes widened. I waited for her to deny the admission. To call me an idiot and remind me that the old thing hadn’t been heard for a hundred years.

But her expression remained frozen. She tucked her lips into her teeth.

“Why don’t you look surprised?” I asked.

A thought dawned. I folded my arms.

“You heard it, too, didn’t you?”

A pink blush filled Junie’s cheeks. She peered to one side and then the other. Placing the screwdriver on the desk, she dashed to the door, closed it entirely, and then spoke with her back to me.

“I—I heard it the other night. It only played one day of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’”

“And?”

No one had heard the radio play—not even my own mother before she’d passed away. Now, though Junie’s mom was still around, only Junie and I oversaw the inn and its maintenance.

“And ever since then, it’s played one verse every day. And you know how Grace didn’t have a room when she first got here?”

“Only too well,” I muttered.

“It’s the weirdest thing, but Lacie and Jared, you know, the couple you brought up in the sleigh a few days ago?”

“How could I forget?” Mr. and Mrs. Sorensen had been the most irritated guests I’d taken out in a long time. Usually, when couples wanted to ride together, they, well, wanted to be together.

But as these two had sat together, they’d repelled one another like the wrong ends of magnets. I figured they’d been in the middle of a couple’s squabble.

“What’s their story?” I asked.

I’d wondered at the time, but I hadn’t cared enough to do much about it. That was above my pay grade.

Junie rubbed her hands together as though they were cold. The movement made several of the poms on her sweater twitch.

---