Her rosy cheeks are windburned, and her eyes sparkle with hope.
“He’s speaking with his attorney.” I let the dogs out to do their business in the snow and scan the horizon for the second sleigh. “Where’s everyone else?”
“The sleigh driver says he’s going back to get them,” Riley informs me. “Tim and Seth went with him.”
“Everyone’s okay,” Macy says. “I texted Lindsay, and she says their sleigh got stuck in a ditch. The snow’s falling pretty hard though, so they’ll see what they can do.”
“Should I go help?” I crane my neck, wondering if I can commandeer the truck. “They might need a tow.”
“They’re not far,” Riley says, looking up from her phone. “The guys are hiking back, and the ladies are on the horses. Looks like the sleigh that went back got stuck too.”
“At least we have horses, of courses!” Macy says. “Hey, looks like Mr. Peterson is here.”
“I’m on my way out,” the lawyer says. “Anyone need a ride back to town?”
“Seth and Tim might,” Riley answers him. “But I wouldn’t mind if they got snowed in here with us.”
“Text them and see.” He puts on his hat and coat, but when Riley receives the next text, she says, “They already walked back. Merry Christmas, Mr. Peterson. Say ‘hi’ to your family for us.”
“Sure thing, and Merry Christmas to all the Powers and Brants.” He gives us a jolly wave and steps out the front door.
I follow Mr. Peterson to the porch and ask, “Did the meeting have something to do with changing the will?”
“You know I can’t talk to you about what transpired.” The lawyer keeps walking toward the idling truck. “Why don’t you ask him? He seems mighty cheerful and ready to celebrate his best Christmas ever.”
“Okay, then.” I call the dogs back into the house and go to look for Sammie.
Susanna has everyone herded into the kitchen for hot apple cider and cookies, but Sammie is absent.
“If you’re looking for Sammie, she’s with your grandfather,” Susanna says. “He asked for her first.”
“Thanks. I’ll wait for her then.” I stride toward the guest room, but before I get there, Sammie comes out of the room.
She’s holding a manila folder full of papers in front of her chest and looks flustered.
“Sammie, what happened in there? Is he okay?” My voice is staccato and frantic.
“He’s fine, but we need to talk. Something strange is going on.”
“I know. Meet me upstairs.” I put a finger on my lips as Susanna ushers Abbie into Grandpa’s room.
We sneak upstairs to our room in the attic. As soon as I shut the door, Sammie wheels around and points at me accusingly. “What the hell is going on with this Elfprentice deal? Abbie thinks we’re scoring points with your grandfather for some kind of prize. She calls it the Christmas Cottage.”
“That’s what I want to talk about. We can’t let Poppy change his will.” I grab the manila folder. “Is this it?”
“No, that’s his screenplay. But what’s this about a will?”
“He wants to name you in his will to inherit the Christmas Cottage. He’s completely taken in by you.”
Sammie’s jaw drops, and her eyes widen. “You mean as in a real will and not a pretend will?”
“I think it’s real. His lawyer was here.”
“No way!” She looks shocked at first, but then a smile slides across her face. “No wonder Poppy is so sweet to me. He says I’m his favorite and that he wishes we could have known each other earlier. But he didn’t say anything about a will.”
“He wouldn’t have told you.” My stomach twists at how screwed up we are once he finds out our tricks. “We weren’t supposed to tell the elves, and I didn’t take it that seriously at first. It does look like Lindsay already told Abbie.”
“She told Will, too. He was asking to sing with Nash so he can score points.”
