He added a kiss on her head. “So stop thinking aboutlight timeand start thinkingour time,” he said gently.
“Iamthinking about it,” she assured him, her tone softened. “Just…in a different way.”
He squeezed her hands once more and then let go, stepping back with a nod. “I need to do a sleigh ride.” He kissed herlightly. “We can go at this again later. Tomorrow? Same time, same light?”
She smiled and nodded through misty eyes, and watched him leave, knowing every nuance of Jack Kessler so well. He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. But she could tell she’d missed something—something small but important.
Later,when it was quite dark, Cindy still had the unsettled feeling when MJ came into her office again.
“Come on,” MJ said. “You’re done for the day.”
Cindy looked up, startled. “I just—there’s this email I need to?—”
“Nope.” MJ cut her off with a smile. “Let’s have wine by the Christmas tree. Isn’t that a tradition?”
“It is now,” Cindy joked, happy for the moment with MJ, who marched her to the cozy living room, two wines already poured. The Christmas tree twinkled beside them, each ornament reflecting the firelight.
Cindy lifted her glass in a mock toast. “I think I blew it.”
“I’m not drinking to that,” MJ said. “Blew what?”
“The walkthrough. Jack tried to make it romantic and I…” She stared into the wine glass. “I started talking about camera angles.”
MJ tipped her head, her eyes full of sympathy. “You’re under a lot of pressure. You were just in work mode. He understands.”
Cindy nodded miserably. “I just wanted it to be perfect for Aisle Files. This is our one shot to make Snowberry Weddings legitimate in the big leagues. If she loves it, we’re golden. If she doesn’t…”
“Then you’ll try again,” MJ said simply. “You always do.”
Cindy looked at her sister, studying the faint lines around her eyes—the ones that came from years of joy and laughter. Tonight, they seemed shadowed by something else.
“What about you?” Cindy asked quietly. “You’ve been smiling at me this whole time, but it’s that…half-smile. What’s wrong?”
MJ hesitated, then shook her head. “Nothing. Really.”
“MJ.”
Her sister sighed and set her glass down. “Fine. I just—I haven’t heard a word from Matt. Not an email, not a call, nothing. When he said he’d be back in a year, I guess I thought he meant Thanksgiving, which was when he showed up last time. That’s come and gone.”
Cindy’s chest tightened, knowing that she was so wrapped up in her own personal problems that she’d nearly forgotten that MJ had issues, too.
“Have you tried contacting the attorney in town who managed the gift for us?”
When Matt had left his shocking seven-figure check, he’d done a lot of legwork ahead of time to make it easy and legal for them. He’d worked with a local lawyer who’d arranged the transfer of funds and handled opening a trust, so they weren’t hit by a massive tax bill.
MJ shook her head. “That’s not my place. Matt was clear in the letter that he had things he wanted to get done. To give away all he had would be like running a corporation. I’m sure he’s busy, but…maybe it’s just not meant to be. I mean—how would George feel?”
“If you met someone six years after he passed away?” Cindy gave a soft laugh. “George McBride would say, ‘What took you so long, MJ? Time’s a wastin’.’”
But MJ didn’t smile at the bad imitation of her sweet late husband.
“I can see why you’re concerned but I still think it’s too soon to worry.” Cindy leaned closer. “You really think he’d disappear forever? After everything? After giving us—you, really—a million dollars to save Snowberry Lodge and build it into something for the future? You think a man like that just walks away?”
MJ gave a sad smile. “Maybe. People change.”
“Or maybe,” Cindy said softly, “he’s on his way back. You’re the eternal optimist, remember? Don’t think for one second that George wouldn’t want you to be happy. And, for heaven’s sake, don’t give up on Matt Walker.”
MJ looked at her, amusement flickering. “That’s rich coming from you, Mrs. Panic About Clout and Light Time.”
