Page 19 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Robyn lifted her brows. “Could I take that as a raincheck, then?”

“I think I can arrange that,” Tyler said. He was close enough that Robyn could feel the heat radiating off of him, which triggered her other senses from yesterday: the feel of his hands on her waist, the softness of his lips as he claimed her.

“I think that’s the tree,” Zoe called from up ahead.

“Oooh, let me see! Let me see!” Emma darted forward, ponytail bouncing.

The group reached the oak, which stood apart from the surrounding trees by sheer size alone. It rose more than a hundred feet into the clear autumn sky, its silvery bark deeply furrowed, its twisted branches still holding tight to fiery red and orange leaves. The trunk was wide and ancient, with a dark hollow tucked high above them, just out of reach even for Tyler, who had inches to spare on everyone else.

“Lift me up, Daddy. I can reach it,” Emma declared, already holding her arms up like this was obviously the correct solution.

Tyler gave her a look. “Sweetpea, we don’t know what might be living in that tree after all these years.”

Robyn, Zoe, and Mrs. Bishop all made noises of agreement.

Robyn stepped forward. “Here. How about I give it a try?”

Tyler hesitated, then crouched low in front of her. “Okay. Carefully.”

Robyn climbed onto his shoulders, trying to act like this was an everyday activity for Ivy League professors on sabbatical, bracing her legs around this gorgeous man’s neck while the entire town watched. Tyler’s hands settled at her calves and she swallowed at the pressure of his palms through denim.

“You good?” he asked, voice tipped up toward her.

“Yes,” she said too quickly, then tried again, calmer. “Yep. I’m good.”

He rose smoothly, one hand braced against the trunk for balance as he stepped closer. His other hand stayed wrapped around her ankle. Robyn’s fingers curled against the bark, rough and cool beneath her palm, and she could feel the steady strength of him under her, his solid shoulders, steady stance, the faint lift and fall of his breathing.

She leaned forward, peering into the hollow. The air under the branches was darker and damp, the inside of the tree smelling faintly of wet wood and earth. For a moment she saw only shadow—then, deeper in, a glint of something smooth and square.

“I think I see something,” Robyn said, voice going tight with excitement. “It looks like… a metal box.

“Just a second,” she murmured, shifting her weight carefully. She reached farther in, trying not to think about spiders or whatever else might have decided this oak was home.

The box was wedged in the tree, as if the wood had grown around it over the decades.

Robyn’s fingers closed around the edge of the box. She tugged again, harder this time, and felt it slide forward with a reluctant scrape against the inside of the trunk. For a heartbeat, it felt like it might stick again, and then it came free.

“There!” Robyn said, triumphant, holding the little waterproof container up like a prize.

Mrs. Bishop clapped. Emma squealed.

“Okay, okay, bring it down,” Zoe said, laughing. “Before you two decide to start a circus act.”

Tyler lowered Robyn carefully, his hands still warm and steady at her calves until her feet hit the ground. Robyn stepped away on slightly wobbly legs, smoothing her sweater as if she hadn’t just climbed a man like a tree in front of Mrs. C. and Mrs. Bishop, the town’s biggest gossips.

Tyler’s gaze met hers for a second.

Robyn cleared her throat and turned to the box.

The container was the size of a paperback, and tarnished over time. Inside was a cream-colored envelope with that looping handwriting on the front.

She paused, looking down at the letter.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Mayor Bloomfield asked.

“I don’t know. Are we allowed to?” Robyn asked the group. She remembered how adamant Mrs. C. had been about waiting to open the first clue.

“I don’t know, maybe we should wait… Then again, we can’t hold a meeting for every clue we find, can we?” Mrs. Bishop said.