Page 102 of Merry Mended Hearts

The Christmas holiday wasn’t yet over, but I couldn’t bear to be home, not when she was everywhere I looked. So I’d come to the inn earlier than ever before on Boxing Day.

I’d exerted myself in every task I could, every task that had needed looking into for a while now. The creak in the stairs leading to the attic. The leak in the kitchen ceiling.

I couldn’t up and leave the inn for good, not when my family had entrusted the cottage to me and when Junie relied so much on me to help her around here. So my next best option was to stay busy.

Several days had passed since I started these repairs. I found I still needed something to keep me occupied. Starting in here. We needed to change a few things.

Like maybe the glittering sweater covered in actual Christmas lights flashing across Junie’s torso. But I wasn’t going there.

“We’re taking down that tree.” I gestured to the eyesore with too much tulle in the corner of the inn’s living room.

Junie folded her arms. “No. We’re leaving in there until after New Years’.”

“No. It’s coming down. Christmas is over.”

“Only for you,” Junie argued. “Believe it or not, other people like to continue celebrating for a few more days. TheylikeChristmas, Boonie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? That’s you and me. Boonie and Junie.”

“Yeah, when we were ten.”

She glared up at me. “Lighten up.”

My frown only deepened. I turned my attention to the other part of the room that caused me irritation.

The radio stood on the table in all its accursed glory, looking innocent—though it was anything but.

“And don’t even get me started on this thing. I take it things are going well with you and Mason?”

Junie snorted and then her eyes went wide. “Wait, you’re serious? Where did that come from?”

“Why else would you have brought that radio back down here after I hid it?”

My tone was too gruff, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help being annoyed with her. What was wrong with some people? Women like Junie, especially, who were so enraptured by romance that they’d had the direction of their lives to be steered by some unknown source?

None of us had a clue why the radio started to play this year.

None of us knew who was behind it—not really.

Putting our trust in something like that was the worst kind of idiocy I could think of.

I was only glad I’d let Grace go. My stomach hardened at that thought, my brow furrowing, my thoughts darkening that much more.

Junie stilled. I felt her watching me for several seconds before I finally met her gaze, and when I did, I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, Juniper Harper.”

Her nostrils flared, and her face went red beneath her freckles. “Don’t call me Juniper Harper.”

“Why not? You’re resorting to ridiculous childish names. And thatisyour name.”

I turned away from her and back to the tree, fuming, trying to decide where to start. If I had my way, all of this would go in the garbage. We could forget the holiday altogether. Guests would find other reasons to stay here. Like the skiing. Or the horseback rides and the view in the summertime.

But Christmas was a big draw to this inn in particular, mostly because of the story my family had spouted all over since starting the place. People wanted to get in on the magic.

Junie’s voice sounded wounded and defensive. “I didn’t bring the radio back down here. I came down the next morning, and there it was. I assumed you moved it.”

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