Page 35 of Wedding Bells in Silverwood

“Uh, yes.”What is he getting at?

“Do you know why?”

“No.”Why is he talking to me like I’m five?

“I caught one of them going through files in my office.”

“Oh.” Viola shook her head. “Jonas. Um, Mr. Brickman. I swear, that’s not—I wasn’t snooping. I’m not like that. I don’t actually care about … What I mean is, I don’t know why you’re giving me the third degree. I was simply trying to give you your mail.” She hadn’t meant for the last sentence to sound so aggressive, but she was upset at his insinuations.

Jonas studied her as he bit the inside of his cheek. “All right, then.”

Before she could respond, Jonas turned on his heel and marched away from her, closing the door behind him.

Viola pinched her lips together. Sharp aches exploded at her temples. She spun and stormed back toward the kitchen.

“You’re welcome, I guess,” she muttered.

It had already been a long, tiresome day, and now Jonas Brickman had just worsened it. All she wanted was to go home and forget he even existed.

Chapter Twelve

Viola shut off the car engine and heard her phone buzz. Before checking her notification, she removed her gloves and shoved them in her coat pockets.

Sina: Hey, big sis. What’s up?

Viola: About to earn my halo. I’m at the Pine Valley soup kitchen preparing to serve some hungry souls.

Sina: I’m pretty confident you’ve already earned your halo, but good on you.

Viola: Thanks. I’m about to go in.

Sina: Do a good job. You know how I feel about wasting food, so make sure to serve big portions.

Viola stuck her phone in her purse and headed to the volunteer entrance of the building. Flurries drifted around her, and Christmas music floated out from the establishment.

This was the remedy she required. After numerous run-ins with Jonas, she wanted to clear her mind and open her heart to the community. She’d woken up with the longing to recapture the holiday spirit. Jonas was a Grinch, and Viola needed to distance herself from that energy.

The back door to the kitchen was propped ajar with a small, wooden wedge. Viola pulled the door open and found a bustle of activity. A dozen people in aprons moved about the kitchen like clockwork. She scoped the area, trying to figure out who was in charge. Her gaze landed on a familiar face. Rachel scurried about the kitchen, placing jars on shelves and moving empty trays to the dishwashing station. Her hair was twisted into a messy bun atop her head.

“Rachel.” Viola waited for a man carrying a metal container of cooked potatoes to pass before she approached.

“Hey, Viola.” Rachel added more rolls to the tray on the counter in front of her. “I didn’t know you were volunteering tonight.”

“Yeah. You know, the season of giving.”

“That’s great.”

Viola glanced around. “So, where am I needed? Do I have to check in with anyone?”

“Consider yourself checked in.” Rachel gestured to the left with her chin. “A couple of volunteers who’ve been here a few hours are leaving soon. They’re out front on the serving line.”

“Okay, you got it.”

“I’ll go out with you and show you where.” Rachel placed the last of the rolls on the tray. “Have you done this before?”

“Yes, I have. But I don’t mind a refresher.”

“You can store your stuff in the back room. Just pick any of the free lockers.”

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