Page 79 of The Secret Mistletoe Promise
There was a commotion outside, shouts and squeals beyond the kitchen window, and she got up, walked to the front door and yanked it open. She gasped.
Thick, fat snowflakes were drifting in a leisurely dance towards the ground, the pavement was turning white, and she was hit with the crisp, cold scent of snow. Without even stopping to put on her coat, Imogen stepped out into the winter wonderland.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
At first, Imogen thought the shouts and squeals were because the snow was falling, and it looked so beautiful against the picturesque village backdrop, smoke puffing from chimneys and the glowing fairy lights strung across buildings. But then she realized some of the shouts sounded panicked, and her steps faltered. Had there been an accident? Some kind of disaster? She remembered what Dexter had told her about Rae’s crash, his reluctance to let Lucy have a bike. She wouldn’t have tried to cycle in this, would she?
She grabbed her coat off the hook and hurried towards the centre of the village, blinking constantly against the whirling flakes, and was relieved to see Fiona, head down, locking the door of Hartley Country Apparel.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked.
Fiona turned around. ‘Excellent, you’re here. We need all hands on deck.’
‘For what? Is Dexter OK? Is Lucy?’
Fiona’s expression softened. ‘They’re fine, Imogen sweetheart.It’s Felix – he’s gone missing. Harry and Sophie can’t say when he escaped, but he’s a mostly white goat in a snowstorm, so finding him is getting more difficult by the minute.’
‘Don’t goats survive in sub-zero temperatures?’ Imogen tried to hide her relief. Nobody was hurt, and this was surely a fixable emergency.
‘I expect mountain goats do. However, Felix is a pampered goat, not a mountain goat, and Sophie found his jumper snagged on a low branch.’
Imogen chewed the inside of her cheek to stop herself laughing. ‘So he’s going to beextracold?’
Fiona narrowed her eyes. ‘When you’ve been here a bit longer, you will realize that Felix’s welfare is all of our problems. And he’s a diva, so he’s probably bleating his sad little heart out, snowed in somewhere and feeling sorry for himself. I would have laughed once, but not any more.’
She spoke so ominously that Imogen felt chastised. ‘I’m sorry. Tell me where to look, and—’
‘Ah, good. Join these three and take the route between Perpendicular Street and the start of the coastal path. It’s on the edge of the estate, so he might well be there. And you don’t even have a hat!’
‘Right, but—’
Fiona hurried off before she could finish, and Imogen turned to find Dexter, Lucy and Artichoke, all suitably attired for a snowstorm. Dexter’s expression was grim, and Lucy was close to tears. Artichoke was bundled up in her arms, only her twitching nose visible.
‘Oh Lucy,’ Imogen said. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Felix isgone!’ Lucy sobbed, and Imogen pulled her and her puppy into a hug.
‘We’re going to find him. He’ll be cold but fine, and then we can warm him up in front of a fire somewhere.’
‘With Artichoke?’
‘Of course with Artichoke. He’ll feel so much better when he’s hanging out with his partner in crime.’
‘They don’t do crime!’ Lucy wailed, and Imogen looked pleadingly at Dexter.
‘It’s OK, Luce, it’s just an expression. Let’s start covering our bit of the village. Are you sure you don’t want to stay inside? You and Artichoke will get really cold out here.’
‘I need to help,’ Lucy said.
This time Dexter looked pleadingly at Imogen, and she realized he didn’t want his daughter out here, when the snow was getting thicker, and she was upset.
Imogen crouched down in front of her. ‘Why don’t you go and see Birdie? I’m sure she’s got a spell or a ritual that will help bring Felix back, and she’ll need you for that.’
‘Really?’ Lucy sniffed. Imogen could see that she was shivering.
‘Absolutely. Come on.’ She took her hand and they walked back to Birdie’s, their progress slowed by the large flakes swirling and settling on the ground.
Birdie had finished her vegetable bundles and was making soup. She called over her shoulder, ‘Everything OK?’
