Page 29 of The Mistletoe Wish

They wanted her to be part of their family.

Edwina wasn’t done with her yet. She gave the hand she held a gentle tug. “You could have more if you can find the courage. That hottie Darim and his lovely daughter could be yours too. All you have to do is give it your best shot. You have nothing to lose but your pride. And everything to gain.” She winked. “I just gave the same advice to that archaeologist fellow, Ernest Callen. Never saw a man move so fast in my life. He almost fell over his own feet in his haste to find Fatima.”

Sara fastened on the side topic as if it was a life jacket and she was drowning. “Fatima? You mean Natalie’s friend and Darim’s sister …?”

“Looks like it.” Triumph rang clear in Edwina’s smug tones. “Well? Hadn’t you better get moving yourself?”

“I was going to but … I’m ashamed. What if …?” blurted Sara.

“Oh, child. We’ve all done things we’d prefer to forget, or wish had never happened. If he can’t look past that then it wasn’t meant to be. Now, come here.” Edwina dropped the hand she held and folded Sara in her arms.

As she returned the hug, Sara couldn’t help noticing how small and thin the old lady was – not surprising after she’d nearly died a few months ago when a desperate man kidnapped her and held her hostage. However, she’d been found in time. Although her physical recovery had a long way to go before she was back to her former healthy self, nothing dampened Edwina Lette’s spirits.

Heart feeling as if it would burst, Sara drew away.

“Be honest. With what you did and why. Then be honest with how you feel. Now, I had better get cracking. Where did I put my crystal ball?” Edwina began to rummage in a plastic tub.

Boris uttered a sharp yap, as if unhappy to be ignored.

“There’s a good boy.” Eyes blurred, Sara bent down and rubbed his cute floppy ears.

Edwina scooped up a pile of cushions and chucked them inside the tent, before following suit with the tub.

Picking up the basket, Sara carried Boris inside and laid him carefully next to the small boho table while the other woman organized her tarot cards and crystal ball.

“Anything else you need help with?” She sniffed and blew her nose with the tissue before balling it up and chucking into a rubbish bin.

“Nope. All good. See you later. Don’t forget to join us for lunch. I won’t ask any questions.” Ms. Lette settled onto a cushion and plopped Boris onto her lap. “And in my opinion, if he’s got any sense there is no way he could resist you and your red dress.”

A second later, Sara found herself standing outside the purple tent. Her head whirled while her pulse thrummed hard and fast through her body energising every single atom she possessed.

Darim.

No more excuses. She had to find him.

Had to tell him.

Had to hope that her silly mistletoe wish would come true.

And then she would accept whatever outcome the universe chose to bestow.

Feeling as if she was going to her execution, Sara rounded the dunking stand and came face to face with Darim. He was alone.

The grim expression on a face filled with purpose sent a rush of burning heat that dissolved her insides to mush.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Shifting her hold on her small toolbox, she flittered her gaze around at the milling crowd. Laughter. Squeals. Excited conversations. Couples holding hands. Families bunched together smiling. They all flowed like so much white noise past her ears.

Desperate to prolong the moment of her confession, she asked, “Where’s Skye?”

“She’s with her cousins and keeping an eye on the llamas.”

“And Celeste? Is she … has she gone?”

“Yes. Thank heavens. I paid for an uber to drive her out of town the morning after the concert.”

Sara tilted her head, mulling over his words. “She didn’t take Skye then?”

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