The Holiday Secret. Kathryn Springer
the perfect place for a change of scenery, don’t you agree?” Ellery said lightly. For good measure, she punctuated the question with a bright smile.
Not only did Carter Bristow not smile back, some undefinable emotion crackled in his eyes, there and gone as swiftly as a flash of summer lightning.
“Enjoy your stay, then.”
Before Ellery could respond, he was gone. The door closed with a soft click behind him.
Ellery collapsed into the closest chair.
In spite of the fact that Carter Bristow had seemed all too ready to send her on her way—again—the urge to confide in him had been surprisingly strong.
He was a county deputy who lived five miles from Castle Falls. Wouldn’t he know the people who lived in the town on a personal basis as well as a professional one?
But Ellery had already broken one of the promises she’d made to Jameson.
As if on cue, her cell began to ring.
Ellery dragged in a breath, exhaled a silent prayer for strength, and reached for her phone.
Ignoring Jameson Ford’s call would only postpone the inevitable.
“I know it’s early,” the attorney said without preamble, “but I made some phone calls and found a private investigator who has a reputation for being thorough and discreet. I explained the situation and Dwayne Howard agreed to make the case his top priority.”
Ellery’s hand tightened around the phone. “That won’t be necessary.”
“You decided not to pursue the matter?” The relief in Jameson’s voice was almost palpable. Which only made what Ellery had to admit even more difficult.
“No...because I’m already here. In Castle Falls.”
Silence.
Ellery could almost see Jameson pacing the floor of his office the way he did the courtroom when new information called for a change in strategy.
“I thought we agreed it would be best not to rush into anything, Ellery,” he finally said. “You need more facts before you let these people into your life.”
By these people, Jameson meant the siblings that Ellery had been separated from for the past twenty-five years.
Brendan. Liam. Aiden.
Those were the signatures she’d seen on the document. Names without faces.
Brothers.
Ellery had been in Haiti, visiting one of the many orphanages the Marshall Foundation supported, when the Kane brothers had contacted the private agency that had handled her adoption. And no matter what happened in the future, Ellery’s life had changed the moment Jameson had given her a copy of their letter. A piece of her past that Ellery hadn’t even known was missing forty-eight hours ago.
Ordinarily, she would have taken Jameson’s advice. More than a respected attorney, Jameson Ford had been her father’s closest friend. But in this situation, Ellery knew she couldn’t sit back and wait for a private investigator to complete an investigation.
“I don’t want to read about them in a report.” Ellery wanted to see where they lived.
Wanted to see them.
“I understand,” he said. “But your parents insisted on a closed adoption to protect you. It could be they were afraid something like this would happen down the road.”
A familiar ache bloomed in Ellery’s chest at the mention of her parents.
She’d always known she was adopted. According to Ray and Candace Marshall, Ellery was a dream they’d carried in their hearts until the moment she’d become part of their lives. What they’d failed to reveal were the details surrounding Ellery’s birth—or the fact she’d once been part of a larger family.
“I know Mom and Dad thought they were acting in my best interests at the time,” Ellery said softly. “But I’m an adult now.”
“Exactly,” Jameson agreed. “And that’s why the timing of their letter troubles me. The Kanes could have reached out to you long before now.”
Before she’d inherited a sizable estate is what he really meant.
“You said that my brothers cited ‘unique circumstances’ when they contacted the adoption agency and asked that my records be opened,” Ellery reminded him.
“That doesn’t mean their motives are trustworthy,” Jameson muttered.
“I appreciate your concern...but do you trust me?”
Jameson’s sigh funneled through the speaker. “Of course I do. Most of the time you’re a very levelheaded young woman.”
Ellery smiled. “A levelheaded young woman with an advantage. I know my brothers’ names but they don’t know mine. I’ll observe, not engage,” she said. “You’ll get a full report when I come back and we’ll figure out the next step.”
“You promise you won’t tell anyone why you’re there?”
“I promise.”
“In a town that size, you won’t exactly blend in.”
Jameson still sounded skeptical, but Ellery sensed a softening in his attitude and pressed her advantage.
“I’m staying at an inn a few miles outside of Castle Falls,” she told him. “There’s a festival starting this weekend that draws people from outside the community, so I doubt anyone will notice one more visitor. It’s a good plan, don’t you think?”
“I think I made a mistake when I let you sit in on some of my closing arguments,” Jameson retorted.
It was, Ellery knew, as close to a blessing as she would get from the attorney.
Her smile expanded to a full-blown grin.
“I’ll see you soon, counselor.”
After dropping Bea off at school, Carter returned to the inn to get started on his to-do list.
He cut through the dining room to grab a pastry and had to duck to avoid a ball of mistletoe hanging from the chandelier. One he was sure hadn’t been there the day before.
Based on past experience, Carter knew it was only the beginning. Not a single nook or cranny escaped the assault of pine garlands, twinkling lights and shiny ornaments during the month of December.
Now that Bea was old enough to help her grandmother with the annual transformation, she was all-in. A herd of plastic ponies grazed next to the sheep in the nativity set on the coffee table and Carter could barely see outside through the flurry of paper snowflakes covering the windows.
It’s Jesus’s birthday, Daddy. And birthdays are special.
Because the star that Carter dutifully placed on top of the tree every year wasn’t half as bright as his daughter’s outlook on life, he kept his feelings about Christmas to himself.
Pretended that things like peace and joy weren’t far beyond his reach these days.
The double doors that separated the kitchen from the dining room swung open and his mom breezed in. With her dark blond hair woven into a neat braid and a pristine white apron over her navy wool sweater and jeans, there was nothing pretentious about Karen Bristow.
Most of the guests didn’t know that their innkeeper, who’d gained a reputation for serving mouthwatering comfort food, had studied at a prestigious culinary institute on the East Coast.
“You must