Page 128 of First Bride to Fall
He pulled up the lid, and there was tissue inside. He had to pry it back to find what was underneath.
Wait.
Grant’s heart thumped.
It was that hat.
He picked it up in his hands, and his fingers shook. But why would she…?
His mind had captured a snapshot of her saying she was making it for somebody special.
Hang on.
All that time at his cabin, she’d been knitting this for him?
There was a note underneath. No. It was a business card from Nell’s Etsy shop. He was impressed she was official enough to have one. She called her store “Nell’s Knits,” and there was a URL on the card. He flipped it over, and she’d written a note on the back in pen.
For Grant,
Happy Birthday!
Love,
Nell
He was stunned and touched.
But even more than that, his bruised heart felt like it was bleeding.
Why had she done this? What did it mean?
He grabbed his laptop from nearby and pulled up her site. She didn’t have a ton for sale at the moment, but there was a string of reviews for items she’d made in the past. Wait. That was weird. Most of them she’d finished and sold in September, right around his birthday.
He stared down at his hat and then back at the screen, clicking through the different reviews with his mouse. All were five-star raves about quality and prompt delivery. She’d made three scarves, a few ties, a cardigan, a vest, a throw blanket, some mittens, a couple of hats…Click. Click. Click.
He picked up the hat, having a funny feeling about the former items in her store.
Nell had been the shy girl in high school. The bookworm. He’d barely know her at all until she signed up for his hike. Was it possible—or even probable—that she’d always felt something that went beyond platonic friendship for him? A secret crush? A longing?
A snippet of her conversation came back to him from yesterday evening.
“I really care about you.” she’d said. “I always have. For a really long time—probably longer than you know.”
Grant’s world whipped into focus.
And then he knew.
This was that sign he’d told Jordan about. The one he’d been hoping for.
He had to see her.
Grant grabbed the hat and his jacket from his coat closet and then nabbed his wallet and keys, heading out the door. Then he raced down the steps and to his SUV.
Ten minutes later, he pounded on Nell’s front door. It was still dark out, with the blanket of night gently lifting. If she was there, she should be up and getting ready for work. Her car was in the drive, but no lights shone inside her cottage. Grant huffed and dashed back to his SUV, his pulse racing. She couldn’t have left town already. Maybe she was at the café.
When he got to Bearberry Brews, they’d not yet opened for the day.
“I’m sorry,” Lucas said when he came in. “We’re not— Oh. Hey.”
