A Wild Goose Chase Christmas: Quilts of Love Series (10 page)

By now, you’ve probably tried to claim the quilt, and you must be wondering if I was senile. I assure you, I am perfectly in control of all my faculties. Please trust that I have a reason for everything I have done and will do.

Izzy and Max looked at each other, and she knew they were thinking the same thing: Gran had more surprises in store.

Dear boy, you have blessed me with your presence. You understand the importance of family, which is why I know you will understand my decision to give the quilt to my granddaughter. You and Izzy have more in common than you know. You both have mending to do. Together, I’m certain the two of you can discover the treasure of the Wild Goose Chase.

Max faltered as his voice cracked and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s it.” He folded the paper and tucked it back in the envelope. “She signed it ‘With love.’”

Izzy hadn’t meant to get emotional. But the cryptic message rubbed against her already raw nerves. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to cry in front of Max again. But a moment later, she felt something being pressed into her hand. Another of Max’s handkerchiefs. That stemmed the flow of tears faster than anything else could.

“Thanks.” She smiled and handed it back to him. “I’m OK this time.”

He tucked it back into his jacket. “You know where it is if you need it. Tara,” he said to his assistant. “Would you give us some privacy, please?”

“Sure thing.” She nodded and left the room.

When the door clicked shut, Max turned to Izzy. “There’s something else in here.”

“What?”

He reached into the deep FedEx envelope and produced a triangular piece of dark brown fabric sprinkled with yellow polka dots so tiny they resembled pin pricks. “Does this look familiar?”

She took it from him and turned it over, rubbing it between her fingers. “The pattern doesn’t, no. But the shape does.” She handed it back to him. “It’s just like the pieces in the Wild Goose Chase.”

As he stared at the triangle his jaw tightened and the furrow between his brows deepened. Izzy had an overwhelming desire to take his hands in hers and tell him everything would be all right. It was ridiculous on a number of levels, not the least of which was she didn’t even know what was wrong, so she couldn’t possibly promise to fix it. But she wanted to fix it. She wanted to erase the lines of worry that pulled at his face and bring a sparkle back to his eyes. Maybe, if he knew he wasn’t alone, he would feel better.

“She sent a piece to me, too.”

His eyebrows lifted, but not in the burden-lifted way she’d hoped. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“I didn’t think it was important. She gave my pastor a box to give me and it was in there.”

“Just the quilt piece?”

“No. It was wrapped around a necklace. And there was a letter too.”

“None of this makes sense.” Max paced around the room as if sheer force of movement could help him solve the puzzle. “Why would she send us both pieces of fabric that look like they came from the quilt?”

“I’m certain they’re not from the quilt. If they were, they’d show more wear. At the very least, there’d be stitch marks.”

“That’s true. But in the letter, she said we both have mending to do. What if the quilt was damaged and she wanted us to repair it?”

Izzy shook her head. “If that were the case, she could have sent the pieces to you. Why send one to each of us?”

“It seems she wanted us to work together.”

If that’s what Gran wanted, then she had achieved her goal. “OK, then what do we do next?”

“We need to take a look at the quilt.”

“Now?” The question was unnecessary because he’d already removed his jacket from the coatrack in the corner.

“Now.” He must have realized how pushy he sounded, because he took a literal step backward. “If it’s OK with you, I’d like to come to your home to look at the quilt. And I’d like to see the letter Mrs. Randolph sent you.”

All Izzy really wanted to do was spend a quiet night curled up in front of the fireplace with a good book. But with Mom at home, there was no chance of that happening.

“You can come over. I can’t promise you my mother will be happy to have company though.”

“Maybe she’ll be asleep.”

“I should be so lucky. Come on.” She headed for the door, motioning for him to follow.

Izzy waited on the porch as Max parked his car on the street. It probably would have been better to go in first and make sure it was safe to bring him inside but she wanted to put off entering the house as long as possible.

She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling the crisp fall air. Somewhere, a lone cricket chirped, bidding the sun goodnight and welcoming the evening. It was all so peaceful. And so temporary.

At the sound of a car door slamming, she opened her eyes. Max walked up the steep driveway, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets. Stopping at the bottom of the porch steps, he tilted his head back, examining the house.

“This place is something else,” he said. “How old is it?”

“Over a hundred years.”

“I’ll bet it could tell some pretty amazing stories.”

“And every one of them about my family. Gran’s in-laws built the house, then she and Grandpa inherited it.”

Max climbed the stairs, stopping at the top to run his hand along the gray stone half-wall that enclosed the porch. “Is it yours now?”

Izzy nodded. “I’d lived here with Gran for years anyway. When she decided to move to Vibrant Vistas, she had my name put on the deed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What did your mother say about that?”

“I’ll spare you the details. Let’s just say it gave her one more thing to add to my list of transgressions.”

Max’s face softened and Izzy wished she could snatch back her words. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her. Hoping to erase that emotion, she rushed on. “After I graduated college, Gran’s health started going downhill, so she invited me to move in with her.”

“Not a lot of people would do that.”

“It wasn’t a totally selfless decision. I came to help her but it also saved me money. Turns out it was the best decision of my life. We made a lot of memories here.” Her voice caught in her throat and a thousand pinpricks assaulted her nose. “So to
answer your question, yes. This is a house with lots of stories. And most of them are wonderful.”

Max stepped forward, his eyes reflecting nothing close to pity. “Am I going to have to offer you my handkerchief again?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head sharply, fighting against the moistness in her eyes. “I don’t know why I keep doing this. I’m not a crier. But every time I’m around you, I turn into a soggy mess.”

One corner of his mouth slid up into a teasing grin. “I certainly hope I don’t move you to tears.”

Far from it. With one knuckle, Izzy dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “It’s not you. It’s Gran.”

Max bobbed his head, his expression serious. “Your grandmother was quite a woman. I miss her, too, but it’s good to be able to talk about her, to share her memory with someone.”

“It is.”

“I think she knew we’d need each other.”

Max’s hand rested on her shoulder and Izzy froze. The conversation had taken quite a personal turn. It was unexpected. It was a little scary. And it was intriguing.

“What do you mean?” she asked through lips that were suddenly dry.

“I keep wondering why she promised the quilt to both of us. She obviously wanted us to work together. But I think she knew you’d need someone to talk to, someone to support you.”

She looked into his eyes. “Is that the answer to the question?”

“What question?”

“At the funeral, in the prayer garden. I asked why you were being so nice to me. Is that why? Because Gran wanted you to?”

His hand moved to the base of her neck, his fingers tangling into her hair. “I admit, we got off to a rocky start. But I’m finding it impossible not to be nice to you.”

He leaned in closer, and for one breath-robbing moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Then the porch light flashed on, rapid-fire barks exploded from inside the house, and the front door rattled. She and Max jumped away from each other. A moment later, Brandon stepped out onto the porch.

“It’s about time you got back,” he said to Izzy. “I didn’t expect you to bring someone with you.” He addressed Max. “Have we met?”

“I’m Max—”

“From the hospital. Right.” His tone made it clear he was done with Max and he turned back to Izzy. “We’ve got to talk. Come on.”

“Brandon, you’re being rude.” Izzy’s cheeks, already burning from her interrupted moment with Max, flamed hotter at her brother’s lack of manners. “I invited Max over for a reason. Whatever you have to talk to me about can wait.”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that valuable item you two were talking about at the hospital, would it?”

Max drew his shoulders back. “Yes, it does.”

“Then I have a feeling we all want to talk about the same thing.” Brandon headed into the house and called back to them. “Both of you, come in.”

“I’m sorry about this,” Izzy said to Max.

He ducked his head for a moment. “No need to be sorry. I can’t wait to find out what’s got him so worked up.”

Izzy was pretty sure once they got inside and Brandon started talking, Max would wish he had waited longer.

11

B
randon might be rude and boorish, but right now Max felt like he owed him one. If not for his timely interruption, Max would have kissed Izzy.

What was wrong with him? Max had never been one to rush into things, especially where relationships were concerned. He couldn’t deny his attraction to Izzy. During the short time he’d known her, she’d worked her way under his skin. But their relationship, if you could call it that, was largely professional. They hadn’t even gone on a date. What made him think he had any right to kiss her?

Of course, she hadn’t objected when he drew closer. If anything, she’d seemed as immersed in the moment as he was. But that could just be because of her heightened emotional state. No matter how strong she acted, he had to remember she was in a raw, fragile place. To pursue anything deeper or more personal right now would be taking advantage of her.

Blowing out a deep breath, Max followed her into the house. Brandon stood to one side; her mother lay across the couch, her right arm and leg propped up by a variety of pillows. And Izzy
faced them, one fist planted on her hip while she motioned wildly with the other hand.

“What made you think you could go through my stuff while I was gone?” Her voice was unfamiliar, with a hard, angry edge. This was a side of Izzy he hadn’t seen before.

Max looked in the direction she pointed, and understood. Dumped on an easy chair was the Wild Goose Chase quilt. Most of it was balled up on the seat, but the edges hung over the side, trailing on the floor. A spark ignited in his gut. He wanted to share a few choice words with Brandon, but he held back. This was Izzy’s home, it was her fight, and she needed to take the lead.

For his part, Brandon was unfazed by his sister’s anger. “I think a better question is, why are you hiding things from me and Mom?”

“I wasn’t hiding anything. The quilt was in my room.”

Janice shifted on the couch. “But you never told us about it.

Just like you never told me about the necklace.”

Izzy’s hands fells to her sides and her shoulders slumped. “Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the necklace. But I didn’t keep it a secret, either.” She glanced at Brandon. “Is that what this is all about? Did she tell you to snoop in my room to see what else you could find?”

Brandon sneered. “No. The snooping was all my idea.”

Max didn’t enjoy being an audience to their family drama. The best thing would be if he excused himself right now. But he’d come there to examine the quilt for damage, a task that was even more important now that he knew Brandon had been manhandling it.

Toenails clicked on the floor and Max caught sight of Izzy’s dog headed straight for the quilt. The terrier stopped, then looked up at Max. It was like the dog dared Max to stop him.

“Why?” Izzy asked Brandon. “What were you looking for?”

The dog took another step. Max locked eyes with him.

Brandon shrugged. “You never did tell me what the valuable thing was that you talked about at the hospital. So I decided to find out for myself.”

“It was a gift from Gran.” Exhaustion colored Izzy’s words. “That’s what makes it valuable.”

Brandon shook his head. “Either you’re playing stupid or you’re naive.”

The insult got Max’s attention and he took his eyes off the dog. Max opened his mouth to defend Izzy but stopped short at the sound of clattering nails on the wood. The dog had reached his destination.

“No!” It took two large steps for Max to get to the dog and scoop him off the quilt. The terrier yapped up a storm. In a second, Izzy was at his side.

“Et tu, Bogie?” She looked up at Max as she removed the squirming ball of fur from his arms. “Sorry about that.”

Brandon jerked his chin toward Max. “He knows just how valuable the quilt is. Don’t you?”