The Holiday Secret. Kathryn Springer

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       Chapter Four

      The next day, Carter spent the majority of his time in the heated garage, fixing the ancient plow that Karen had inherited when she’d bought the inn. The thing was as temperamental as an old mule, but there wasn’t enough money in the budget to replace it, so Carter did his best to coax the engine to life after every snow.

      On his way out, he grabbed the bucket of salt by the door. Making sure the sidewalk didn’t double as a skating rink was the last item on his to-do list for the day.

      A flash of color in the center of the yard caught Carter’s eye and he walked over to investigate.

      Bea had informed him that she was going to make a snow “horse” after school, but it had undergone a transformation since the last time Carter had seen it. The snow sculpture now boasted button eyes, a shaggy white mane recycled from the head of a dust mop and reins fashioned from a scarf that looked as if it had been spun from cotton candy.

      Carter wasn’t all that savvy when it came to fashion, but thanks to Jennifer’s high-end taste in clothing, he could tell the difference between wool and cashmere.

      Considering there were only two female guests in residence at the moment, he had a pretty strong hunch who the scarf belonged to.

      How it had ended up in Bea’s possession, though, was a mystery.

      In his mind’s eye, Carter saw his daughter blithely skipping across yet another invisible boundary. There were two rows of hooks in the back hallway, one designated for family and one for guests, but to a five-year-old, a scarf was a scarf. Especially when said five-year-old was in a hurry. Or when the article of clothing that caught her eye happened to be in her favorite shade of pink.

      Carter wasn’t completely sure if either theory was correct, but there was one thing he did know. If he didn’t remove the scarf before the temperature plummeted, it would be permanently welded to Bea’s snow horse come morning.

      Carter’s careful attempt to loosen it stirred a hint of jasmine into the night air, providing yet another clue about the owner’s identity.

      The temptation to place the scarf on one of the hooks in the hallway and go about his business was strong. But if Bea had taken it without permission, an apology might be in order, too.

      He took the stairs two at a time to the second floor, rapped on Ellery’s door and waited. And waited some more.

      It suddenly occurred to Carter that he hadn’t seen Ellery all day. A thin layer of snow still blanketed the Lexus, which meant she hadn’t driven into Castle Falls.

       Feel free to explore the grounds.

      His mom extended the same offer to all the guests, but Carter couldn’t imagine Ellery Marshall taking her up on it, let alone helping herself to one of the extra pairs of snowshoes or skis and striking out on her own.

      Then again, this was the woman who’d stopped along the road during a snowstorm to take a picture of a bald eagle.

      Karen Bristow kept a motherly eye on everyone who stayed under her roof, so it was possible she would know where Ellery was.

      Knowing his mom usually prepped for breakfast this time of the day, Carter retraced his steps to the first floor and walked into the kitchen.

      “Have you...” The rest of the sentence snagged in Carter’s throat.

      Because Ellery Marshall sat on a stool at the butcher block island, one foot tapping to the lively beat of “Sleigh Ride,” both hands wrapped around a coffee mug.

      His coffee mug.