Page 100 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

“Sorry,” I blurted, pulling my hand back and sitting on it. “You go ahead.”

“You sure?” He swallowed hard.

“Yep. All you.” I pressed my leg harder on my hand, but it still felt tingly.

Sam picked up the paper and then smiled. “A candy cane scavenger hunt?”

Jo nodded excitedly. “Each riddle will lead you to a different place in town where you’ll have to find the next clue.”

“Mellon,” Sam whispered, a quote he commonly said from Lord of the Rings anytime we spoke about puzzles.

James inclined forward on his elbows and spoke to him. “Okay, I have to ask, which one is your favorite?”

“Return of the King, easily.” Sam shifted back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Except for the fact that they left out—”

“The scouring of the Shire!”

“I know!”

James threw his hands up. “I don’t know what bothers me most, that or how Faramir’s story gets totally overlooked compared to the book, but the movies are still amazing.”

“Unparalleled.” Sam tilted his head to the side before he picked up the basket of fries and held it out for James. A peace offering.

Apparently, all it took was Tolkien.

James took a fry before reading over the puzzles. “And the prize for the winner?” he asked.

“A free handcrafted ornament from Glass Works,” Jo said.

I pointed to the paper. “You already wrote the riddles? I could’ve helped with that.”

“I know.” Jo crossed her arms. “But once I got started, they just kinda poured out of me.”

“Well, how about I swing by the stores on Mistletoe Lane to let them know people will be coming—”

“Already did that, too.” Jo smiled. “I also printed the riddles on cute candy cane tags and attached them to candy canes.”

“So they just need to be hidden?” I asked.

Jo shook her head. “My dads and I did that early this morning after our sunrise yoga.”

I frowned. “I would’ve helped you.”

The boys began speaking enthusiastically about The Hobbit as Jo reached across the table and took my hand. “I know you could have.” She spoke softly. “But now you have time to, oh I dunno, pack for your trip to Italy?”

Packing for Italy while blasting Pentatonix did sound wonderful, but I couldn’t quite shake the heaviness that had settled in my stomach.

Did Jo not think I could do the job correctly?

Was I not smart enough to write a riddle?

I mean, I thought I was the writer of our group…

“G,” Jo said, snapping her fingers in front of me. “Stop overthinking.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.” She tilted her head, her expression softening. “I took charge because it was a last-minute idea that I wanted to happen tonight and because you don’t have to do everything in this town.” She took another fry and dunked it in her milkshake. “Now go home and have fun making lists and organizing. Any-one who wants to participate has to meet at the town square at eight p.m. tonight.”