Page 92 of Buried Secrets

“A bit,” Kaitlin admitted, accepting the warm cup gratefully. “I keep thinking someone’s going to realize I’m not qualified for this job.”

“Overqualified you mean. You’re the most experienced person that applied,” Matt assured her. “Mrs. Holloway’s been telling everyone who’ll listen that you’ve already improved the filing system more in two weeks than anyone managed in the past ten years.”

“She’s being generous.”

“She’s being honest. That woman doesn’t give false praise. Especially at her own expense.”

Mayor Hartwell tapped the microphone on the small stage, causing feedback to screech through the hall. “Sorry about that, folks. Could everyone gather around? We’ve got our traditional Founders’ Day program to get through, and I know you’re all eager to get to Dorothy MacLeod’s famous apple crisp before it disappears.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd as people moved closer to the stage. Kaitlin found herself swept along with the crowd, Matt’s steadying hand on her back.

“Before we begin tonight’s presentation,” the mayor continued, “I want to take a moment to introduce someone special to our community. Many of you have already met our new town clerk, Kaitlin Mathews, but tonight marks her first official Founders’ Day as one of us.”

Applause filled the room, and Kaitlin felt her cheeks flush as heads turned in her direction.

“Kaitlin came to our island earlier this year conducting historical research,” Mayor Hartwell continued. “In the process, she not only helped solve a murder case but also discovered that she belongs here with us. Her expertise in archives and historical preservation makes her exactly what our town office needs as we move into the future while honoring our past.”

More applause, warmer this time. Kaitlin spotted familiar faces throughout the crowd. Amy and Kelsey were near the front, Marissa and Ryan by the windows, even Jasper Holloway stood quietly in the back corner.

“Now, as is our tradition, we’ll hear from longtime resident Harold Jenkins about the founding of our lighthouse in 1748, followed by Sarah MacLeod’s presentation on the fishing families who first settled here.”

As the formal program began, Matt moved closer to Kaitlin, his presence solid and reassuring. She listened to the stories of her adoptive home, stories that felt personal now in a way they wouldn’t have when she’d first arrived as an outsider.

“Hard to believe it’s only been a few months since you first set foot in that records room,” Matt murmured in her ear during Harold’s lengthy description of the lighthouse construction.

“Feels like a lifetime,” Kaitlin whispered back. “A good lifetime.”

When the presentations ended and people began to mingle again, Kaitlin found herself surrounded by introductions and welcoming comments. Mrs. Peterson from the library wanted to discuss digitizing old newspapers. The president of the historical society had three different archive projects she hoped Kaitlin might help with. Two different mothers asked if she’d consider giving a presentation about local history to their children’s classes.

“I think you’re officially part of the community now,” Amy said, appearing with a plate of desserts. “When people start volunteering you for every civic project, that’s when you know you’ve been adopted.”

“Is that good or bad?” Kaitlin asked, accepting a piece of apple crisp.

“Both,” Amy replied with a grin. “Welcome to small-town life.”

Marissa and Ryan approached, both looking proud enough to burst.

“How does it feel to be official?” Ryan asked, giving his sister a one-armed hug.

“Overwhelming but wonderful,” Kaitlin replied honestly. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this was all a dream.”

“It’s real,” Marissa said softly, her eyes bright with tears she was trying not to shed. “You’re home, sweetheart. Really home.”

The simple word sent warmth flooding through her. After thirty-four years of feeling like she was only visiting other people’s lives, she finally had one of her own.

“Speaking of home,” Matt said, appearing beside them, “I wanted to ask you something, Kaitlin.”

“What’s that?”

“My lease on the cottage is up next month, and Mrs. Foster’s raising the rent again.” He paused, suddenly looking uncertain. “I was wondering if you might want to find a place together. Nothing too fast, just… maybe we could look at some of the year-round rentals that are coming available.”

Kaitlin felt her heart skip. Moving in together—it was a big step, but one that felt natural after everything they’d been through.

“I’d like that,” she said, watching relief flood his face. “Very much.”

“Really?”

“Really. Though I should warn you, I’m told I talk in my sleep and I have strong opinions about how books should be organized.”