Page 12 of Winter Beginnings
My gaze paused on a torn scrap of paper tucked between the slats. I gently withdrew it, trying not to tear the brittle edges as I realized it was part of a letter. I squinted, straining to decipher the faint ink: “Dearest Cyrus…our child… it’s better this way…”
Heart pounding, I realized this might confirm that Cyrus indeed had an heir out there, unacknowledged. If that child really existed, they could still be alive somewhere. The question was: who was he or she, and where were they?
I recalled that Bailey had told me how her client, Edna Twinkleberry, Wintervale’s own eccentric cat lady, had insisted, with no real documentation, that she was connected to the Barrington line. Could Edna be Cyrus’s child?
Tucking the scrap letter into my pocket, I took a steadying breath. This is big. If there was a genuine heir floating around, it might change everything. I wasn’t sure how that impacted the property itself. Legally, I owned it now, but maybe it still mattered to the legacy of Cyrus Barrington. Perhaps Edna’s story wasn’t far-fetched after all. Hoping to discover more information, I continued to search through the stack of papers and odds and ends the drawer contained, but didn’t find anything significant other than an envelope flap with words scrawled in different handwriting than the letter. It appeared to be a note to self:See Family Bible for family tree—remember to update.”
A family Bible? Was there a Barrington family Bible somewhere that contained a genealogical record? I looked through the items in the drawer again and proceeded to search through every nook and cranny in the room, even under thefurniture, but came up with nothing. Hopefully Cass and I hadn’t thrown out the tome by mistake.
Part of me itched to keep hunting until I found it, but the day’s chores loomed, and Cass was due soon. We had wallpaper to scrape, furniture to move, and a dog named Bramble to keep out of trouble. Still, I put the envelope in my pocket too for safekeeping, determined not to lose track of the small clues I’d discovered.
Downstairs, I heard Cass’s truck rumble up. Removing the pieces of paper from my jeans pocket, I placed them into a folder on the kitchen counter, deciding I’d at least mention my finding to him. He came in, stamping snow from his boots, looking bright-eyed and determined.
“Busy morning already?” he asked, spotting my dusty sleeves.
“Sort of,” I said, forcing a light laugh. “I stumbled on more of Cyrus’s papers…references to a Barrington family tree, apparently in some old Bible. And there’s a letter addressed to him with something about a baby, which is…interesting.”
He shrugged, not quite meeting my gaze. “Yeah? Well the old miser didn’t have any heirs, did he? At least none that could be proven.” His tone was clipped, and he fiddled with the cuff of his jacket.
I felt a flicker of disappointment. “I guess not.” Cass had only lived in Wintervale a few years, so he had no personal stake in Cyrus’s story. Still, I couldn’t shake the sense he bristled whenever the Barrington name arose. Maybe he just despised how Cyrus let such a grand estate – one that probably held real historical value—rot.
Taking a breath, I nodded toward the hallway. “No big deal. Let’s see if we can finish clearing that front parlor. Then maybe tackle the last of the wallpaper and talk about tiles later?”
“Sure,” he said, relief in his voice. “Lead the way.”
We spent the next two hours dragging old cabinets and busted chairs into the truck. My arms ached, but Cass’s steady presence kept me motivated. Whenever I teased him about his super strength, he flashed a crooked grin, responding with playful banter that made the dusty chaos more bearable.
Yet under my forced cheer, I felt the tug of caution. I was undeniably drawn to him—his easy confidence, that spark in his eyes—but the memory of how Julian’s secrets blindsided me loomed large.What if Cass could be hiding something too?A voice nagged. Another whispered,He’s done nothing but help. Don’t punish him for someone else’s sins.Torn, I resolved to stay cautious. Maybe then I wouldn’t be blindsided again.
We returned inside, dropping Bramble’s squeaky toy near the pup’s bed. Cass rolled his shoulders, exhaling. “That’s enough heavy lifting for a while. We deserve a break.”
I offered a half-smile, wiping sweat from my brow. “Definitely. Also…I’ve been thinking about everything you’ve done. None of this is in the contractor agreement, but you keep going the extra mile. Are we…I mean, is this heading into friendship territory?”
He laughed softly. “Friendship, at least. I don’t mind helping. This place deserves a decent shot at life, and you…” He paused, meeting my eyes. “You deserve the same.”
My cheeks warmed. Changing the subject, I forced a breezy tone. “I was thinking: let me cook you dinner tonight. My mom was Italian, and if I can do one thing, it’s a proper pasta. Sound good?”
A slow grin lit his face. “I love pasta. I’ll hold you to that.”
Relief and an odd flutter spread through me. “I’ll need time to straighten up, maybe grab groceries. If you want to shower and come back later, that’d be perfect.”
“Deal,” he said. “I can pick up a bottle of wine on the way. Red okay?”
“Absolutely. Also…” I nudged a stack of logs with my toe. “Any chance you can bring in some wood before you go? I’d love to have a fire going tonight. Feels like I haven’t had a moment to relax since I arrived.”
He tapped his fist lightly to his chest. “Your personal lumberjack, at your service. A good meal, wine, and a cozy fire for the lady.”
True to his word, Cass hauled in armfuls of logs, stacking them neatly near the hearth in the living room. Bramble hopped around his feet, tail wagging as if helping supervise. After the final armload, Cass dusted off his gloves and grabbed his coat, preparing to leave.
“I’ll swing by the store, find a decent red,” he said, giving me a quick smile. “See you in a couple hours?”
“Perfect. Thanks again.” As the door closed behind him, my pulse kicked up in that familiar swirl of excitement. Am I insane to be doing this? Making him a homemade meal? When I’d just resolved to stay cautious, keep my distance?
Shaking off lingering doubts, I realized I wanted this. Not every man was a liar. And look at Bailey—my very best friend who’d taken a crazy leap of faith over Christmas when she’d gotten snowed in with her ex in this very house—and ended up renewing a romance so passionate, she and Jacob were planning to relocate here this summer. If Bailey could trust love again after heartbreak, maybe I could too. This mansion clearly had itsown brand of magic. Maybe if I stopped letting fear control me, a bit of that magic could be mine, too.
With a steadying breath, I set about freshening the kitchen, clearing off counters. Then I dashed upstairs to change into something less paint-stained. Bramble nipped at my ankles as if urging me forward. “Yes, buddy, I’m going for it,” I told him, ruffling his ears. “We both deserve a chance, right?”
I tugged on a clean sweater, brushed back my hair, and grabbed my wallet. Time to shop for fresh basil, tomatoes, and good parmesan. My stomach fluttered at the thought of Cass returning with wine, me cooking sauce on the stove while the logs crackled in the fireplace. A cozy night that might—if we let it—break through the last walls around my heart.