A Christmas to Cherish (A Festive Christmas #4)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

“ A re you sure you don’t want me to stay home with you?”

Emma shook her head and tucked the blanket tighter around her legs. “I’m sure. I’m just feeling a little tired; that’s all.”

Marie frowned and touched Emma’s cool forehead. “Well, I made some of your grandma Rose’s flu recipe in case you start to feel bad. It’s in a thermos on the counter, so it’ll stay nice and hot all day.”

Emma offered her mom a small smile. “Thank you.”

Marie lingered a while longer, fluffing up pillows and bringing out plates of cookies. When her phone rang again, she gave Emma a quick hug and raced out the door. A short while later, Henry gave her a gruff pat on the hand and disappeared out the back door. Jules had left an hour later, having volunteered to help with the Christmas Decorating Committee, so Emma sighed and enjoyed the silence around her.

She pointed the remote at the TV above the fireplace and tried to focus on the plot of the series, where the big city girl had to fly back home to save her family’s ranch from the threat of foreclosure.

Half an hour later, when she realized she had no idea what was happening, she threw the blanket off and padded upstairs to the attic. After rifling through a few more of the boxes and coming up empty-handed, she tried to ignore the pit of disappointment in her stomach. Then, she paced the second-floor landing, frowning when she stood in the doorway to her old room, the lavender-colored wallpaper peeling to reveal the plaster underneath.

There were still a few holes in the wall where she’d hung up pictures over the years, and she could’ve sworn she saw the vague outline of a few posters.

If her parents really wanted her out of their lives, why was her room still preserved?

It felt like a shrine to the kind of life she could’ve had—the kind of life they’d dreamed up for her.

With a slight shake of her head, Emma turned away and shuffled back downstairs. In the kitchen, she rummaged through the fridge, sniffing through one container after the next. She pulled out a loaf of bread, some leftover cheese and turkey, and shoved it in the microwave. While she waited, she drummed her fingers against the marble counter and turned over everything she knew.

It still didn’t make sense.

First, it was the news of the foreclosure.

Then, it was finding out her mother had been sick, sick enough that it appeared to have sidelined her career.

Now, she was realizing her grandfather had kept secrets too

The book looked untouched and undisturbed by time, and she wondered if it was because her father hadn’t found it yet.

Was it a family curse she was doomed to pass on?

When the microwave beeped, Emma pressed a button and drifted out of the kitchen. She stood in front of her father’s study for a long time, trying to talk herself out of going in. Squaring her shoulders, she twisted the knob and breathed a sigh of relief when it swung open without the need for her to pick the lock. Inside, the room revealed a mahogany, rectangular-shaped desk, a telescope set up next to the window, and rows upon rows of books scattered on a shelf next to a fireplace.

The fibers of the carpet tickled her bare feet as she held her breath and crept inside.

Emma flipped through a few maps and charts, all of them marked with her father’s cursive handwriting. Then, she sat down behind his desk and idly rummaged through the drawers, listening carefully as she did. As soon as she stopped at the last drawer, which wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she yanked, she threaded two fingers through her hair and pulled out a clip.

Her heart raced as she unlocked the drawer and took out a frayed, brown folder with old letters and photographs shoved inside. Frowning, she carefully placed the folder on her father’s desk and paused to flick on the lamp. All of the pictures were of her grandfather in an army green uniform with piping—a helmet perched on his head and a grim look in his eyes.

Emma studied the dog tags around his neck, and her frown deepened.

Why was her father hiding pictures of her grandfather in full World War II regalia?

She was still peering at the photographs and trying to make sense of the smudged ink on some of the older letters when she heard a car outside. Emma’s breath hitched in her throat as she shoved everything back into the folder, slammed the drawer shut, and flicked off the lamp. Her hands were trembling as she hid the folder under her robe and darted out of the study. Then, she raced down the hallway and up the stairs to her room.

Once she was safely under the covers, the front door clicked open, and Jules’s voice drifted up. Emma pushed the folder underneath the bed and flipped onto her back, praying her daughter wouldn’t be able to hear the tremor in her voice.

The door creaked open, and Jules stuck her head in, her cheeks flush with color and smelling like freshly fallen snow. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Emma pushed herself up on her elbows and forced a smile to her lips. “How’s the decorating committee?”

Jules pushed the door open the rest of the way and made a face. “Everyone has a lot of strong opinions, but I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement. I just thought I’d check in.”

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” Emma adjusted the covers around her and sighed. “I think being back here is just catching up to me is all.”

Jules gave her a pointed look. “You can always talk to me, you know. Anyway, I thought I’d ask if you wanted to try taking a Christmas picture with Grandma and Grandpa later. We haven’t had one of those in ages.”

Emma bit down on her bottom lip and nodded. “Sure.”

Jules crossed over to hug her and lingered.

She waited for the car to drive away. Then, Emma threw the covers off and yanked on a pair of jeans and a heavy pullover. In her car, she turned up the heat and kept sneaking glances at the folder laid out on the passenger seat. She pulled up into an empty spot across the street from the library and raced out, hair whipping behind her. Her eyes were burning, and her teeth were chattering when she stepped in, the smell of sugar, cinnamon, and ginger slamming into her.

Had someone snuck some gingerbread cookies in, or were the librarians using some new air freshener?

She liked that it smelled different every time she walked in, but each scent, without fail, was warm and inviting, like a nice, cozy fireplace beckoning her forward.

Emma exhaled and spotted Marley in the back, organizing a few of the books while she tapped her feet to some unheard melody.

Marley’s eyes widened when Emma wrapped a hand around her wrist and tugged her toward a computer station in the back. “Whoa, there, where’s the fire?”

Emma stopped in front of a station in the back and glanced around. “I have to show you something I found.”

Marley motioned for her to continue.

Emma threw the folder onto the desk and ran a hand over her face. “I found these in my father’s study. I’m not even sure why he had them in a locked drawer. We all know Grandpa was in the war and that he was a cryptographer.”

Marley’s mouth fell open as she traced the edges of the papers slowly, reverently. “He used to decrypt things for the Army? That’s so cool.”

Emma shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I can’t make out the handwriting, but he mentions something about an eclipse project in one of his letters.”

Marley withdrew her hand as if she’d been zapped. “Letters? Do you have letters he wrote during his time in the war? Emma, those belong in a museum. Not in a library.”

“I’m not the one who had them locked up.” Emma pulled a chair out with a screech and sank into it. “I really need your help figuring this out because if I’m right, and this is what I think it is…”

Marley looked up at her, and she let out a low whistle. “Then the Sullivan family treasure might be real.”

Emma nodded. “Exactly.”

“If we’re going to handle these, we need gloves.”

Her friend said something else under her breath and disappeared. She returned with a box of gloves and made Emma snap on a pair before they laid out the letters on the desk.

Marley’s dark eyes brimmed with excitement as she skimmed through the papers, occasionally muttering to herself. “You’re right. He does mention something about an eclipse and your family. I took this online cryptography course. I wasn’t very good, but I think that’s what he’s saying.”

Emma frowned. “Why write it in code though? Was he afraid someone was going to find out?”

Marley nodded and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Probably. Any kind of treasure he found would’ve been worth something. Now, it’ll probably be worth a lot more.”

Emma was itching with excitement.

Half of her was tempted to get her entire family down there, but the other half of her knew she couldn’t bring the truth to light just yet.

Not until she knew what she was dealing with.

The last thing she wanted was to have more issues to deal with, and she was fairly certain breaking into her father’s locked drawer wasn’t going to go over well.

Especially with nothing to show for it.

Marley pulled another chair over, and her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. “Okay, let me see if I can find any references online. Something like this wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. Also, an old friend of mine works at a university. He might be able to point us in the right direction.”

Emma blew out a breath and leaned back in her chair. “Okay, but can you make sure he keeps it to himself? I don’t want word of this to spread just yet.”

Not when she hadn’t had a chance to bring her family into the fold.

Hours later, they were still no closer to finding any answers, and Emma’s legs were growing stiff. She stood up to stretch, caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall, and paled. “I’ve got to go. Jules is going to kill me if I’m late.”

“I’ll call you if I find anything,” Marley said to her retreating back.

As carefully as possible, Emma picked up the folder, with papers sticking out on all ends, and ran to the door. In the car, she shoved the folder into the glove compartment and pulled the seat belt over her chest. She pressed down on the gas and breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled up to her parents’ house a short while later.

Her mother and father were already dressed in matching red-and-green sweaters and sitting in front of the fireplace. Jules handed Emma an outfit and gave her a pointed look when she walked in.

“I went out for some air,” Emma mumbled under her breath. “Didn’t want to disturb anyone.”

Jules waved her comment away. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Emma came out of the guest bathroom a short while later and stood on the other side of the fireplace while Jules tinkered with the camera.

“Okay, everybody. Big smiles.”

Emma’s parents sat side by side in front of the tree while Emma and Jules stood on either side, flanking them.

The camera flashed, momentarily blinding Emma.

“Would you stop looking at your watch?” Marie hissed, pausing to give her husband a withering look. “They rarely come to visit, and you’re going to ruin it.”

“It’s not my fault they sprung this on us last minute. I have other things to do.”

Marie rose to her feet and narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine, we’re done here. I’m sure the picture you took is enough, sweetheart.”

Jules’s smile dimmed as her grandparents stalked off to opposite sides of the house and slammed their doors shut. Her lower lip trembled as Emma helped her put away the camera, and the two of them sat down on the couch while a movie played in the background. In spite of several attempts to get her to talk, Jules remained tight-lipped and kept staring at the TV, as if it held all of the answers in the world. When Jules fell asleep with her head in Emma’s lap, she ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair and wondered what to do.

She wished she knew how to make everything with her parents better, how to reach across the void and make them see her, the real her—for both their sakes.