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“Let me see,” Zara asked.

I showed it to her, and she looked less than impressed, but informed me that building on the house was started in 1785 and finished in 1789.

“You are just a fount of information, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She was dead serious.

Ask a stupid question, Brooke. Zara was as hilarious as she was adorable.

As I looked around at the beautiful room I could finally appreciate what drew my parents to leave the city and come to places like Hallborough for a getaway. I also found it ironic that they had died on one of their country weekends away, but I’d always taken comfort in the fact they were together an

d doing something they enjoyed immensely. “Can you check the registry for their names?” I asked Hannah hopefully.

“Of course, but even better are the photo albums. They may have a picture in one of the albums. Let’s take a look, shall we?” She pulled out two leather volumes and brought them to the desk. “These are the years you mentioned, please have a look through.” She gestured to the books on the counter.

I approached carefully, almost afraid to be disappointed, but too curious not to look. “You take pictures of your guests? I asked as I opened the first book.

“Only if they want to, of course, but most do. It’s a tradition to take a Polaroid or two and make a page in the book with a message or whatever they want to share with other guests about their stay. The Polaroid stays with the book, but most everyone gets a picture of the finished page with their mobile, so they can take it with them too.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” I whispered, afraid to hope I might see a picture of the two people I still missed on a daily basis.

I turned pages slowly, reading the messages and seeing the happy smiles of lovers and friends and families who had all come to this place a decade ago on their travels from somewhere else.

I finished the first book and closed it before handing it back to Hannah who placed it back on the shelf.

“Feel free to look through any others if you’d like. The year is written on the spine.” She gave me a hug and said, “We’re so happy you and Caleb are here with us this year.”

“Thank you,” I managed to get out before my throat seized up.

“I’m going to take this little monkey to the kitchen and leave you to it. Come find us if you need anything at all,” she said gently, probably sensing that I was getting emotional. Zara gave me a sweet little wave as she left with her mum.

Once I was alone, I took the second book to a chair by the window and sat. For a few moments I just looked out at the beauty of the grounds covered in snow before I opened the photo album and started looking at pages.

Seven page-turns into the book and there they were. In life…in color…in a picture I had never seen before. Susanna and Michael. My mother laughing up at my dad as if he’d just said something incredibly clever. Happy. That’s how they were in the picture. So happy. My eyes filled with tears, growing blurry to the point I couldn’t even read the message on the page in the familiar hand of my mother’s writing until I gave myself a minute.

Once I was able to read it, the message wasn’t anything remarkable at all, just how much they’d enjoyed their weekend at Hallborough and that they would love to come back again someday. That never happened, obviously, but that wasn’t the point. The important thing was that they had been here and enjoyed themselves together…spending time with each other and finding happiness in those precious moments they were given.

The warm weight of Caleb’s arms came around me from behind. I was so absorbed in my trip down memory lane, I hadn’t even heard him come into the room.

“Your parents came to Hallborough,” he said softly as he studied their picture.

“They did.” I reached a hand up and cupped his cheek, needing to touch him.

“That’s why you were so excited about seeing the house. You suspected they came here.”

“You caught that from me?” The level of Caleb’s intuitiveness amazed me. It must be why he was so good in business. He could read people.

He kissed the top of my head. “I like to think I can know what you’re thinking but I don’t. I just sense changes in your body language, and you were trembling when we drove up to the house, and then taking happy selfies in front of it two minutes later. When Hannah said you were in here looking through the photo albums for your parents, I figured it out.”

“I’m glad you came to find me.” I got up from the chair and went into his arms and let him hold me. Caleb’s touch was my lifeline now. He balanced my highs and lows with his ever-present strength and love.

“Me too. I love seeing you so happy, it’s the best gift you can give me. Well, that, and our baby,” he said sweetly against my forehead.

“I love you, Caleb Blackstone, and I needed this trip so much more than I could have ever imagined, but you imagined it. You know me better than I know myself sometimes. Thank you for bringing me here, but more than that, for loving me the way that I am.”

“I love you, Brooke Casterley Blackstone, and that is my most important job. It’s what I do best.”

“I know.”

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