A sly smile dug wrinkles into the corners of Maybelle’s eyes.

Realization dawning, Sarah’s eyes widened. “Alberta didn’t invite Lou to go on a sleigh ride with her, did she?”

Maybelle looked offended. “She most certainly did.”

Sarah wasn’t buying it. She knew her friend too well and recognized that smile.

“Because you put her up to it?” she guessed.

Maybelle’s smile said it all.

“Rosie is going to kill you if she finds out.”

“Finds out what?” Maybelle asked, not seeming concerned. “I haven’t admitted to a thing.”

She didn’t need to. Sarah smelled a Butterfly. A matchmaking one.

“What did you think about the mistletoe?” Maybelle asked, adjusting her scarf. “I thought it was a nice touch to the end of a romantic sleigh ride.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped. “You did that, too?”

“I’m good, Sarah.” She said it as a statement of simple fact. “But it’s been years since I could climb up a lamppost to hang mistletoe. I doubt there were any ladders lying around waiting for an old woman to use.”

“True,” Sarah admitted. “Yet you knew exactly where the mistletoe was.”

The older woman’s blue gaze sparkled. “Pay attention, girl. I said I couldn’t climb a lamppost. Not that my eyes and ears don’t work.”

“Rosie told you about the mistletoe? That’s how you knew?” Sarah clarified, shifting her elf and Harry’s leash. The dog was lying near her feet with his head on his paws, watching the tent being packed away and every so often looking up at Maybelle with suspicion. Smart dog.

“Rosie told me.”

“You’re saying you had nothing to do with the ‘Christmas miracle,’ as Mrs. Harvey called it, of the mistletoe appearing earlier tonight?”

“Lou kissed Rosie beneath that so-called Christmas miracle.” Maybelle sounded right proud. “You think she wasn’t telling everyone with ears about how he was so overcome by their kiss that he proposed?”

It’s exactly what Rosie would do. Maybe Maybelle had been innocent.

“Lou and Rosie weren’t the only ones beneath that mistletoe.”

Sarah’s face heated.

“Oh, look, I think they’re done,” she rushed out, taking a step toward where the crew had finished packing up the tent. Just in time to keep from tripping, she remembered she had Harry’s leash and waited for the dog to jump to his feet and join her in heading toward Bodie.

“That’s okay, Sarah,” Maybelle called from behind her, her voice full of merriment. “I always did say a picture was worth a thousand words.”

Bodie wasn’t at Hamilton House when Sarah got home from her post-church lunch with her father the following afternoon. As much as she hated to admit it, her mind had been on Bodie rather than her father’s sermon.