Ink and Shadows

by Ellery Adams

  Bobbie smiled at Nora. “Everything about this shop is so you. From the creaky floors to the trains rumbling by out back. I love that this corner of heaven exists, and I love that it belongs to you. This is the happy ending you deserve. And you wrote it for yourself. I’m so proud of you.” Her eyes were wet as she laid a business card on the counter. “I could call you here to update you on the book page, but I’m not going to. You have to call me.”

  Nora stared at the card, remembering a time when she knew all of Bobbie’s numbers by heart.

  “I won’t tell a soul about you,” Bobbie whispered. “I swear by The Red Pony.”

  Bobbie had bought a signed copy of The Red Pony after landing her first job working as a full-time librarian. She’d always wanted to start her personal library by acquiring a signed Steinbeck novel, and that edition of The Red Pony had been sacred to her ever since. If she swore by that book, she would keep her word, come hell or high water.

  Nora grabbed Bobbie’s wrist. “Be safe.”

  “Better a thousand times careful than once dead.” Bobbie winked, squeezed Nora’s hand, and left the shop as another group of lodge guests entered.

  Because one of the men immediately asked for Nora’s help finding a book on regional fishing holes, she didn’t have time to process how she felt about Bobbie’s departure. She had to lock her emotions away until later and focus on her customer’s needs.

  “I know you’re already helping the gentleman, but I’d like a trail guide if it’s in the same area,” a woman said as she followed Nora and the fisherman through the stacks. “Something for beginners. I’d love to tell my kids that I hiked the Appalachian Trail, even if I only walked it for a little bit.”

  “Any bit counts,” Nora said. “There’s a wonderful outdoor shop on the other side of town too. After you’ve finished your hike, you can buy a T-shirt there.”

  The woman was thrilled. “Oh, good. I’m going to buy that shirt, put it on, and send my son a picture. He didn’t believe me when I said that I was going to lose a hundred pounds. It took me a whole year, and it was the hardest thing I ever did, but I did it.”

  The man looking for the fishing book gave the woman a high-five. “Go you! Hitting goals and hiking the big trails. I think my kids would be happier if I’d just move into a retirement center and act my age. But I’m not there yet. I want to keep having adventures. I’ll get to shuffleboard and bingo soon enough. What’s the rush?”

  After Nora showed the man several fishing books and found the perfect beginner’s hiking guide for the woman, she overheard the fisherman ask the woman if he could buy her a coffee. An hour later, they were still sitting in the readers’ circle.

  “I think we’re witnessing a budding romance,” Sheldon whispered to Nora as he headed to the stockroom to eat his lunch and read another riveting chapter or two from the latest Jack Reacher thriller.

  “I hope so,” Nora said. She waited until Sheldon was out of sight before checking her phone. This was the third time she’d looked to see if Jed had tried to reach her, but he hadn’t. Neither had Sheriff McCabe.

  As she ate a turkey and cheese sandwich at the checkout counter, Nora thought about her female friends. They understood that relationships involved plenty of give-and-take. But the men in her life—Jed and Grant—showed up at her home or business when it suited their schedules. Their needs always seemed to supersede her own. At least, that’s how it felt to Nora.

  And though she found it somewhat therapeutic to be irritated at Jed and Grant, she also knew that her judgment was probably clouded by the events of the past few days. Seeing Bobbie after so many years had dredged up memories and emotions that Nora had worked very hard to bury.

  As she popped red grapes into her mouth, Nora remembered how lovely last night’s Cabernet had tasted. She also remembered how lovely it had felt to be relaxed and mellow.

  That was a onetime thing.

  She had to repeat this mantra several times that day, especially after bumping into McCabe outside of Soothe on her way back from the bank.

  “Are you avoiding me?” Nora demanded.

  “Hello, to you too,” he replied. “And no, I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been busy. In a minute, I’ll be busy escorting Ms. Leopold to Woodland Cemetery.”

  Nora paled. “Oh, Lord. I didn’t realize that everything had been arranged so quickly.”

  “There wasn’t much to arrange. The funeral parlor director came here so that Ms. Leopold wouldn’t have to close the shop. It was all pretty straightforward.”

  “Are you leaving now? I could ask Celeste if she’d like me to watch the store or come with her to the cemetery. She shouldn’t have to go through this without a friend.”

  McCabe shot a glance over his shoulder before saying, “I don’t think she’ll take you up on either offer. She’s closing the shop now, and she made it clear that she doesn’t want company at the graveside. I’m driving her to the cemetery and will wait in the car until she’s ready to leave.”

  Nora studied McCabe’s face. “Are you escorting her or guarding her?” Receiving no answer, she went on, “Look, I understand the logic behind the ruling. But what about Bren’s trashed house? Or the book page under my mat? What about Lazarus Harper? Where is he?”

  “He hasn’t been seen in Pine Hollow for at least ten days,” said McCabe. “This is why I keep offering you a job. You’re an ace researcher.”

  “It didn’t take much digging to figure out why Harper might bear a grudge against Celeste.” Nora touched the statue of Juliana, finding comfort in the marble woman’s solidity. “Does he have any tattoos?”

  McCabe shook his head. “I don’t know. I was hoping to get that information from Mr. Harper’s ex-girlfriend, but she isn’t a fan of the police. She told me, using words I won’t repeat to a lady, not to call her again. She’s a dog breeder, so Deputy Wiggins volunteered to give her a call. Wiggins can talk dogs all day long. We’ll see how it goes.”

  At that moment, Celeste stepped outside, pulling the shop door closed behind her. She made sure it was locked before quietly greeting Nora and the sheriff.

  “I can keep the store open if you’d like,” said Nora.

  “I don’t think a few hours will matter.” Celeste gave her a wan smile. “You don’t need to help in the store anymore. None of you do. I’ll be okay. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Nora enveloped Celeste’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry.”

  Celeste lowered her head, and Nora released her hands and stepped away.

  McCabe offered his arm to Celeste. As she moved to take it, she stumbled. McCabe was at her side in an instant. He put an arm around her waist and waited until she was steady on her feet.

  “I’ve got you, ma’am,” he said. “I won’t let go.”

  When Celeste leaned her head against his shoulder, he murmured gentle words to her, and slowly, he led her to his car.

  Nora’s heart swelled with affection for Grant McCabe. He was a good man.

  With Sheldon’s green lollipop and her deposit receipt tucked safely in her pocket, Nora continued walking to Miracle Books. She didn’t notice the Halloween decorations in the shop windows or see the autumn leaf garden flags snapping in the afternoon breeze. She was so absorbed in thoughts of a solitary figure standing next to a fresh grave that she didn’t hear someone calling her name.

  At the end of the block, a hand fell on her shoulder and Nora jumped.

  “Sorry!” a woman panted. “I was calling you, but you wouldn’t turn around. I saw you talking to the lady who lost her daughter. Can you give this to her for me?”

  She held out a casserole dish.

  Suddenly, Nora recognized the woman. She’d been with Connie Knapp the day Connie had asked Nora to take down her window display.

  “You’re Dominique, right? You and my friend, June, are in the same knitters’ group.”

  Dominique’s cheeks turned red and she stared at the dish in her hands. “Yes. June’s a good wom
an.”

  Which is exactly how June had described Dominique. And because of that, Nora decided to be civil to this woman.

  “My friends and I are having dinner with Celeste tomorrow,” Nora said, accepting the dish. “Will this keep until then?”

  Dominique nodded. “Oh, sure. It’s just cheese enchiladas. Nothing fancy.”

  “I bet they’re delicious,” Nora said. “What could be better than melted cheese?”

  A smile lit up Dominique’s face. “They’re my kids’ favorite. It’s what I make when they’ve had a crummy day.” Her smile vanished, and she pressed her hands to her heart. “I read about Celeste’s daughter in the paper. It’s so sad. I can’t even imagine how much she must be hurting right now. I wish . . .”

  Seeing that Dominique was too overcome to continue, Nora said, “You’re right. It’s terrible and she’s really hurting. And since Celeste is on her own now, I hope our community shows its true colors by supporting her. Thank you for your kindness, Dominique. This will mean so much to her.”

  Nora was about to walk away when Dominique cried, “Wait!”

  Seeing the pained expression on the other woman’s face, Nora asked, “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’ve been a fool,” she said. “I can see that now, and I want to warn you. Connie’s group plans to protest outside your store tomorrow morning. They want all the people in town and all the people stopping here before they go to the Highland Games to see the protest. If it goes well, the group will protest the other stores too. They have to stay on the sidewalk though. That’s what the law says.”

  Somehow, Nora managed to control her fury long enough to thank Dominique. With a firm grip on the casserole dish, she hurried back to the bookshop.

  When she stormed into the ticket agent’s office, Sheldon put his hands on his hips and asked, “Where’s the fire?”

  Nora dropped the casserole dish on the counter and said, “Guess what? The Women of Lasting Values Society will be staging a peaceful and public protest on our sidewalk tomorrow. We need to brew an antidote for their poison. Fast.”

  “Peacefully and publicly?”

  Glancing out the ticket agent’s window, Nora remembered Bobbie referring to Miracle Books as a corner of heaven. Dozens of people had used similar terms to describe the bookshop. They called it a sanctuary. A refuge. A haven.

  Nora’s anger faded and she smiled. “Tomorrow, my friend, we shall peacefully and publicly delight, inspire, and amaze anyone who comes to our corner of heaven.”

  “Why are you so calm?” Sheldon demanded. Pacing around in small circles, he was anything but calm. “The lynch mob has formed. The pitchforks have been sharpened. Aren’t you terrified of losing this fight?”

  Encompassing the shop in a sweeping gesture, Nora said, “No. And you shouldn’t be, either. Look around. We have books as our champions. We’ve already won.”

  Chapter 13

  Books and doors are the same thing. You open them, and you go through into another world.

  —Jeanette Winterson

  “You don’t need to help,” Nora told Sheldon. “I can’t live without you this weekend, so you should go home and rest. But before you do, could you make a dollar store run?”

  Sheldon started untying his apron. “It’s a fabulous plan, but how will you pull it off in time?”

  “I just need the tables we always use for sidewalk displays and a few sets of show-stopping doors between the tables. It’ll only be possible because I don’t have to build the doors. Remember that huge box we got last week? The one the publisher shipped by mistake?”

  “The one you wouldn’t let me open?”

  Nora grinned. “Yep. It’s full of life-sized cardboard cutouts of English phone booths, and the publisher doesn’t want them back. I’ve been meaning to recycle them, but I never got around to it.”

  “Doctor Who would be delighted by your use of telephone boxes and your pacifistic attitude. It’s not easy to act like Mary Poppins when dealing with Daleks.”

  “Don’t congratulate me yet,” warned Nora. “Just thinking about those women waving signs and shouting ugly things about books and our shop makes my blood boil. They can say what they want about me. But bashing books? Scaring off potential readers? How can anyone believe that chasing people away from a bookstore is a good thing? It’s the opposite.”

  “That’s how I feel too,” said a voice.

  Nora turned around to see Vicky Knapp looking through the ticket agent’s window.

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” she said. “We got out of school early—there’s a gas leak—so I came to read. But I can help you, Ms. Nora. With the doors. I’ve worked on lots of play sets. At church and school.”

  “That’s really sweet, Vicky, but you can’t get mixed up in this,” said Nora.

  Vicky didn’t move. “Some of my favorite books have doors leading to other worlds. They’re supposed to be a bad influence because they’re fantasies. Because they have magic. But they’re also about friendship and courage. They make me believe that one person can change the world. Hobbits, a boy named Harry Potter, a girl named Lucy—I traveled with them, and I want to go through a million more doors. I never want to stop. So please let me help.”

  “You know how your mom feels about me,” Nora said gently. “It’s one thing for you to read here. Helping me prepare for your mom’s protest is another. I appreciate the offer. I do. And I love your passion for books. I hope that never changes.”

  “How about a hot chocolate?” Sheldon asked Vicky. “With triple marshmallows?”

  After a long moment, Vicky said, “Sure.”

  Sheldon made Vicky’s drink and then headed out to buy supplies. When he returned, he was accompanied by the two blondes who often hung out with Vicky in the YA section. Both teenagers carried jugs of acrylic paint.

  “These lovely ladies would like to earn community service hours by working on your literary art project,” Sheldon explained. “Vicky sent them a text, and they flanked me in the craft aisle like a pair of hyenas on the prowl.”

  “Steph did some sketches.” The girl named Sidney, who went by Sid, thrust a notebook into Nora’s hands. “She’s an amazing artist. And I love to paint. We have nothing to do for the rest of the day, and we’re, like, huge fans of the store. But you probably knew that.”

  Steph gestured at the notebook. “We’re super excited about getting community service hours for painting. We did litter cleanup last month, and it was totally gross. Book art is way cooler.”

  Nora frowned. “About the whole community service thing—are you sure this project qualifies?”

  “The only requirements are that it benefits the community and is supervised by an adult,” said Sid. “We have a service sheet. Before we leave, you write in how many hours we worked and sign your name.”

  “Sounds easy enough.” As Nora paged through the notebook, her eyes widened in wonder. “These are terrific.”

  “Thanks.” Steph beamed with pleasure. “They’re not all doors, but there are lots of other ways to travel in books.”

  Nora beckoned for the girls to follow her. “I’ll show you what we have to work with. I love your idea for The Phantom Tollbooth. And the doorways Will Parry makes with his knife in the Philip Pullman novels are incredible, but I don’t want any weapons in our display.”

  “What about the door from Coraline?” Sid asked, pointing at another sketch. “Is that too scary because of the ghosts?”

  “Nah. It’ll be Halloween on Friday,” said Nora. “Besides, they’re the ghosts of kids. They can be cute and cartoonish instead of creepy.”

  The girls were bursting with ideas. They’d already come up with color schemes and were determined to use lots of glitter.

  When they shared this with Nora, Sheldon wriggled his fingers in farewell and left the shop.

  “He really has issues with glitter, doesn’t he?” Sid said to Nora. “He groaned when we asked him to buy the bulk-sized bottles.”

&nb
sp; Sheldon loved glitter. It was Nora who hated it, mostly because she had to vacuum the floors, and glitter did not come up easily. Her gaze traveled over her tidy stockroom.

  “Bulk-sized? Maybe you girls should work outside.”

  After showing Sid and Steph the box of phone booth cutouts, Nora gave the girls a quick lesson on how to use safety box cutters.

  “It has a ceramic blade with a rounded tip, which retracts when not in use.” Nora sliced off the corner of a flattened box. “If you get thirsty, there’s iced tea in the fridge.”

  “I’ll keep them hydrated,” said Vicky. “I’m going to read to them while they work. That’s not me helping you. That’s just me, hanging out with my friends.”

  For the rest of the afternoon, Sid and Steph listened to Vicky read from Holly Black’s latest novel while they made magic out of cardboard, paint, and glitter.

  Nora saw herself as more of a purveyor of magic. To her, the greatest magicians of all were writers—those individuals possessing the ability to breathe life into a group of words. Nora felt that spark of magic whenever she put a book into a reader’s hands. It was a magic she believed in with her whole heart. The kind of magic worth fighting for.

  * * *

  In the end, there was no protest the next morning. The storm that drenched Tennessee all day Wednesday headed east over the Appalachians but didn’t turn north as predicted. Instead, it crawled toward Miracle Springs. Warnings were broadcast via radio, TV, and cell phone, alerting those in the storm’s path to expect flash flooding.

  While the absence of protestors made Nora happy, the lack of customers didn’t. A fraction of the usual lodge guests braved the storm, and those setting out for the Highland Games would likely delay their journey until tomorrow. No one would go out of their way to visit Miracle Springs today. Not with the storm perched overhead, expelling waves of fog and rain from a mass of dark gray clouds.

  Since there were hardly any customers and she’d given Sheldon the day off, Nora cleaned, caught up on paperwork, and tried to reach Jed. She called and texted multiple times, but he didn’t respond.