“Eden stopped me from going to the police. She said she forgave me, said I’d done her a favor by keeping quiet, because it had showed her the Linden family’s true colors. She made me promise not to tell anyone what had happened, that there was no point and would only cause me a world of trouble. She said we’d keep it between us. Next thing I knew, she’d left town. I’ve never told another soul what really happened that day. Until now.”
Mom and her promises … I hugged my knees even tighter. She hadn’t broken her word to Aubin, either—while she insisted she knew the crash had been an accident, she’d never once explained why she knew.
I suddenly wondered if Zee knew the truth. The hair rose on my arms, and instinctively I knew she had. Now it all made sense. The terms of her will … and the connections to Summer. Zee had planned it all, because without Summer, I wouldn’t have met Aubin.
Through her will, Zee had gifted me time to find the truth about the accident.
And to find myself.
She’d been a nurturer until the very end.
“I was such a coward. I let Eden down. I let AJ down. I let myself down. And even though Eden forgave me, I’m still working on forgiving myself.” He glanced at Francie’s headstone. “I don’t know what I would have done if someone had accused me of killin’ Francie on purpose. I don’t know how Eden survived it.”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure either. I put the photograph away.
He reached for the envelope. “I’ll go see Josh Kolbaugh right now, get this all sorted. It’s long past time for the truth to come out and to clear Eden’s name once and for all.”
I put my hand on his arm. “No, it’s not what she wanted then, and she wouldn’t want it now.”
He let that sink in, and then said, “Anna Kate? I’m real sorry about what happened. I wish more than anything you could have known your daddy. And that you could have seen Eden and him together. Seen their love.”
“I wish that too,” I said softly. But all wasn’t lost—every day I was in Wicklow, I learned more and more about the people who’d given me life. I learned it through Aubin. Through the Lindens … And I’d keep on learning, because I wasn’t leaving.
“I hope you can forgive me, too, Anna Kate.”
I reached out for his hand, and he rested his palm on top of mine. “What is friendship, Mr. Pavegeau?”
He lifted up our joined hands. “I think it looks a lot like this, Anna Kate.”
“I think so too.”
But to my eyes, it didn’t just look like friendship.
It also looked a whole lot like healing.
29
Anna Kate Callow stepped up to the table, her coppery-colored hair shining in the sunlight streaming through high windows. The room was awash in light, the woodwork gleaming, the atmosphere warm and friendly. A heavenly scent filled the air. Something sweet yet spicy.
She said, “I thought you’d be done with that article by now. You’ve been at it awhile.”
He thought he’d have finished too. But he was having trouble trying to come up with a way to explain to his editor that his blackbird article had devolved into an existential essay on life, love, loss, and forgiveness. “I shouldn’t be here much longer. Maybe another day. Or two.”
She smiled sweetly at him as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her waist apron. “I probably should have warned you when you arrived that Wicklow has a way of holding on to you once you’re here.”
A drop of condensation slid down his glass. “One of the first people I interviewed told me this wasn’t any old ordinary town. She was right.”
Laughing, Anna Kate’s green eyes sparkled with pure happiness. She turned toward the kitchen, then stopped to look back at him. “You stay as long as you want. You’re always welcome here at the Blackbird Café.”
Anna Kate
“Yoo-hoo!” Faylene Wiggins yelled, waving her arms. “We’re over here! The movie’s about to start, so get a move on. Hey, y’all, Gideon and Anna Kate are here.”
Gideon looked over at me and said, “Third time’s the charm for the fried chicken?”
“It better be. I’m starting to think I’m the only one in this town who hasn’t tasted it yet.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I know where you can get plenty more. All you’ve got to do is ask, Anna Kate.”
“Is this all part of your grand plan to reunify our properties?”
“Yes,” he said with a smile, “yes, it is.”
“I approve.”
Faylene’s eyebrows went into the stratosphere as we approached and she spotted the hand-holding, but much to my surprise, she didn’t call attention to it.
Marcy and Josh were there with Lindy-Lou, who was, as usual, asleep. Mr. Boyd gave a sheepish wave from his spot next to Faylene. Doc leaned against the magnolia tree as he read a book to Ollie, who was nestled in his arms. He gave me a wink and kept on reading about a little blue truck.
“Finally,” Natalie said when she saw us. “I swear Mama bribed someone to keep the movie from starting until you got here.”
Seelie glanced at me. “It was hardly a bribe. Ten dollars and a What the Flock T-shirt. Pittance, really.”
“I don’t know about that, Seelie,” Cam said from his spot at Natalie’s side. “Those shirts are a hot commodity.”
“They’re selling faster than Aubin can make them,” Marcy said. “Please tell me you brought your fried chicken, Gideon. I’ve been dreaming of it.”
“Poor Josh,” Pebbles said. “Losing out in Marcy’s dreams to chicken.”
She and Mr. Lazenby sat next to each other in matching lawn chairs. It seemed Gideon and I weren’t the only ones doing some hand-holding tonight.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” Josh said. “I’ve been dreaming about it too.”
I smiled at that as I spread a blanket in the empty spot between Natalie and Seelie.
“What’s this about chicken?” Mr. Lazenby asked, eyebrows raised with interest.
“It’s your favorite kind,” Faylene said. “Free!”
He tried to scowl but it quickly turned into a wheezy laugh that filled me with happiness.
As Gideon passed around the plate of chicken, I pulled mason jars of blackberry tea from the cooler to hand out. Jena had helped me pack them as she told me of her and Bow’s plans to travel around the country. They were leaving as soon as I hired on more help. When I fairly begged her to stay on, she patted my hand and told me she’d been grounded too long and was ready to fly once again. She vowed they’d be back for Christmas, however, and I was going to hold them to that.
“Hi, Annakay!” Ollie said when she looked up from her book and spotted me.
She’d added the extra a this past week. Before I knew it, she’d be saying my full name with perfect enunciation. I was over the moon that I’d get to see her grow up.
I walked over and kissed the top of her head, then Doc’s as well. “You two look cozy over here.”
Doc winked. “Not as cozy as you’re looking with Gideon.”
Seelie swatted him. “Oh, hush now. You’ll embarrass her.”
“I come from hearty stock,” I said. “I don’t embarrass easily.”
“That’s good to know,” Doc said, “because Seelie’s planning family photos. In matching outfits.”
“They’re not matching,” she corrected. “They’re complementing.”
“My mistake, dear.”
I laughed as I sat back down. My gaze slid to Natalie and Cam, who were playing tug-of-war with a chicken leg, then back to Seelie to see how she was reacting to the obvious date.
She slowly smiled and leaned into me to whisper, “If she likes him, then I suppose I like him too. We must get him to shave that beard, though. Good Lord.”
The amphitheater lights dimmed, and quiet fell across the crowd. Gideon sat next to me, pushing in close to press a kiss to my temple. He’d been extra early for coffee this morning—because he’d stayed the night.
If Zee and his granddaddy had played matchmaker as we suspected, then I owed them a debt of thanks.
The movie screen lit up, then went dark a second later.
The crowd groaned.
The screen lit up again, and cheers erupted as the opening of Finding Dory came on.
Then boos erupted, because the characters were speaking in French.
Despite the language barrier, the movie kept rolling, but many people started to pack up and leave.
Faylene said, “What do y’all say? Should we leave or should we stay?”
“Fishy!” Ollie bounced on her toes as she pointed at the screen. “Fishy!”
“Stay,” we all said at the same time.
Faylene laughed. “Stay it is. You got any of those hand pies this week, Gideon?”
I smiled as I looked around at all the faces I’d come to know, and the people I’d grown to love.
Wicklow might have taken hold of me, but I was never letting it go.
Acknowledgments
I’m enormously grateful for the encouragement of my agent, Jessica Faust, who believed in this story from page one—and has always believed in me and my writing. Jessica, I simply cannot thank you enough for all that you do.
Amy Stapp, thank you for trusting me to tell this story. Your insightful wisdom and steady guidance took this book to a whole new, wonderful level. I’m excited to see what the future holds for us.
To the amazing, hardworking team at Forge Books, I’m incredibly thankful for your help in bringing the magic of Wicklow to life.
To Sharon, Shelley, Cathy, and Hilda, thank you for the friendship, hugs, advice, and endless enthusiasm for my crazy ideas.
Readers, you inspire me to write. Thank you so much for choosing to spend time with my stories.
Lastly, to my family—you are the magic in my world. Thank you for everything.
About the Author
Heather Webber is the author of more than twenty-five novels and has been twice nominated for an Agatha Award. Midnight at the Blackbird Café is her first work of women’s fiction. Webber loves to read, drink too much coffee and tea, bird-watch, crochet, and bake. She currently lives near Cincinnati, Ohio, where she is hard at work on her next book.
Visit her online at www.heatherwebber.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
MIDNIGHT AT THE BLACKBIRD CAFÉ
Copyright © 2019 by Heather Webber
All rights reserved.
Cover photographs by Depositphotos
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
120 Broadway
New York, NY 10271
www.tor-forge.com
Forge® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-19859-4 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-19860-0 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250198600
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: July 2019
Midnight at the Blackbird Cafe Page 33
