Spare Change
Page 28
Olivia smiled the smile of angels, not so much an upturning of lips, but a warm thought that floated across in the same manner as words.
Charlie knew the truth of what happened, he knew that Ethan Allen fired off the first shot then fainted dead away. Scooter Cobb had been hit in the side; hit hard enough to be stunned and fall over, but not hard enough to stay down. The man had barely hit the floor before he was pushing himself back up and coming at Ethan Allen. Olivia, who had tripped and fallen back onto the carpet, saw what was happening, scrambled across, grabbed hold of the shotgun and fired the second barrel of the Browning square into Scooter Cobb’s chest. She fired when he was less than five feet from the boy; when that shot hit it ripped the man’s chest open and cut through to his backbone. The second shot was the one that killed Scooter Cobb.
You never told the boy the truth of what happened that night, Charlie thought directing the words to Olivia.
No, she answered, I didn’t. I knew he got far more joy from believing he’d saved my life than he could have ever gotten from knowing I’d saved his.
A soft chuckle touched down in Olivia’s heart and she understood it came from Charlie. They kissed in the manner of angels, a touching of hearts rather than lips; then turned their eyes back to earth—to the Pancake Palace where the Doyle family was having breakfast.
Ethan Allen, who had just finished a cup of coffee turned to the two boys and said, “Did I ever tell you about the time your great grandma…”
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
For I know the plans I have for you declares The Lord…
Plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future…
Jeremiah 29-11
Writing a novel is never easy; writing a novel that explores both the good and bad in people offers an even greater challenge and I could not have done it alone. Every day I thank Our Heavenly Father for blessing me with the talent to do this and giving my heart the encouragement I need to go on. I hope you’ll forgive me when my characters use profanity; it’s part of who they are. Without exposure to the darker aspects of humankind, there is no barometer by which to measure the goodness, generosity and love we have all been gifted with.
I also want to thank the people who have contributed to the story development of this book. I am extremely grateful to Joanne Bliven for working with me to refine the language and characteristics of an underprivileged child. I thank my friend and fellow author Sunny Serafino for her wise advice and editorial guidance; and I thank Geri Conway for reading every word I write, always believing me in me, being my sister and helping me to remember the sage advice of our Southern Mama. And, as always, I thank the wonderful women of my book club—for being avid readers, astute listeners, caring friends and an unending source of inspiration.
For the beauty of this cover, I thank Michael Visconte and the Creative Team at FC Edge; they are without doubt creative geniuses. They delve into the heart of the story and create an image that captures it with poignancy greater than anything I might have imagined.
Lastly, I thank my husband Richard, for reasons too numerous to list; but most of all for loving me and being the best life partner a woman could ever wish for.