by Carol Cox
“Maybe fluff up that pillow a bit?”
Kate slipped the cushion from under his foot and shook new life into it before tucking it back in place. “Is that better?”
Paul settled back and gave a contented sigh. “You’re a good woman. Have I told you that lately?”
“A true Proverbs 31 woman,” Pete quipped. “Could I trouble you for a little more of that coffee, Kate?”
“Sure.” She reached for the mug he held out to her. “I have a fresh batch brewing. It should be ready in a few minutes.”
On her way back to the kitchen, the doorbell buzzed again. Kate made a detour to the front door.
Bobby Evans stepped inside and grinned. “I hear we’ve moved our coffee hour over here today.”
“Maybe we should move it here permanently,” Lucas called. “I like the coffee here a whole lot better than the diner’s.”
Kate laughed. “Don’t let LuAnne or Loretta hear you say that.” She fixed a mug of coffee for Bobby and brought the pot with her to pour a fresh round for the rest.
She was beginning to wonder whether she’d ever get to her studio that morning.
“SO, HOW DID YOUR DAY GO?” Livvy asked when she called that evening. “Did you get a lot done on your new project?”
Kate sagged against the kitchen counter and readjusted the receiver against her ear.
“Would you believe I never even set foot in the studio? Between taking care of Paul and answering the door for his visitors, I’ve been on the run all day long.”
“That’s a shame. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Wow, listen to that wind! Is it blowing as hard at your place as it is at ours? Sounds like we have a major storm building up.”
Kate glanced toward the kitchen window. Dark clouds blotted out the moon. Even in the faint light, she could see the maple branches swaying wildly.
“And just when I was thinking happy thoughts about spring being right around the corner.”
“Dream on. There are no guarantees around here this time of year. You’re not in San Antonio anymore.”
“That’s the truth.” Kate shifted the receiver to her other hand. “Did I tell you Millie stopped by?”
“With a list of phone calls Paul could make while he’s just lounging around, no doubt.” Laughter bubbled in Livvy’s voice.
“Close. She brought by a rough draft of next week’s bulletin for him to approve, along with a stack of church mail that came in this morning. She told him she assumed he would be able to stay current with his correspondence, even if he can’t do much walking at the moment.”
Livvy made a tsk-tsk sound.
Kate ticked off the other items on her fingers. “She also said it would be helpful to her if he could plan out his sermon texts at least a month in advance, so she created a form for him to fill out.”
“Oh, my goodness. She’s really on a micromanagement roll, isn’t she?”
“That’s not all. Then she pulled out that calendar she keeps on her desk and went over everything on it with him. She wanted to know when he thought he’d be up to working in the church office again so she would know which appointments needed to be rescheduled.”
She looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen doorway and lowered her voice. “I don’t think it made her very happy when he said he wasn’t sure when he would be back. He really did more yesterday than he should have, and he’s paying for it now.”
Livvy’s sigh drifted through the receiver. “Men! They always think they’re invincible.”
“Well, this one just had a reality check. It’s a good thing he works hard at staying in shape. The doctor told him that should make the healing process go more smoothly.”
“Let’s hope so. It sounds like you both had quite a day. I’ll hang up now and let you get some rest.”
“Thanks for calling. It really helped.”
“No problem. That’s what friends are for. Be sure to bundle up tonight, maybe get out an extra blanket or two. It looks like it’s going to be a cold night.”
Kate said good night, then set the phone back on the kitchen counter, wishing she were already curled up in bed.
She pushed herself to straighten up the living room and kitchen before shutting down for the night. By the time she crawled into bed, Paul was already asleep.
Kate lay beside him in the darkness, listening to the soft rattle of sleet against the window. Careful not to jostle Paul, she snuggled closer to him and let her muscles relax, feeling extremely weary and ready for sleep to claim her.
Instead, scenes from the long day played through her mind like a Powerpoint presentation:
Millie Lovelace pointing to her calendar.
Father Lucas and Pastors Pete and Bobby drinking endless mugs of her fresh-ground coffee.
She rolled onto her other side and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Why did her mind keep dwelling on Paul’s visitors, like a pesky fly that refused to go away?
She went back over them, one by one, trying to remember if any of them had said something that might have some bearing on the mystery she was trying to solve.
Like a flash of lightning, the answer suddenly blazed into Kate’s mind.
She had it all wrong. It didn’t have anything to do with that day’s visits. It was Eli’s comment the previous day about Roland Myers coming into a sizable payment from the insurance settlement he received on the Mustang.
But she had seen the elderly man outside the bank on Friday, complaining to his friend about being turned down for a loan because he was a poor credit risk.
Why would he have been trying to get a loan when he had already received a substantial check from his insurance company?
No, wait. Eli said that Myers had gotten the check in the mail on Saturday. What if . . .
Kate’s eyes flew open. What if Roland Myers wasn’t running a chop shop after all? What if he had schemed to defraud his insurance company instead?
She sat up in bed, careful not to wake Paul, and wrapped her arms around her knees.
Roland Myers needed money. That was obvious from the conversation she overheard on Friday afternoon. If he had set up a plan to make a fraudulent claim on the Mustang and the plan apparently failed, that would explain his application for credit at the bank as well as his pique when the bank turned him down.
Eli said Myers had been pleasantly surprised when he got the insurance check on Saturday.
I’ll just bet he was.
Kate went over her new theory, examining it from every side without finding a flaw. It made more sense than anything else that had come to light so far. Definitely an angle that needed further investigation.
She lay back down, closed her eyes, and nestled into her pillow. One thing was clear: when things settled down just a bit, she needed to pay Roland Myers another visit.
Chapter Seventeen
Livvy’s prediction of a winter storm was borne out when Kate awakened the next morning to a world coated with ice. She looked out on the sparkling scene and pressed her finger against the delicate tracery of frost etched on the bedroom window.
“Paul, you’re not going to believe this!”
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He emerged from the bathroom, leaning on his crutches, and clicked his way across the room.
“We had quite a storm last night. Look at what it’s done.” She pushed the curtain back farther so he could see. “It’s beautiful. Beautiful and terrible, all at once.”
Paul joined her at the window and slipped an arm around her waist. He pursed his lips and let out a low whistle. “We sure never got anything like this in San Antonio.”
Kate rested her head on his shoulder. “That’s what Livvy said last night. I heard the sleet starting just before I went to sleep, but I never expected anything like this.”
The arctic blast had turned Smoky Mountain Road into a glittering fairyland. Everything, from power lines to fence rails to tree limbs, looked as if it had been encased in a sheet of glass.
Kate shook her
head. “It’s going to be a while before there’s any traffic. Just look at that layer of ice on the road.”
“I wouldn’t try it, even with chains. I hope you weren’t planning on going anywhere.” Paul pointed across the pavement where a tangle of broken limbs jutted into the road.
“There’s probably damage like that all over town. I hope somebody comes to move those pretty soon. That’s a real traffic hazard.”
He leaned forward to survey their front yard. “It looks like everything here is okay, at least.”
Kate started. “I got so caught up in the beauty of it all, I forgot to think about any damage. I suppose I ought to check the rest of the place.”
She hurried from room to room, peering out each window in turn.
“Everything looks all right,” she called from her studio. Then she went into the living room to peer out the clouded sliding-glass doors. “Oh no.”
Paul joined her, hobbling as quickly as he could. “How bad is it?”
“It’s the maple out back. Come and see.” Kate gestured toward the tree that dominated their postage-stamp-size backyard.
Like the trees across the road, every limb was weighted down by a cocoon of ice. At least half a dozen of them, each thicker than Paul’s arm, had sheered off and lay in a heap around the base of the trunk.
Looking up, she could see where at least a dozen more limbs had snapped loose and were dangling precariously overhead.
Paul’s lips tightened. “That isn’t safe. Those need to be taken off and cleared away.”
Kate touched the frigid glass with her fingertips. “I don’t dare try to tackle it while it’s so slick outside, but once the ice thaws—”
“You aren’t to even think about attempting that on your own. If this had happened last week, I wouldn’t have had any trouble taking care of it myself. But as things are now...”
He glared down at his injured leg. “It’s bad enough for one of us to be laid up. We don’t need to risk injury to us both.”
His voice took on a softer, teasing tone. “Besides, if we’re both wearing casts, who’s going to run all my errands for me?”
Kate hugged him. “Speaking of taking care of you, why don’t we have some coffee, and I’ll whip up a couple of omelets.”
Thirty minutes later, she carried plates bearing fluffy western omelets to the table. Paul sat in his usual spot, leafing through the previous week’s Chronicle.
“Have you seen this ad on page seven?” He folded the paper open to that page and handed it to Kate in exchange for his breakfast.
“Page seven? No, but LuAnne mentioned something about it the other day.” She looked at the open paper and felt her jaw drop.
The upper half of the page was taken up by a large display ad with a bold headline blazoned across the top: BRING BACK THE COUNTRY DINER!
“Oh my.”
Paul lifted a forkful of his omelet. “Wait until you read the rest of it.”
Kate scanned the ad quickly, then read aloud:
“An Open Letter to Loretta Sweet from Your Faithful Customers—
We have heard a rumor that you’re considering retirement instead of reopening our beloved Country Diner. Please, please, please don’t do this! Our town would never be the same. We need you, Loretta. Please don’t go! Signed...”
The rest of the space was taken up by column after column of names. Kate spotted Joe Tucker’s, Skip Spencer’s and Mayor Lawton Briddle’s names among them. At a quick glance, it looked like nearly half the town had added their names to the list.
She lowered the paper and stared at Paul.
He chuckled. “Not exactly subtle, is it?”
“LuAnne told me people were upset, but this...” Kate looked at the paper again. “I wonder how Loretta is taking it.”
Paul finished the last bite of his omelet before he answered. “I’m surprised we weren’t asked to sign it. Frankly, I would have been glad to put my name on it as well. Can you imagine never being able to go in and order another round of biscuits and gravy again?”
He held up his hands when Kate gave him a mock glare. “You’re right, much as I share their sentiments, I’ll admit this approach is a little heavy-handed. I’d been meaning to go over and see Loretta anyway, before this ad appeared. I guess I’ll have to put that on the list of places for my chauffeur to deliver me.”
“You’re not going anywhere until the ice melts off those roads,” Kate told him. “In the meantime, this chauffeur is going to spend some much-needed time in her studio.”
She picked up his plate and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Call me if you need anything.”
Humming, she washed up the dishes and started for her studio. There was one good thing about the storm, she reflected. As dangerous as the roads looked, they shouldn’t be interrupted by another spate of unexpected visitors anytime soon.
A loud jangling interrupted her thoughts before she got halfway across the living room. At least the phone was still working.
She hurried back to the kitchen to answer it, breathing a prayer of thanks. It would have been much worse if the phone lines were out too.
To her relief, it was Livvy, calling to see how they were doing and whether they had sustained any storm damage.
“Oh, what a shame,” she sympathized after Kate filled her in on the maple’s broken limbs. “That’s such a beautiful tree! The schools are closed for a snow day, so Danny and the boys are home. They would come right over to help clear the mess away, but Renee got to them first. There’s a big oak limb hanging over her front porch, and her mother is convinced it’s going to come crashing into their living room at any moment. You know how persuasive Renee can be when she gets an idea in her head.”
Kate smiled. “That may qualify as the understatement of the year.”
“The boys are thrilled about playing lumberjack,” Livvy went on, “but Danny isn’t quite so excited about standing up on a ladder and trying to saw off limbs in freezing weather.”
Kate laughed. “I can imagine. Tell Danny not to worry about it. I’m sure he and everybody else will have their hands full trying to clean up their own property. We’ll figure out something soon. In the meantime, I’ll just stay out of the backyard.”
She hung up, wondering how many more times the phone would ring that morning.
As it turned out, that was the only phone interruption of the day. Kate spent the morning in her studio, enjoying the luxury of having an uninterrupted stretch of time to let the possible designs for the fanlight flow from her imagination onto the paper.
The ideas came freely, and Kate was soon lost in the joy of giving free rein to her creative side. She left her sketching long enough to fix a light lunch for her and Paul and spend time with him, then she returned to the studio.
Several of the designs looked promising, but one in particular stood out.
Kate took a closer look at it and changed a few of the lines. After penciling in the final stroke, she leaned back and scrutinized it detail by detail, checking it from several different angles.
Would it fit the needs of Harry Michaels, her first customer? She thought back to their phone conversation, shortly after Steve had given her the order. Her questions had elicited little information at first, but she pressed on until she learned about Mr. Michaels’ passion for gardening. When she mentioned the possibility of a design incorporating some of his favorite flowers, his enthusiasm gave her all the encouragement she needed to make that the focal point of the piece. Would that concept fit the bill?
A slow smile curved her lips, and excitement bubbled up within her.
“Yes,” she breathed. “That’s the one.”
A light tapping broke into her thoughts, and she turned to find Paul framed in the doorway. “Is my favorite artist still in creative mode, or are you ready for a break?”
Kate checked her watch. “Three o’clock! I must have been in my own little world. I had no idea it was getting that late.”
She
stretched her arms above her head and rolled her neck from side to side. “It was worth it, though. The design I settled on turned out even better than I thought it would.”
She held up the sketch for his inspection. “What do you think?”
Paul’s face lit up. “It’s beautiful! Is that for your special order?”
Kate nodded, delighted at his unreserved approval. She stepped back a few feet and looked at the drawing from a distance, taking in the blend of dogwood and forsythia blossoms.
“Now that I have the design worked out, I can’t wait to get started on it.” She grinned. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been longing for warmer weather, and those blooms hold out the hope of spring.”
Paul moved beside her. “Could you wait long enough to drive me into town? The roads have cleared off, and Loretta has been on my mind all afternoon. I could call her, but I really feel the need to go talk to her.”
Kate smirked at him. “So you can plead your case in person on reopening the diner?”
Paul tapped his forefinger on the tip of her nose. “I’ll have you know I’m primarily concerned about her well-being. She’s been through a lot lately.”
He slanted a playful look at Kate. “Of course, if the diner comes up in the conversation...”
“Of course.”
Kate fought to keep a straight face but lost the battle and sputtered with laughter. “Give me a few minutes to straighten up here, and then your trusty chauffeur will be back on duty.”
“WATCH OUT FOR ICE. You don’t need to be taking another spill.” Kate braked at the curb in front of Loretta’s small yellow house on Barnhill Street.
Paul levered himself out of the Honda’s passenger seat without assistance and propped himself up on the edge of the sidewalk.
“It looks like it’s all melted off, but I’ll be careful. See you in half an hour?”
“That’ll be fine,” Kate said. “Tell Loretta I’m praying for her.”
“I’ll do that.” Paul swung the car door closed, then proceeded up the flagstone walk to Loretta’s front door.
Kate drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, trying to decide what to do with the thirty minutes at her disposal. It wasn’t long enough to go home and do anything productive before she needed to be back to pick up Paul.
