by Diane Noble
“Newt fell for it,” Nicolette said.
“That part was better than playing the role of Precious McFie. Can you imagine the laughs we had over that?”
“We?”
“You know Craig. My boyfriend? Or did you pay any attention when I introduced you?”
“He had a bad fall recently, didn’t he?” Kate said, connecting yet another set of dots. “I believe he said he was pushed down the hotel stairs by the ghost, if I’m not mistaken.”
Shaking her head as if talking about an errant child, Daryl rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted. Thought it would add some drama.” She laughed. “And it did. Really had Sybil going for a while, not to mention all the other folks in town.”
Nicolette took two steps closer to her daughter. When she spoke her daughter’s name, the sound was filled with heartbreaking disappointment and guilt and no small measure of love. “Oh, Daryl...”
“You’ve always been too busy for me, Mother.” Daryl’s eyes filled. “Maybe Mrs. Hanlon’s right. Maybe all this was in part to get your attention.” Her voice dropped, and she sounded like a child when she continued. “Maybe I thought you would love me because I did it all for you.”
The muffled sounds of voices carried toward them, growing louder by the second. It was as if all the cookout guests were coming upstairs. Soon the thundering thumps of footsteps grew closer, and Kate could make out the sounds of worried voices.
Kate made a move for the door.
“Stop right there,” Daryl said.
When Kate turned, she saw that Daryl had grabbed the gun again. And it was aimed at her.
Nicolette stepped between them. “You’ll have to shoot me first,” she said quietly.
Kate’s heart thumped beneath her ribs, and she swallowed hard.
Daryl kept the gun trained on her mother, then tears filled her eyes, and she dropped the weapon to her side.
Without waiting another heartbeat, Kate ran out into the hallway.
Paul was the first to round the corner, a stream of Copper Mill and Faith Briar friends trotting behind him. She saw Livvy wave, but as soon as Paul reached her, she fell into his arms.
Her eyes were closed, but behind her, she heard the click of handcuffs, then the sound of Sheriff Roberts’s voice as he read Daryl Gallagher her rights.
From somewhere in the crowd, a voice called out, “Off to the hoosegow, lady. You shouldn’t have been packing heat.”
Kate would have known that voice anywhere.
“I thought you promised to be careful,” Paul murmured into Kate’s ear. She could feel the wild beating of his heart against her cheek. She closed her eyes and savored the moment—the safety of his arms, the warmth of his love, the knowledge that all the dots had at last been connected.
She pulled back and smiled up at him. “How did you know where I was?”
He smiled and nodded toward the windows on the front side of the hotel. “There was a flickering light. Everyone saw it. It flitted from window to window.”
“But we weren’t on that side of the hotel,” Kate said, inclining her head to room 213. “We were in there, and all the lights were out.”
“Strange,” Paul said.
“Not strange at all,” Renee said, emerging from the crowd to stand beside Paul. From somewhere in the depths of the doggie tote tucked under her arm, Kisses growled.
Renee shot Kate a knowing look and winked.
Epilogue
Susannah’s Sumptuous Chocolates star coach pulled up in front of Kate and Paul’s home on a Saturday the first week in June. Kate ran to the door even before her friend knocked. Paul was just three steps behind her.
The women hugged, then Kate invited her in. “We’re delighted you could stop by.”
Susannah gave Paul a hug, then smiled at them both. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. It was just pure luck—” She stopped to correct herself. “No, it was a God thing that put you directly in my path to our next gig. You were on the way, but I would have driven a hundred miles out of the way for this visit.”
“Come in and sit down,” Paul said, leading the way to the living room. “Would you care for coffee?”
“I’d love some. Kenyan French roast?”
“Italian,” Paul said with a chuckle. “By the way, even though it’s getting close to summer, we’re still enjoying Chocolaté Dos Mundos.”
Susannah grinned. “It’s addictive.”
She sat on one end of the sofa, and Kate sat on the other. Paul left them to talk while he put on the coffee.
“How are things going with the book sales?”
“Couldn’t be better. And my cookware business has turned around as well. My time here in Copper Mill changed a lot of things. I’ll never forget how you helped me through one of the most troubling times in my life. I don’t know how I can ever thank you, Kate.”
Kate smiled. “That’s what friends are for.”
“And you reintroduced me to another Friend. Half the day, I go around humming ‘His Eye Is on the Sparrow’ just because this little sparrow”—she tapped her heart—“needs to be reminded that someone is holding her close, even when she doesn’t realize it.”
Susannah reached into her satchel and pulled out a book. It was Chocolates to Die For. She placed both hands on top of it and, for a moment, just looked down as if thinking about what she was going to say next. Or praying. Maybe both.
When she looked up, she had tears in her eyes. She handed the book to Kate. “This is for you.”
Kate took the book in her hands. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it.”
“I mean it’s really for you.”
Kate tilted her head, puzzled.
“Open it, silly,” Susannah said, smiling through her tears.
She reached across the sofa and opened the book to the dedication page, then handed the book back to Kate.
Kate’s eyes filled as she read:
To Margaret Blume—
You taught me the joys of cooking,
the fun of family life,
the meaning of love and acceptance, without strings
attached.
I will never forget you.
And to Kate—
In the words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
“I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward . . .
The song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.”
You helped me find my song, dear Kate,
then and now.
About the Author
DIANE NOBLE is the award-winning author of The Butterfly Farm and nearly two dozen other published works—mysteries, romantic suspense, historical fiction, and nonfiction books for women, including three devotionals and an empty-nest survival guide. Diane is a three-time recipient of the Silver Angel Award for Media Excellence and a double finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award for Best Inspirational Fiction. Diane makes her home in Southern California with husband Tom and their two cats. You can stop by Diane’s Web site at www.dianenoble.com to catch up on the latest about her books, favorite recipes, crochet patterns, and much more.
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