by Mara Purl
“This is Jack Sawyer. I’m out. Leave a message if you expect me to call you back.” He paid no attention to his own gravelly voice on the outgoing message. But after the beep, when an authoritative female voice began speaking, Jack started coughing again.
“Jack, this is Sam calling.” As if he didn’t know. “I’ll leave a message at your office, but in case you don’t go there this morning, you should know you’ll be facing an injunction. Have a nice day.”
Kevin Ransom loved the mornings better than any other time of day. In autumn, it was still dark and chilly when he got up. He never knew whether the sky would look pink or orange or lavender, so it was always a surprise. He liked that best of all.
The view from Kevin’s porch raced down a steep incline through a stand of tall California pines. The smallness of the house was made up for by the size of the trees, which stood on protected land, so they’d never be cut down. The first rays of light penetrated the upper branches like the strobe lights of a National Geographic photographer. Guess the storm last night cleared out all the clouds.
The squirrel who occupied the back yard stepped onto the railing of the deck and walked gingerly toward Kevin, chattering for his morning nut. Today it would be a cashew, and Kevin couldn’t decide whether his squirrel was demanding an early Halloween treat, or stocking up for winter.
Kevin only had a few minutes before he had to leave for work. He liked to get there before Mr. Sawyer and make sure the coffee was made. It sometimes seemed to make Mr. Sawyer’s mood a little better.
“Hey, little fella.” He spoke quietly so as not to scare the squirrel off. “Want another one?” he asked. He wondered why it was always so much easier to talk to animals than it was to talk to people.
Sally O’Mally unlocked the back door of her restaurant and flipped on the kitchen lights, illuminating the gleaming steel sinks, pristine countertops, and the rows of shiny pans that hung from a large overhead rack. She caught the room’s faint odor of fresh lemons that lingered after last night’s cleaning. Though she’d been tired when she woke up this morning, she felt a spark of energy at seeing her workspace spotless and ready for a new day.
Mama trained me well. Still, I never do get up as early as she does. She pictured her mother in Arkansas, still living on the farm, still knitting, and still baking up a storm—biscuits, breads, and her signature pies.
Gotta get the first pot o’ coffee started. After putting her shoulder bag in the tiny private office she’d created out of a closet, she pulled the plastic lid off an industrial-sized tin of ground coffee, loaded several scoops into a filter paper, then snapped the basket-holder into place. Okay, now for the biscuits. Maybe I can get the first batch in before June gets here.
Her hands moved almost by their own volition as they found the chilled batter—prepared the night before—in the fridge, greased the baking sheets, dusted the cutting board, rolled out the dough and began pressing into it a round cutter. When the sheets were ready for the oven, she slid them in. Just then the back door swung open again.
“Morning, Sal,” June called cheerily in her distinctive Brooklyn accent. “Geez, it’s gettin’ light a lot later already!”
“Well, that’s September for ya,” Sally confirmed. “How you doin’ this mornin’?”
“Fine.”
Sally smiled at the long sound of June’s vowels. I s’ppose I sound just as funny to her as she does to me. Milford-Haven brings in all kinds.
Sawyer Construction Company was still closed and locked when early-morning sunlight slid past decade-old layers of dust on the Venetian blinds. There was no sign of life until the light on the office answering machine illuminated, and the cassette tape began to squeal softly while it turned.
Jack’s outgoing message crackled over the speaker. The voice did nothing to belay the gruff impatience that set the tone at his office. “You’ve reached Sawyer Construction. We’re out of the office at the moment, but leave your name, number and a brief message, and we’ll get back to you shortly. Wait for the beep.”
“Jack, it’s Samantha. I read in the paper this morning that you’ve announced the start of construction on that shopping center.” Not even the filtering of the tiny speaker on his machine could make her voice small. “You know perfectly well the plans have not yet been approved by the Planning Commission. I’d advise you to call me the minute you get to your office.”
COLOPHON
This e-book was designed to be read in the Cambria font, released in 2004 by Microsoft, as a formal, solid font to be equally readable in print and on screens. It was designed by Jelle Bosma, Steve Matteson, and Robin Nicholas.
The name Cambria is the classical name for Wales, the Latin form of the Welsh name for Wales, Cymru. The etymology of Cynru is combrog, meaning "compatriot.”
The California town of Cambria is named for its resemblance to the south-western coast of Wales, where the town of Milford Haven has existed since before ancient Roman times, and is mentioned in William Shakespeare’s Cymbeline.
The dingbat is the Angel Wing Shell, drawn by artist Mary Helsaple, and rendered graphically by cover designer Kevin Meyer. This beautiful white shell, whose pattern of ridges resembles feathers, is a type of Pholadidae or Piddock, a bivalve mollusc similar to a clam, yet unique in that each side of its shells is divided into two or three separate sections. The creature burrows deep into clay or soft rock where it anchors. The true angel wing shell is also known for its bioluminescence and appears to glow with an interior light, as might be said of angels and their wings.
About the Author
Mara Purl, author of the popular and critically acclaimed Milford-Haven Novels, pioneered small- town fiction for women.
Mara’s beloved fictitious town has been delighting audiences since 1992, when it first appeared as Milford-Haven, U.S.A.©—the first American radio drama ever licensed and broadcast by the BBC. The show reached an audience of 4.5 million listeners in the U.K. In the U.S., it was the 1994 Finalist for the New York Festivals World’s Best Radio Programs.
Early editions of her novels have won fifteen finalist and gold literary awards including the ForeWord Books of the Year, Benjamin Franklin, Indie Excellence, USA Book News Best Books.
Mara’s other writing credits include plays, screenplays, scripts for Guiding Light, cover stories for Rolling Stone, staff writing with the Financial Times (of London), and the Associated Press. She is the co-author (with Erin Gray) of Act Right: A Manual for the On-Camera Actor.
As an actress, Mara was “Darla Cook” on Days Of Our Lives. For the one-woman show Mary Shelley: In Her Own Words, which Mara performs and co-wrote (with Sydney Swire), she earned a Peak Award. She was named one of twelve Women of the Year by the Los Angeles County Commission for Women.
Mara is married to Dr. Larry Norfleet and lives in Los Angeles, and in Colorado Springs.
Visit her website at www.MaraPurl.com where you can subscribe to her newsletter; subscribe to her blog at www.MaraPurl.WordPress.com. She welcomes e-mail from readers at [email protected] m.
Table of Contents
Copyright
The Press Praises Mara Purl’s Milford-Haven Novels
More Praise For The Novels Of Mara Purl
Dear Reader
Whose Angel Key Ring
Cast of Characters
Milford-Haven Recipes
Return soon to...
Prologue
Chapter 1
Colophon
About the Author
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