by Diane Noble
Two grainy black-and-white photographs stared up at Kate. The one on the left was of a young couple, obviously the newly crowned homecoming king and queen. They were looking at each other instead of at the camera. Even in the grainy, rough photo, it was clear they were in love.
“This is J.B.’s high-school sweetheart, the one he married after graduation. According to the caption, her maiden name was Rachelle Kensington.”
Kate picked up the second photo and brought it closer. It was of a high-school kid in a football uniform, sweaty and covered with mud and grass stains. With his helmet on and blackened cheekbones, he could have been anyone. “I agree,” she said. “It’s a bit of a stretch.” She started to hand the photo back to Livvy, then stopped. “Wait, there is something—”
“Well, ladies,” LuAnne Matthews said at her elbow. “What’d you decide on? Pie à la mode, tuna melt on rye—now that’s a sandwich to die for—or maybe our specialty of the day, a half rack of baby backs with slaw and barbecue beans on the side...?”
She stood by the table, grinning down at them. Then her expression changed. Her gaze was fixed on one of the photos. “Well, if that don’t beat all,” she said. “Mind if I have a closer look?”
Before either Kate or Livvy could answer, she snatched up both pictures and held them to the light. “Well, I’ll be,” she said again, then dropped into the booth with the women.
LuAnne adjusted her eyeglasses, still staring at the photographs. “I haven’t thought of him in years. Why are you two starin’ at his photograph like it was the key to some long-lost secret?”
“Because it is,” Kate and Livvy said in unison, then laughed.
“Does he look like anyone you’ve seen lately?” Kate asked, studying LuAnne’s face for a flicker of recognition.
She shook her head. “I heard he moved away years ago. Him and that cute little gal of his.” She held the picture closer. “J. B. Packer. That does beat all, but no, he doesn’t look like anyone I’ve seen lately.”
“What about Jed Brawley?” Kate said. “Do you see a resemblance?”
“Brawley?” LuAnne let out a snort of a laugh. “Brawley’s not even in the same league with this kid.” She paused. “Of course, this J.B. business was years ago. But even given the wearin’ down of a body over time, he couldn’t have changed this much.”
Livvy sighed. “Well, I guess that’s our answer.”
“You two thinkin’ this is the same man?” She leaned in closer.
“I thought maybe he was,” Livvy said.
Kate settled back and crossed her arms. “Take another look. I think Livvy is onto something.”
They both frowned and grabbed a photograph as she continued.
“Look at this kid’s teeth. Do you see what I see? He’s got a small gap between his two front teeth, slight but noticeable.” Kate squinted. “And there on his left side—you can see it in both pictures—he’s got a chip in his tooth. Tiny, but significant enough to be noticeable.”
“I never noticed it,” LuAnne said. “Or the gap.”
“I did,” Kate said. “When I met with him.”
“You went to see the arsonist?” LuAnne said, admiration in her eyes. “I’m impressed. You’ve got guts, and smarts too.”
“And a caring heart,” Livvy added.
“So you really think they’re the same person?” LuAnne asked, squinting at the photograph again. “The arsonist and Jed Brawley?”
“I’m sure of it,” Kate said, nodding.
Loretta Sweet, the Country Diner’s owner and cook, popped her head out of the service window, and LuAnne hurriedly slid out of the booth.
“Darlin’s, here I sit chewin’ the fat when I haven’t even taken your order. What’ll it be?”
They decided to split the tuna melt, and LuAnne scribbled their orders on a well-worn pad, then turned to leave.
She’d only taken a few steps when she turned back. “Speakin’ of the arsonist, I overheard something interesting earlier this mornin’.”
She stepped back to their table and leaned low, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “There were a couple of city slickers in for breakfast. They were talkin’ about the big plans they’ve got for Copper Mill.” She leaned in closer. “I only heard bits and snatches, but it sounded like they’re in town to finalize some sort of a deal for buyin’ land over by the creek. Said something about a fancy spa resort and were talkin’ about coming back with some investors.”
Livvy frowned. “You think that has something to do with the church fire?” She looked thoughtful. “Danny did say something about a corporation approaching the church board about buying the property. The name was Worldwide Destination Resorts.”
“That’s the one,” LuAnne said. “I’m sure I heard one of them refer to it.” She shrugged as she straightened up. “What if they’re in cahoots with the arsonist? Maybe they wanted the property so bad, they hired him to do their dirty work.”
Kate mulled it over for a few seconds. “There’s still something that bothers me about this.” She frowned. “We’re assuming Jed Brawley, or J.B.Packer, if that’s his real name, is guilty.”
“He confessed,” LuAnne reminded her.
“Lots of people confess to crimes they didn’t commit. You hear about that after major forest fires all the time.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why, but it happens. What if he didn’t do it?”
“So, you’re sayin’, then, that...” Behind LuAnne, customers were calling for fresh coffee or water refills. She called out “Just a minute,” without turning.
Kate saw Pastor Pete step behind the counter, pick up the coffeepot, and start making the rounds from table to table.
“Thanks, Pete,” LuAnne hollered, then turned back to Kate and Livvy. “If that’s the case, the corporation might have tapped somebody else to do their dirty work.” She paused. “And that would be a whole ’nother kettle of fish.”
Livvy and Kate nodded.
“Either way, I’ll keep my eyes peeled,” LuAnne said. “If those characters from that resort outfit come back”—she winked—“I’ll make sure their coffee doesn’t have a chance to get cold, so to speak. I can hover, ears wide open, with the best of them.”
BY THE TIME KATE ARRIVED HOME, Paul was there with the telephone technician, and by late afternoon, they were connected to the world again. The word spread fast, and before Paul finished programming their answering machine, they received three calls.
The first was from Renee Lambert, who wanted to know if Kate had talked to Paul about putting the church bell in their backyard.
“Yes, and he agrees that it’s a fine plan.” Kate glanced through the sheep-spotted sliders and imagined the large cast-metal bell sitting in the middle of the tiny yard. She had to smile. It didn’t quite fit in her plans for garden landscaping, but the congregation would love looking out at it on Sunday mornings. “We do need to make sure we have a reputable crane operator.”
“I already thought of that,” Renee said with a sniff.
“Our neighbor in San Antonio had a hot tub dropped through his garage roof when the crane operator released the chains too soon.”
Paul looked up and grinned. They had already talked about the same thing happening in their living room with the bell. The decor was bad enough. A bell crashing through the ceiling wouldn’t help.
“Hmmph,” Renee said, then changed the subject. “I’m wondering if I can ask you a favor.”
Kate cringed, then immediately felt terrible for her lack of charity. “Of course, Renee. What is it?”
“I need to be gone all day Thursday. It’s an appointment I must keep.”
Probably an all-day spa treatment, Kate thought, picturing seaweed wraps and hot-stone massages.
“And Kisses can’t go with me.”
“They don’t allow pets?”
Renee ignored the question. “He’s used to staying by himself for an hour or so at a time, but I’ve never left him alone all day.”
“Wou
ld you like for me to stop by to check on him?”
“Oh no. That would mean you’d need to drive over on the hour. He needs full-time attention. It’s much easier if I drop him by in the morning on my way to my appointment.”
Across the kitchen, Paul had obviously picked up the thread of conversation and was grinning at Kate.
She couldn’t say no, but neither could she imagine a two-pound Chihuahua following her around while she unpacked. What if she stepped on the tiny thing? “Yes, of course, Renee. I’d be happy to.”
“I’ll bring the ingredients for his meals.”
“He doesn’t eat regular dog food?”
Paul looked ready to bend double with laughter, and Kate made a face at him.
“Oh goodness, no. I sauté ground meat with a teensy bit of fresh garlic and onions three times a day and serve it warm.”
“Serve it warm?” Kate’s voice came out in a squeak. She didn’t even do anything like that for her kids.
“Kisses loves it that way. You’ll see,” Renee said happily. “There’s one other thing. He has an overactive bladder, and you’ll need to make sure you get him out the door at the first sign of need.”
Great! Kate thought as Renee said good-bye.
The second call was from Danny Jenner, asking if Paul could use a ride to the diner for the church board meeting when he dropped off Livvy to help Kate the following evening. Most meetings these days were held at the Hanlon home—it seemed like there was some church function every night of the week—but they decided to give Kate a break and let her have the run of her house for the evening.
The third call was from LuAnne Matthews at the diner. “I’ve been thinkin’ about something,” she said, “and it’s too important to put off. I know Livvy’s planning to stop by to help with the unpacking. Could you two use some help? We can chat while we work.”
“Of course,” Kate said. “I’d like nothing better.”
“Be prepared, darlin’,” LuAnne said. “What I’ve got to talk to you about is gonna knock your socks off.”
Chapter Seven
Kate gave Paul a quick kiss good-bye as he headed out the door to meet Danny at his SUV. Kate stood in the doorway, waiting for Livvy, and LuAnne drove up a few minutes later. She brought three orders of fried chicken, sweet-potato fries, fried okra, and a side of popcorn shrimp left over from the daily special. Kate put out paper plates, stacked extra napkins in the middle of the table, and the three sat down.
Kate said grace, then they dove in.
“Tell us what you’ve been mulling over,” Kate said to LuAnne.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about the heartache we all feel because of the fire. My parents were married in that church,” LuAnne said, her eyes glistening with tears. “My grandfather was one of the original builders, and seeing it turned into a pile of rubble, well, it’s causing an ache that’s like somebody we loved upped and died.”
“You’re not alone in how you feel.” Livvy reached for LuAnne’s hand. “We will rebuild. And soon, I hope.”
“But you see, we’ve got to get the ball rollin’. The sooner we do, the better we’ll feel about that empty space where our church used to be. And I’ve got a plan.” She blew her nose. “I’ve already run it by Betty Anderson, who was in for coffee this afternoon, and Abby Pippins, who’s ready to roll with it. Phoebe West stopped by to show me her new baby—the cutest little thing; her name’s Violet—and she loved the idea too. And Ellie MacKenzie, Pastor Pete’s wife, said she was sure the other ministers’ wives would join us. Can you imagine, the Presbyterians, the Baptists, and the Episcopalians all joinin’ together to rebuild our church?”
She sat back with a satisfied smile. “Nearly everybody I talked to is ready to roll up their sleeves and jump in.” She paused. “Well, with one exception. Renee Lambert thinks it’s a terrible idea.” She blew her nose again, then said under her breath, “Probably because she didn’t think of it.”
Kate started to say, “But it’s only been a few days since the fire,” or “Shouldn’t we wait to hear what the church board decides?” or “Maybe we ought to wait for the insurance settlement?” but looking at LuAnne’s expectant face, she thought better of it. She was beginning to realize the women of Copper Mill were a strong sort and obviously not used to sitting around waiting for the church board or the menfolk to take the lead.
In San Antonio, meetings and focus groups and reports from experts in any given field preceded every plan of action. Sometimes it seemed that meetings were held just to plan the next meeting. Getting any new project off the ground was agonizingly slow.
Not here, she was finding out. Not much got in the way of the ladies of Copper Mill.
Livvy laughed and held up her hands. “Okay, enough fanfare! We want to know what your plan is.”
“Got something to write with?” LuAnne asked Kate. “We need to get down to brass tacks with our plannin’.”
Kate cleared the table, tossed the paper plates in the trash, then returned with scratch paper and pens.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” LuAnne said. “We’ll put on a pumpkin festival.”
“A pumpkin festival?” Kate hoped her voice didn’t reflect her disappointment. She pictured a pumpkin-raising contest and couldn’t imagine how the proceeds might help build the new church.
“It’s late in the season to plan anything like this,” Livvy said gently. “Maybe next year...”
“Listen a minute before you dismiss the idea. Have you two heard of the pumpkin festival that Circleville, Ohio, puts on? It’s world famous.”
Both women shook their heads.
“How does bringing in a cool hundred thou’ or so sound to you?”
“You’re kidding,” breathed Livvy. “A hundred thousand dollars?”
LuAnne sat back with a satisfied smile. “Of course, Circleville’s been puttin’ on their festival for a hundred years. We can’t expect our proceeds to quite match theirs. But what if we could even bring in ten thousand, maybe enough to pay for hangin’ the church bell again. Maybe even pay for rebuilding the steeple?” Her eyes filled, and she dabbed at them with her tissue. “Don’t you see? If we get busy working, just doing something, anything, to feel like we’re taking some steps forward, it would do wonders for our spirits.”
Livvy smiled. “We can do it,” she said. “I know we can.”
Kate had already started making notes. “An arts-and-crafts fair,” she murmured, writing it down. “We’ll get the ladies of the church to get started with their knitting, crocheting, weaving, quilting. There will be an entry fee, we’ll give out ribbons, then sell the items later.”
“A best pumpkin-pie contest,” Livvy said, scribbling on her pad. “Entry fees there too. Then the pies will be for sale.”
“Pumpkin contest,” LuAnne said, and wrote it down. “A prize for the largest, the ugliest, and the cutest.”
“Isn’t it too late in the season to grow them?” Kate asked.
“Most folks around here are already growin’ them. They put them in right after the last of the sunflowers in the summer. We’ll just tell them the contest is comin’ up, so they can throw on extra fertilizer.”
“And we’ll crown a Little Miss Pumpkin Princess!” Livvy laughed. “Open to the little ones. Based on best pumpkin costume. Can’t you just see it all now?”
“And a Little Mister Pumpkin Prince!” LuAnne added.
They all scribbled furiously, the ideas flying faster than they could write.
“We’ll bake the world’s largest pumpkin pie!” LuAnne almost shouted, then wrote it down. “We’ll call the Guinness Book of World Records.” She grinned. “As big as a VW! Or a Mack truck!”
Livvy blinked. “How would you go about baking something that size?”
LuAnne laughed. “You’re right. Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”
“We can make pumpkin grits,” Kate said. “With Gorgonzola and sage. I saw a recipe in one of my gourmet magazines. I can find it again—I k
now I can!”
The other two women looked at her as if she had just stepped off a spaceship from Mars. “Pumpkin grits?” they said in unison.
“Well, yes. I’ve never tried it, but I can...”
“Darlin’, this here’s the South,” LuAnne said, patting her hand. “Now, maybe if you wanted to deep fry ’em in little balls and roll each little ball in cornflakes, folks might take to it. But if they knew those grits had pumpkin in ’em...” She shrugged, “well, honestly, I don’t think they would sell.”
Livvy laughed. “I think we’re selling our Copper Mill folk short. If they knew the grits were for a good cause, I bet they’d buy them.”
“Then let’s serve two kinds—one with pumpkin, one without,” Kate said.
“And one spooned out in little balls, deep-fried, and rolled in cornflakes,” LuAnne said as she wrote it down. “I’ll be in charge of those.”
THAT NIGHT PAUL AND KATE sat together in front of the fireplace over tea. Kate had her robe and slippers on and was curled up in the rocker. Paul was sitting next to her, unusually solemn as he stared into the fire.
She reached for his hand. “I take it the board meeting didn’t go well.”
He sighed deeply. “Actually, the meeting itself went well. We’ve got some good people in this church.” He gave her a quick smile. “Most of the agenda had to do with pretty heavy issues. But we did have one lighter moment—at least it was for me. It seems there have been complaints about Renee Lambert bringing her little dog to services, so she came fully prepared to get an official approval from me as pastor and Danny as chairman of the board, and even a vote of confidence from the rest of the board members.” He chuckled. “She gave a little sermon about Noah’s ark and seeing-eye dogs, with a bit of lore thrown in about dogs rescuing their owners. When she was through, she had convinced the board that the little Chihuahua could stay.”
His voice softened. “I had to agree. The ark was a sanctuary, a place God ordained to keep his beloved creation safe. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing for Renee to bring her dog into ours.”
