Sam edged to the far wall while Jimmy read the words aloud to Marla.
“I want to add one thing,” the older woman said when he’d finished. “Tito left some money. It should be used for Jolie, for her schooling and such. Is it okay if I write that on here?”
Callie pressed the buttons to raise the bed and wheeled the portable table into position. Marla accepted a pen and worked laboriously for several minutes to write out what she wanted to say. Callie found two nurses to act as witnesses. At the end, Marla signed the line Jimmy indicated to her and the witnesses added their signatures. When it was all finished, she slumped back into the nest of pillows.
“Jolie, come here. Come talk to grandma for a minute.”
Sam had the sudden, unshakable knowledge that this was goodbye. She motioned to the McMichaels’s and the three of them stepped out of the room. Four or five minutes passed before Jolie came out to the hallway.
“She wants to see you, Ms Sweet.”
Sam looked at Jimmy and Callie. A silent message passed between them, something Sam couldn’t even voice. A prayer of sorts, to care for the little girl. The two adults took Jolie’s hands.
When Sam walked into Marla’s room again, her friend had stopped breathing. She blinked her stinging eyes and sent out a little prayer that Marla rest peacefully.
Chapter 36
Five days after her son’s funeral, Marla Fresques’s casket was lowered into the ground beside him. Tight green clusters—the first of the spring crocus—poked through the bare earth. Sam and Beau stood among the small group of friends and neighbors. Jimmy and Callie McMichael stood with their two daughters, Taylor and Jolie.
Beau squeezed her hand. “Take a minute, if you want to,” he whispered as the priest finished the final prayer.
As if the others understood, everyone else moved aside as Sam approached Jolie.
“They were wonderful people,” Sam said, “your parents and your grandmother. You’ll always remember them that way, won’t you?”
“I knew this day was coming,” Jolie said matter-of-factly. “For a long time she was sicker than she wanted to let on. My grandmother believed Dad would come back, but I knew it would end this way.”
“Really?”
“I never knew what good friends my dad and Mr. McMichael were, but we’ve talked a lot in the past couple of days. They care for me. I can appreciate what they are doing for me. I can handle it. ”
Sam believed her. This adolescent girl had endured more than many adults.
“I’ve got plans, Ms Sweet. I’ll keep up my grades in school and I’ll get into a good college. I’ll be an engineer, maybe design big buildings. Something fabulous like they have in Dubai.”
Sam’s throat closed when she tried to respond. Jolie reached out and took her hand.
“Really. Don’t worry about me.”
Sam squeezed her hand and smiled. “You are truly someone special. You’ll be a strong woman one day. What am I saying? You’re strong right now. Stay in touch, okay?”
She watched Jolie walk back to her new family and the four of them get into their car. Beau appeared at her side.
Across the way, Iris’s headstone caught Sam’s attention and they moved toward it.
“Three funerals in less than two months,” she said. “It’s been a rough winter, hasn’t it?”
He nodded and put a strong arm around her shoulders. “You okay?” he asked.
“I tried to save them, Beau. I tried so hard and it didn’t work.” She blurted out the whole truth, the ways in which the magic box had empowered her, energized her to accomplish so much with her business, and how it was the box’s power that allowed her to see things, which in the past had helped solve his cases. “It nearly wiped me out, honey, trying to give that healing energy to Marla last week. I wanted to do more but . . .”
If he had questions, he saved them. He simply pulled her close and wrapped her in his reassuring warmth.
They walked out of the cemetery together. He took her to his house and to his bedroom, where they spent the afternoon forgetting the last few days.
Late afternoon light cast stripes on the log walls, turning them golden, when Sam awoke from the luxury of their post-coital nap. She stared at Beau, asleep with the innocence of a little boy—his head on the pillow and the light sparkling off the curls that were forming as his hair grew out from its last haircut. This could be her life—forever.
She slipped from under the sheet and took a quick shower, wrapping herself in her own robe this time. Downstairs, she made a cup of tea and stood at the windows that faced the wide pasture beyond. Both dogs lay on the wooden deck, flat on their sides, at ease with the world. So much had happened in recent months, since the day she’d met this wonderful man.
The sun went behind the trees at the western edge of the land and she felt him beside her. He smelled of piñon soap and his damp hair brushed her cheek when he bent to kiss her neck.
“I still want that ‘to have and to hold’ part,” he murmured in her ear.
She turned to look him in the eye. “What about Felicia? Will she be back?”
He chuckled. “I heard an interesting rumor a couple days ago.”
She tilted her head.
“One of the duty officers was gabbing on the phone with a friend who dated this guitar player, a guy who plays romantic songs in restaurants around town. Well, the story is that the guitar player dumped his regular girlfriend, fell madly in love with a striking redhead, and that they’d eloped to Vegas.”
“Felicia?” Sam gave a silent mental cheer. She’d forgotten about her delivery of the extra-strength special chocolates to the restaurant.
His grin widened and he nodded. “She’s gone—I hope forever.”
Then a wave of uncertainty. “Beau, I love you. I just wish I knew what other surprises lurk out there.”
“Samantha, I hope there are always surprises. I don’t want us to ever get tired of each other, to become so predictable that we’re bored together.”
She started to open her mouth, but he held up a hand.
“I love you. I will always love you. Just know that.” His gentle hands squeezed her shoulders before he turned to go into the kitchen.
She stepped out to the back deck. The dogs raced past her to get inside for their dinner and she pulled the robe more tightly across her chest. The evening was chilly but she felt a tiny hint of warmth in the air. Maybe spring really would come a little early this year.
Discover all of Connie Shelton’s mysteries!
The Charlie Parker Series
Deadly Gamble
Vacations Can Be Murder
Partnerships Can Be Murder
Small Towns Can Be Murder
Memories Can Be Murder
Honeymoons Can Be Murder
Reunions Can Be Murder
Competition Can Be Murder
Balloons Can Be Murder
Obsessions Can Be Murder
Gossip Can Be Murder
Stardom Can Be Murder
Holidays Can Be Murder - a Christmas novella
The Samantha Sweet Series
Sweet Masterpiece
Sweet’s Sweets
Sweet Holidays
Sweet Hearts
Sign up for Connie’s free email mystery newsletter at
www.connieshelton.com
Contact by email: [email protected]
Follow Connie on Facebook and Twitter
Sweet Hearts
Published by Secret Staircase Books, an imprint of
Columbine Publishing Group
PO Box 416, Angel Fire, NM 87710
Copyright © 2012 Connie Shelton
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Although the author and publisher have made every effort to ensure the accuracy and completeness of information contained in this book we assume no responsibility for errors, inaccuracies, omissions, or any inconsistency herein. Any slights of people, places or organizations are unintentional.
Book layout and design by Secret Staircase Books
Cover image © Myszka Brudnicka
First e-book edition: January 2012
Also published in trade paperback
First trade paperback edition: January 2012
Sweet Hearts Page 23
