by Debbie Burns
Josie cleared her throat and took a swallow of water. Aside from the sounds of Sofia’s kids, who’d gone into the living room and were playing with toys, it was quiet enough to hear the bubbles of carbonation escaping the can of soda Nico had opened. “But she kept looking up at me with Sam’s eyes, and I—I just couldn’t part from her. I was sitting in a bus station in Spokane, and I don’t know, I started praying. Really praying, harder than I’d ever prayed in my life. Maybe it’s because I was so completely out of options that I took it as a sign, or maybe it really was an answer to my prayer, I’m not sure. But this older man was looking through a rack of travel brochures, and he knocked one out. It skimmed across the floor, practically landing at my feet.”
“Was it for Galena?” Sam asked. “Is that why you went there?”
“It wasn’t just for Galena. It was for a restaurant there, a mom-and-pop diner known for its waffles. How it ended up a thousand miles away at a bus station in Spokane, I wish I knew. My guess was that someone dropped it off. I still have it in a drawer back home.” She shrugged sheepishly. “It said something about being just the place to lose yourself in history and enjoy a meal the way grandma used to make. The big thing about it; it was called Josie’s.”
She shrugged her shoulders at the murmurs of appreciation that circled the table. “Since I had nothing to lose, and I didn’t want to stay on the West coast, I decided to go. As soon as I did, things started falling into place. That very man ended up giving me the bus money after we struck up a conversation. I hate it, but I forgot his name, I was so sleep deprived that day. A woman noticed I couldn’t pay for a meal and gave me a hundred dollars to tide me over until I found better times, telling me to pay it forward when I did. Which I’ve done several times over. There were a dozen other things too. The trip took three days and a lot of bus changes, but Zoe and I made it. So, I finally got to the restaurant only to find it had gone out of business several months earlier.”
Carter squeezed her hand. “It was on the corner of Water and Hill streets, right?”
Josie looked at him in surprise. “As far as I know, you’re the only one who’s made the connection. How did you figure it out?”
“It came up in an old Galena newspaper article when I Googled you.”
“Then what happened?” Sam asked. “How’d you hook up with Myra?”
Josie could only shrug. “That was the easy part. I was sitting on a bench wondering what next when she walked by. There was something about her that reminded me of home the very same way you did when I first saw you, Francie. I remembered how Sam and I had helped carry your groceries when I saw Myra struggling with the same thing. Only she had a lot more steps to carry them up. When we got to the top, she invited me to her house for tea. And Zoe and I never left.”
“Damn,” Nico said.
Francie poked him with the tip of her fork. “I told you, talk to God earnestly enough, and he’ll answer you. You just have to listen.”
When Nico looked at Josie in disbelief, she raised an eyebrow. “All I can say to that is Galena is exactly what I would have painted had someone asked me to paint the perfect place to lose myself—or find myself, I guess. I’m not the accountant I planned to be, but I run a tea garden, and I love it a lot more than I ever would have enjoyed helping people keep their finances straight. And years later, when I was finally ready for more, even if I didn’t know it at first, the perfect guy to fit into that world came knocking on my door.
“So, the thing is,” Josie added, flattening her hands on her lap, “at the risk of sounding like my name-changing mother—I’m pretty certain Josie Waterhill is who I was meant to become when I entered this world.”
“And Mr. Writer over there fits the bill for her,” Nico answered, looking from Carter to Josie, a teasing look in his eyes. “You don’t see me objecting. So long as he knows that if he ever hurts you, I’ll lose myself in history long enough to kick his ass.”
“You’d have to get in line, because I’d kick it first,” Sam interjected, tossing a partially eaten bread roll at him.
“Boy, you’re gonna have to put on some weight first because, right now, you’re skinny enough a strong wind will blow you over.”
Josie squeezed Carter’s hand under the table. “Since you’ve been around Sam a month already, you’ll believe my saying that they’ve had a tendency to be overprotective forever. And they rev each other up.”
Carter winked. “Good thing I’m head over heels in love with you and have no intentions of doing anything to hurt you, because I’m way less inclined to get an ass-kicking by Nico than I would be by Sam.”
Nico raised his glass to Carter. “Sounds like your boy has good sense, Josie Waterhill.”
Francie raised her glass as well. “If we’re going to toast, it should be to new beginnings, and to a homecoming that was long overdue. Life is complicated and not always fair, but let’s make of it the best we can and pray God will guide us along the way.”
“Amen to that,” Carter and Sam said in unison. As everyone raised their glasses, Josie promised herself that no one at the table would ever slip out of her life again.
Chapter 39
There was a perfect view of the backyard from Myra’s room where Josie was finishing getting ready. A foot of accumulated snow had been cleared off the walkways and patios. It was a sunny and bright Saturday afternoon and the day after Valentine’s Day. White lights surrounded the bases of the largest trees, giving the yard a fairy-tale feel. Swaths of evergreens dotted with red roses and red berries were draped and tied throughout the veranda, which was being warmed by several tall stainless-steel heaters that were already on and burning.
An elegant but simple wedding. The second one here in six months.
Several fire pits reflected on an ice sculpture—a large claddagh ring in memory of Myron O’Brien, who’d helped bring Carter and Josie together eighty years after his passing.
Downstairs, close to forty guests filled the rooms, waiting to head outside when the ceremony began. Carter’s parents were here, as were a few of his friends from New York. Nico had first politely declined Josie’s invitation, but Francie had somehow changed his mind. They’d come with Enzo and Nico’s girlfriend, with Nico claiming he’d promised to bring Enzo before the last of the winter snow melted. They were downstairs, mingling with what Nico had labeled a bunch of rural Midwesterners who weren’t fazed by a foot of snow.
Returning from downstairs, Myra came up behind her as Josie retouched her lipstick. The gown Josie had chosen from a shop in town was long and winter white and had a simple elegance that Myra said suited her perfectly as soon as she’d tried it on.
“You’re as beautiful as they come, dear.” Myra closed a hand over her shoulder.
“She looks like my mother,” Sam scoffed from his spot on Myra’s bed where he was teaching Zoe how to shoot spitballs using leftover pieces of the baby’s breath woven into Zoe’s hair. “Especially with makeup on. I keep waiting for her to throw back a shot and start yelling at me.”
Zoe giggled. “What’s a shot?”
Josie pointed a finger at her brother. “I do not, but if you shoot any more pieces of that baby’s breath at me, I am going to start yelling. Besides, don’t you think you should get back to your date?”
Last week, Sam came home announcing he’d met someone—at Galena’s oldest and smallest hole-in-the-hill Episcopal church of all places, a picturesque stone chapel nestled in the Galena hillside. He’d been out walking and had heard an organ. On an impulse, he’d headed in for a bit of soul searching. Never in a million years would Josie have guessed that the young woman he met inside was Kristin Richards, Zoe’s teacher. Since then, they’d gone out a few different times and, considering her connection to the flower girl, Sam invited her to attend today.
Sam pushed himself up from Myra’s soft mattress and slipped back into the coat of his rented tux
. “Straighten this ridiculous tie for me, will you?” he asked, walking over.
Josie tugged at Sam’s collar and tie until they were straight and even. Looking into his clear hazel eyes, she could still see the boy who’d stacked crates in their bedroom and stole Ramen Noodles out of her bowl when she wasn’t looking. “Your being here to walk me down the aisle makes everything perfect, you know?”
“Yeah, whatever,” he said, “only why do you have to look so much like mom?”
“I hate to break it to you, but you didn’t land so far from that tree either.” She kissed him heavily enough on the cheek that she left behind a smear of lipstick.
“Come on, Zo,” Sam said, waving her over, “let’s go find Kristin.”
“You mean Ms. Richards,” Zoe said. “We’re supposed to call her Ms. Richards.”
“Yeah, well, you can. I’m exempt since I’m out of elementary school, kid.”
Sam opened the door to reveal Carter on the other side, about to knock. Buttercup, who’d soon be carrying Josie’s ring in a satchel tied to his collar in the ceremony, pushed inside and began his rounds, giving everyone a thorough sniff before hopping onto the bed.
“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” Myra said.
“It doesn’t have to be, Myra,” Josie said. “A very wise woman once told me luck is nothing more than what we make it.”
Zoe wrapped herself around Carter’s leg as Sam opened the door wide. “I waited for this my whole life,” she said, grinning as she pulled away.
“You don’t have to wait till the ceremony is over, if you don’t want to, Zo,” Carter said, squeezing her shoulder.
“Nuh uh. You have to marry my mom to become my real dad.”
“Is that so?” Carter laughed, bending over to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Then I can wait a little longer too.”
With Sam’s DNA sample—and his blessing—Josie and Carter had seen a lawyer to begin the process of making Zoe’s adoption official. Josie was also doing it right and legally changing her name from Pictures to Waterhill. The whole thing would be a complicated process, but thankfully she’d tucked away a bit of money to cover the expenses.
“Anyone mind if I have a minute alone with my bride?” Carter asked.
“We were headed out anyway.” Sam led Zoe out of the room along with him. “See you downstairs.”
“I need to check the kitchen.” Myra paused to smooth out the top of Carter’s tux. “I don’t think even that grandfather of yours could have made a more handsome groom.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but he couldn’t have made a more devoted one.”
Once they were alone, Carter shut the door and joined Josie at the dresser by the window. Just as she suspected, he looked phenomenal in his black tux.
She nodded toward the backyard. “It turned out beautiful, didn’t it? For a bit of a rush.”
But Carter had eyes only for her. “You look—” he stopped and shook his head. “I’m speechless.”
“Like my mother, according to Sam.”
“If that’s true, then I can’t believe she never made it in pictures.”
“No pun intended, huh?” Josie laughed.
“Yeah, none intended.”
“What made you come up? We’re getting married in ten minutes. And please stop looking like you want to kiss me. I don’t have time to redo my makeup.”
“I thought of something when I was downstairs.”
“What was that?”
“The very first time I saw you. Do you remember what you asked me when you opened the door?”
“Ah, no, because seconds later I practically fainted.”
“You asked if I was here for the wedding.”
Josie laughed. “That’s right; I’d forgotten.”
“Yeah, well, I want to revise my answer.”
“If I remember correctly you made one of your very Carter-like comments, but you didn’t say no.”
“True, but I should have said emphatically yes.”
She made a face. “Yeah, I think that would have come across as creepy.”
He grinned and pulled her close. “Well, is it creepy now if I tell you this is absolutely the best day of my life?”
“No, not at all. It’s the best day of mine too. So far, anyway. God willing, we have a lot more to look forward to.”
When his lips closed over hers in response, she didn’t object, even though she knew they wouldn’t stop in time for her to redo her lipstick.
Acknowledgments
From the loosely woven strands of an idea after my first visit to Galena years ago to the well-scrubbed revisions of Summer by the River, this story has come together with the help and encouragement of many. In writing this book, I chose my favorite Midwestern small town as the setting, and the plot and fictional characters sprang to life as a result. Like kids going off to college, these characters have become companions in my daily life that I will miss as this book goes to print.
While the writing process can be solitary and occasionally stressful, receiving encouragement as I wade through “all the things” from my writer besties Amanda Heger and Angela Evans makes all the difference. Here’s to those dinners when we can get together and Zoom calls and writing dates when we can’t. Thank you to Angela, Pam Trader, Kathi O’Neal, Theresa Schmidt, and my go-to beta reader, Sandy Thal, for their feedback on this story in the various stages in which they read it. Thanks also to my mastermind sisters Bree Liddell and Ciara Brewer for helping to keep me accountable in so many ways and to Ciara for being my tea aficionado.
Thank you to my brilliant editor, Deb Werksman, for her insight and guidance in revisions and for helping me see both the inscrutable and the glaringly obvious that I’d gotten too close to spot. A heartfelt thanks to my publisher for taking this story to publication, and for the entire team at Sourcebooks who all do so much to enable books like this one to find a way into readers’ hands. Thank you to my loyal agent Jessica Watterson of the Sandra Dijkstra Literary Agency for her constant support and for her guidance with the LA flashbacks in this story.
Thank you to my parents for all their encouragement over the years and for being my biggest cheerleaders along this journey. Thank you to my ex-husband, who first journeyed with me to Galena, and for all the support in the early years of my writing career. Finally, thank you to my teens, Ryan and Emily, who’ve grown up with a mom who writes and who think nothing of my diverse Google search history or of trekking along on my research forays. None of this would be the same without you.
About the Author
Debbie Burns is a 2019 National Readers’ Choice Award finalist and 2019 HOLT Medallion Award of Merit recipient. Her highly praised Rescue Me romance series features happily-ever-afters of the two- and four-legged kind. She lives in Saint Louis in a gingerbread house that’s almost cute enough to eat. In her free time, you can find her enjoying time with her two teens, two phenomenal rescue dogs, and a somewhat tetchy Maine coon cat who everyone loves anyway.
For her latest release info, you can sign up for her newsletter or read more about her at authordebbieburns.com. You can also find her on Twitter and Instagram (@_debbieburns), on Facebook (@authordebbieburns), and on BookBub (@AuthorDebbieBurns).
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