Carrie’s smile grew. “I think she’s wonderful for him.”
Nodding, Greg lifted Carrie’s chin, pulling her thoughts back. His eyes took in her face, her hair, her everything.
“I think you’re wonderful and amazing and beautiful,” he whispered with a smile. His forehead fell against hers and his eyes closed. He cradled her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “We did it, Carrie girl. Can you feel it? I know there’s a world of work to be done, but things are gonna change. Can you feel the change in the air?”
She could.
Thinking back, she went through all of Greg’s plans through the years—not just for the clan to buy homes or find a way to earn a small bit of money to get them legal, one by one, but his dreams he’d had since he was a kid, his dreams for the future. For the first time since she’d met Greg Pierce, those dreams felt like a possibility again. For the first time in six years, she felt like she could finally breathe free.
Words failed her, but she nodded. Then she buried her face against his chest and held him tight.
When she felt in control of herself again, she took his hand and led him over to the others.
“What do you say we go home?” Carrie said happily. “You too, Oliver. I think it’s high time you move into our neighborhood.”
“Me? But…” Oliver looked taken aback. He scanned the group, but Richard, Braden, Ashlee, and Greg all nodded. “Are you sure the others will…will they let me join your clan?”
Ashlee Lyon took his arm and didn’t look like she was going to ever let go. “I’m very sure they’ll let you in.”
“No, not me.” Oliver shook his head. “Not after everything.”
“Now, more than ever,” Greg said, “you’re part of our clan.”
“Definitely,” Braden added. “There’s plenty of room in Ferris. Oh, by the way, we had to move. We’re in Ferris now. Did anyone tell you that?”
“How about we stop by your house on the way?” Ashlee said excitedly. “I’m sure you don’t want to wear that prison uniform forever. No offense, but orange isn’t your color. Oh, and I got your letters and broke into your house. Your paperwork was perfect! I submitted everything. I hope Mayor Phillips rots forever.”
Oliver’s small, gray eyes widened in a look of horror. “You got the letters?”
Ashlee smiled shyly again. “Both of them. Or did you send others?”
“Oh, um…no, just the two.” He scratched his receding hairline. “But you see, Reef, this guy I knew, he just…he wrote all sorts of crazy stuff that…well…” He winced. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Ashlee said with a laugh. “I thought they were perfect—unless you didn’t mean it.”
“No, I did. I just…”
She smiled again. “Then they were super sweet. So…let’s get your stuff and head back to this Ferris place. It’s not half bad. By the way, do you have any chocolate in your house? We’re going to need chocolate. A lot of it.”
That brought a quick round of laughs from everyone. Everyone except Carrie. She surveyed the faces of the people who meant the world to her, and yet her heart felt heavy.
“What’s wrong?” Greg asked, squeezing her hand.
“No offense,” Carrie said to the group, “but that’s not what I meant. I don’t want Oliver to go to Ferris.”
Oliver paled. “What? Oh. I mean, okay. Right. I…I understand.”
“Carrie,” Ashlee said sharply. “What the heck? You just said…”
With a slow smile, Carrie continued. “I don’t want Oliver to go to Ferris because I don’t want any of us there.” Her mind raced over the events of the day and the full implications. Jamansky was gone. Rigsby was finished. “What do you say that we go home home?” She looked up at Greg. “To Logan Pond?”
Like she had done, Greg seemed to weigh everything that had happened and what that might mean for their future. He scanned their small group of friends and suddenly grinned ear to ear.
“I say that sounds just about perfect. Let’s go home.” He held out a hand to Ashlee. “Give me the keys.”
OF HAPPINESS
epilogue
A WOMAN ENTERED THE STORE with sun-baked skin. She looked around nervously. “Are you guys open? I saw the sign outside, but I wasn’t sure.”
Carrie strode forward. “Yes. Come on in. We just opened this morning.” But haven’t had a single customer yet, she added silently. “What can I help you with?”
“Well…” The woman looked around, eyes sweeping over the roughly built shelves and the old table that stood in the front of the store. The table held all the fresh items: baskets of ripe tomatoes, plump squash, freshly baked bread, and the noodles Amber had rolled out the night before. The shelves held more homemade things, like blankets and wrapped-up fuller’s soap. The woman finally seemed to relax. “It all looks so wonderful. Wait. You have cheese?”
“Goat cheese,” Carrie said, thinking how excited Braden and Amber would be that the customer noticed his cheese first. “And there are eggs in the container down there.”
“This is great,” the woman said.
“Thanks!”
While Carrie would have loved to watch the woman shop—analyze every tiny thing she picked up and why—she decided she better get a handle on herself before she creeped out their poor first customer.
Taking a step back, she said, “Let me know if you need help with anything. I have to grab something from the supply room. I’ll be right back.”
Carrie fought off a smile, but by the time she entered the back room, she was grinning like a little kid. She couldn’t help it.
With a shake of his head, Greg laughed. “Are you gonna react like this to every customer?”
“Probably,” she admitted.
“Good.” He stood and kissed her forehead. “I’m about done labeling these tomatoes, but you didn’t tell me what kind they are.”
She looked at him in dismay. “Those are pear tomatoes, Greg. They’re my favorite. I’ve only talked about them every day since…”
Her words trailed off as she realized he was smirking. She swatted at him for poking fun of her obsession—especially since he had plenty of his own. Chuckling again, he caught her hand and pulled her close where he could snuggle his face into her neck.
The back door to the store swung open.
“Hey, guys,” Delaney said, striding inside with her black braids swinging. “Hope I’m not too late.”
Extracting herself from Greg, Carrie walked over and took the box from Delaney. She knelt over the Sprucewood Clan’s contributions, admiring the beautiful handiwork—rows of hand-woven rugs and knitted socks.
“These are perfect,” Carrie said. “Tell your mom she’s an angel.”
“Okay,” Delaney said brightly. Then she looked around. “Is Zach here yet?”
“He should be here in a minute,” Greg said. “He’s helping Amber and Braden sort the baby chicks.”
“Oooh, can I buy one? I love baby chickens!” Delaney said.
“I think your mom already ordered twelve,” Carrie said.
“Yes!” Delaney said with a whoop of delight. The girl was the epitome of sunshine. It was hard not to smile around her. “Can I wait for Zach here?”
“Sure,” Greg said. “You can give me a hand labeling the rest of these…um…” He glanced up at Carrie. “What kind of tomatoes are these again?”
Rolling her eyes, Carrie took the first batch from him and went back into the front room.
As the woman browsed, Carrie busied herself behind the counter. She adjusted the stack of herbal seeds, lining them up alphabetically for the twentieth time until there was nothing left to do but wait.
Her eyes flickered across the street to the police station, wondering how Oliver was adjusting to his new role as Sheriff of Shelton Township. Ashlee Lyon claimed he was doing an amazing job—of course, Ashlee thought everything Oliver did these days was amazing. But Oliver was still Oliver, always stre
ssed about doing the right thing. While the situation around the country had definitely improved over the last two months and Rigsby’s “emergency laws” were in the process of being repealed, there were still pockets of supporters causing havoc and staging violent protests. Until the presidential election in a few weeks, things would remain in limbo. Oliver spent most of his days buried in paperwork, working with the new mayor, and training his newly-hired policemen on the new laws—or rather, a return to the old laws.
Carrie would take Oliver some bread and jam for lunch when she got a free minute. If she got a free minute. Maybe they would be swamped with customers all day.
She watched the few people walking Main Street, but none were heading toward their shop on the corner.
Yet.
The woman grabbed a small basket of pear tomatoes and added them to her pile. Carrie smiled smugly. See if Greg teased her about them now.
With that, their first customer approached the counter and spread out her things. She picked up one of the small bags of herbs.
“What’s this one?” the woman asked.
“Rosemary,” Carrie said proudly. “It was my mom’s favorite.”
“Oh, I love rosemary. It makes the best chicken.” The woman opened the small bag and inhaled. “What great memories this brings back.”
Five minutes later when Greg walked into the front of the store, Carrie was chatting happily with the older woman—Serena—about the best way to dry herbs. Carrie made sure to give Greg a pointed look so he wouldn’t miss the pear tomatoes the woman had placed in her pile. Impressed, Greg pursed his lips and nodded.
Spotting him, Serena stepped back. “Goodness, I should get going. I’m talking your fiancée’s poor ear off.”
“Oh, no worries,” Greg said. “She loves it.”
Carrie kicked him softly behind the counter. He was on a roll today.
“It’s great to meet you, Serena,” Carrie said. “We’re just getting up and running, but we hope to continue adding to our inventory. Depending on the season, we’ll have different plants and seeds available, chickens and goats for sale out back, plus handmade items from people in the area.”
“Oh, I’ll be back,” Serena said. “It’s so lovely to have a place like this here in Shelton again. It reminds me of my early days walking Main Street with my mom.”
“Me, too,” Carrie said fondly. In fact, memories of her mom—and Greg’s—had filled her thoughts the last few days as they’d prepared to open shop. Both mothers would have been thrilled.
Greg put an arm around Carrie’s waist and gave her an affectionate wink. While he could never resist the chance to tease her, he also knew that she was in little farmers’ market heaven.
Serena tilted her head to study him. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
Carrie felt Greg stiffen.
“Don’t think so,” he said quickly.
“Are you sure? I could have sworn I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“I just have one of those faces, I guess,” he said.
It was Carrie’s turn to fight off a smile. Greg hated this, but she didn’t mind so much.
Serena continued to study him until her eyes suddenly widened. “The broadcast! You were there. I knew I recognized you.”
Even with her bad ear, Carrie heard him groan under his breath. Every time they replayed the footage of that day, Greg was there beside McCormick, standing tall and regal in his black uniform. About the only thing Greg ever said about the footage was that his shaggy hair looked ridiculous, “flapping around in the wind like that. They didn’t even get my good side.” But with the upcoming elections, the networks kept replaying the footage. The attention was bound to get worse.
“So, I guess I know who you two are voting for,” Serena said with a knowing smile.
“Yes,” Carrie said. “Charlie McCormick is a good man. He would make a great president. Have you decided who you are voting for yet?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve liked all that McCormick has to say. Now…” Serena lifted her purse and pulled out her wallet. “I really better be going. How much do I owe you? I ended up getting more than I anticipated. I hope I have enough.”
“It’s thirteen dollars,” Carrie said, having counted it up as the woman grabbed each item.
Serena pulled out some wrinkled, old green bills and counted them one by one, as if each was precious to her. They were about to be precious to Carrie, too. With things in the country pulling back together, the first of the banks planned to reopen soon. Supposedly Carrie would be getting a portion of the money back that her parents had left in the banks before they had collapsed, but Greg said not to count on that. She needed money of her own in hand, so when her first rental payment on her home in Logan Pond came due, she would be ready.
“Oh dear. I’m a little short,” Serena said. “Can you save these tomatoes for me? I’ll come back later today. I just need to run home first.”
Carrie would have been fine with that if Serena hadn’t pushed away the basket of pear tomatoes. That felt like a personal insult. But she forced herself to smile. “Sure. I’ll save them.”
“Thanks.” Serena gathered up her items. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Bring friends,” Greg added.
The woman laughed. “Of course. By the way, when are you two getting married?”
“She’s makin’ me wait until spring,” Greg said with a roll of his eyes.
“Spring flowers are my favorite,” Carrie said. Even as she said it, she could hear how lame that sounded. Who chose a wedding date based on which flowers were in season? “But who knows,” she added quickly. “He might be able to talk me into something sooner.”
Greg’s head whipped around, green eyes going wide. “You serious? You’d move it up?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure. Why not? I love fall flowers, too.”
Greg gaped at her.
Serena laughed. “Well, congratulations, you two. You make a cute couple.”
“Thank you,” Carrie said.
Heat crept up her neck as she felt Greg’s eyes still on her. He loved to surprise and shock her all the time. Every once in a while, it was nice to turn the tables on him.
She picked up the yellow pear tomatoes and set them behind the counter where they would probably sit until she gave up hope of the woman returning. Because who would come back for a few odd, pear-shaped tomatoes that only Carrie was obsessed with?
Suddenly she turned back.
“Wait,” Carrie called. Serena was nearly to the door, but Carrie held the small basket toward her. “Here. Take these. They’re a gift from us.”
Serena looked startled. “Are you sure? I don’t mind returning.”
Carrie’s gaze swept over their small store on the corner of Main Street in Shelton, Illinois. The streets were no longer empty. Even beyond their little downtown, the world was coming back to life. Like a flower slowly blooming in spring, each day new people appeared, emerging from their dark hiding places. Serena might be their first customer, but she wouldn’t be their last.
“Take them,” Carrie said with a smile. “Please.”
“Trust me,” Greg added, “nothin’ would make her happier.”
the end
to my readers
THANK YOU FOR READING CITIZENS OF LOGAN POND! It’s hard to believe that I’m done with this trilogy. I’ve spent many years with these characters, and they’ve become my friends. Their story grew from a question of: what if the end of civilization as we know it doesn’t come from some huge war or natural disaster? What if it comes from the simple collapse of the dollar? How would normal, everyday people survive? What would stay the same? What would change? And more than anything, how would I survive and take care of my loved ones? From there grew this little band of citizens that I adore.
If you’ve enjoyed their story, please take a minute to help others find this series by writing a review: Amazon | Goodreads. And make sure to sign up for my newsletter to
be alerted about my upcoming releases.
Keep reading for a preview of HEART OF RED, BLOOD OF BLUE, my new medieval romance, now available.
* * * * *
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new from Rebecca Belliston
Heart of Red, Blood of Blue
A girl on the run. A kingdom to save.
Princess Gisela of Steinland was born without color. Albino. When her betrothal to Prince Jerrik of Kronga ends in his death, it starts a ten-year-war her father is determined to win, even if it means bringing her out of hiding to do it. Now the savage Krongon war commander, Bloodless Kristoff, seeks the hearts of the entire royal family, especially Gisela's.
Desperate, her father agrees to another alliance that involves her marrying an old brute of a king. Unwilling to be the sacrificial lamb, Gisela goes on the run. Thrown into the center of a battle between three kingdoms, she finds herself fighting for her life and the right to be truly loved.
Can the girl who started the war find a way to end it?
Available in eBook, print, and audiobook
More info | Buy | Read the First Chapter
Prologue
It was sunny that day. I remember that useless little detail because the sun hurt my eyes as I tilted my head back to see the top of the castle spires. My legs burned as we ascended the stone steps—steps that seemed to last forever to my seven-year-old mind. By the time we reached the cathedral, I felt as if my heart would beat right out of my chest.
This is it, I thought to myself. The moment I was born for.
Happy birthday to me.
I remember the guards in Krongon Blue lined our way, holding their shiny swords high enough for us to walk beneath. I remember wondering if their arms were tired. My older brothers often fought over who could hold up their swords the longest. Arnold the Young usually won, which he rubbed in the noses of Arnau and Arnulf. Thankfully, none of them had accompanied us to Kronga. Besides their endless bickering, my older brothers loved to pester me, the only girl. However, I would have given anything to have my mother there. She had stayed home resting, large with yet another child.
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 134
