“How about you?”
“You can’t go home with me. I’m already taken,” she teased.
“I’m not going home with anyone.”
“You never know. Weddings can be very romantic. Now, get out of here, and go work on my super-secret wedding quilt.” Her eyes sparkled. “Is it pretty?”
“It’s amazing. You’re going to love it.”
“I know I will.” Lauren’s eyes blurred with tears. “There I go again.”
“It comes with being a bride.”
“I just feel so happy I’m afraid something will go wrong. It’s like it’s too good to be true.”
“Nothing will go wrong,” Charlotte assured her. “You’ve had all the bad luck you’re going to have. And I can’t wait to see you and Shane finally tie the knot.”
“Me, either.” Lauren paused. “Can I ask about you and Andrew?”
Charlotte sighed. “You can ask, but I don’t have an answer.”
“That might be your answer.”
“Maybe I should ask the daisies,” she said lightly.
Lauren smiled. “I don’t think the question is whether he loves you—but whether you love him.”
Charlotte was still thinking about Lauren’s comment when she walked around the corner to the Angel’s Heart Quilt Shop. Housed in a converted barn, the two-story shop was the heart of the community. Quilting had been a tradition in the town for more than a hundred and fifty years. One of those traditions involved making a wedding quilt for every new bride, and that’s what tonight’s meeting was all about.
As Charlotte approached the shop, she was surprised by a couple coming from the opposite direction. Tory and Andrew were sipping coffees from the Java Hut, and Andrew had his arm around Tory’s shoulder while she laughed at something he’d said. Charlotte hadn’t seen Tory look that animated in months. And Andrew looked happy, too. Funny, she hadn’t thought of them as being friends.
When he saw her, Andrew quickly dropped his arm from around Tory’s shoulders. “Charlotte, hello. Are you doing the quilting thing, too?”
“Yes, of course. I’m one of the bridesmaids.”
“Right. Sure.”
She wondered about his sudden awkwardness. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you back.”
“No problem. I figured you were busy.”
“It was a long, hectic day. Everyone who put off their appointments before Christmas suddenly wanted to come in.”
Tory interrupted. “I’m going inside. I’ll see you upstairs, Charlotte. Thanks for dinner, Andrew. Next time, it’s my treat.”
“You’re on,” Andrew said.
Charlotte was surprised at the way Andrew watched Tory walk to the door. She’d seen him surrounded by women on many occasions, but it was usually their gazes following him, rather than the other way around.
“So, why did you call?” she asked, drawing his attention back to her.
“I was hoping you might have time for dinner, but when you didn’t call me back, I figured that was a no go.”
“So you found a substitute?”
“Tory’s great, isn’t she? I admire the way she’s handled all the tough things she’s had to go through the last couple of months.”
“Are you counseling her about the divorce?” she asked, still trying to find a reason for why they were together.
“Not really. She knows what she wants and what she needs to do to get it.”
“I’m glad. She deserves to be happy.” Charlotte genuinely liked Tory, but for some reason, seeing them together bothered her a little. She almost felt jealous—which was ridiculous, since Andrew had made it clear that she could have him back if she wanted him.
“What’s going on with you, Charlotte?” Andrew asked. “I heard you were questioned yesterday at the police station. Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine. They’re just running things by the book. Have you spoken to Pamela again?”
His jaw tightened as he gave a brief nod. “She came by the house earlier. Be careful around her, Charlotte. She has it in for you.”
That surprised her. “Why?”
“It bothered her that I never felt for her what I felt for you.”
“I can see why that might have upset her a long time ago, but now? I’m sure she’s been involved with dozens of other men since then.”
“Probably. But now that we’re all here again, she’s reminded of the past—just as we are.”
“Does she want you back?” Charlotte asked bluntly.
He gave a shrug. “If she thought it would bother you, I’m sure she would.”
“I doubt that would be her only reason. She obviously had a thing for you that lasted beyond high school.”
“Well, I have no interest in restarting anything with Pamela, only with you. We need to find some time to get together, Charlotte.”
“Maybe tomorrow night,” she suggested.
He hesitated. “I’m sorry, I can’t. Bible group. What about Friday?”
“Uh, maybe. I’m not sure if the bachelorette party is going to be Friday or Saturday. Why don’t you call me, and we’ll figure something out for this weekend?”
“Are you going to call me back?” he asked somewhat cynically.
She had been putting him off, wanting to deal with her feelings for Joe before she dealt with him. “I will call you back,” she promised.
“Okay, then.” His smile was warmer now. “I’ll see you soon.”
The second floor of the quilt shop was crowded when Charlotte arrived upstairs. Most of the women were chatting and enjoying refreshments, while a few worked on the beautiful silver, white, and gold-trimmed quilt that would be officially presented to Lauren at her bridal shower.
Charlotte joined a table with Kara and Kara’s youngest sister, Dee, a petite, tomboyish blonde. Isabella and Tory were at the table, too.
“Looks like you’re taking care of the drinking portion of the evening,” she commented, picking up the empty wine bottle with a raised eyebrow.
Kara giggled, a sure sign that she’d had more than one glass of wine. “You’re late, Charlotte.”
“What have I missed?”
“A lot of drinking,” Dee commented. “And my sister here getting tipsy.”
“I’m fine,” Kara declared.
Charlotte smiled. “You’d better pace yourself, Kara. We still have Lauren’s bachelorette party to get through this weekend.”
“Speaking of which,” Kara said, “Lauren wants to do dinner at the Bella Vista and then crash the guys’ party at Murray’s.”
“Does she think Shane will be happy to see her at his bachelor party?” Charlotte queried.
Kara shrugged. “She doesn’t much care. She wants to keep an eye on her man. So I said okay.”
“Because you want to keep an eye on your man,” Charlotte said, seeing right through her.
“Hey, I’m just going along with the bride,” Kara protested. “But there have been some sneaky conversations between Jason and Colin. They’re up to something, and I want to see what it is. So we’ll meet at the Bella Vista at nine and see what we want to do from there.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Kara’s grandmother, Fiona, who fixed them with a stern eye. “I need the bridesmaids. We’re down to the last few threads, and Kara and Charlotte should do the honors.”
“I’ve had a little wine, Grandma,” Kara confessed.
“You’ll manage. Charlotte will help you.”
“I don’t want to ruin the quilt,” Charlotte protested. Quilting had never been her thing.
“You won’t do that. Just imagine you’re sewing up someone’s insides, minus the blood, and you’ll be fine. Now, come with me.”
They followed her to the quilting table. As Charlotte glanced down at the beautiful quilt, a lump came into her throat. The dreamy, romantic pattern incorporated parts of Shane and Lauren’s love story in the detailed quilting: the outline of a sailboat, a tree house,
a pair of white doves. Everything was subtle, sophisticated, and stitched to perfection. “It’s fantastic,” she said.
A tear fell from the corner of Kara’s eye. “Isn’t it? Lauren will love this.”
“What’s left?” Charlotte asked, taking a seat.
Kara sat next to her. “Just this little bit of stitching here. Grandma didn’t leave us much to do.”
“Thank goodness.”
“I wonder if Lauren and Shane will have a baby right away,” Kara said as she threaded a needle.
“Hey, let them have a honeymoon first, would you?”
“I’d love for Faith to have a cousin close to her age. My brother Patrick’s kids are older, and they live far away. It would be perfect if Shane and Lauren had a girl, too.”
“Well, put in your order. I have to say, I never imagined your moody bad-boy brother as a father.”
“Love changes people. You should try it sometime.”
“Let’s not talk about me,” Charlotte said quickly.
Kara’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Has something happened?”
“How do you want me to stitch this?” she asked as Kara handed her the needle and thread.
“You know how. Answer the question,” Kara commanded.
Charlotte slipped the needle through the material, stalling, but Kara’s silence was just as compelling as her voice. “Joe and I made out last night in the bell tower,” she said finally, shooting Kara a quick look.
“Wow! While I was sitting through your mother’s incredibly long meeting, you were getting it on? Your life is much more exciting than mine. How was it?”
“Very, very good,” she admitted. “Head-spinning, toes-curling, heart-melting good.”
“Wow again,” Kara said, clearly impressed. “What happened? Did you go all the way?”
“No, but only because my mother came looking for me.”
“Did she see you?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Fortunately, she didn’t look up.”
“So things are moving along with you and Joe.”
“Too fast,” she said. “I’ve decided to slow it down.”
“Why? A kiss that good doesn’t come along every day.”
“It’s too soon. Joe is not even officially divorced.”
“He is except for the paperwork. You’re just using the technicality as an excuse to push him away.”
“And there’s Andrew.”
“Is there Andrew?” Kara asked pointedly. “Because I’m beginning to think the guy doesn’t have a chance.”
“He kissed me, too—the morning before your party.”
“Whoa,” Kara said in surprise. “You’ve been holding out on me. This is good. You can compare, see who you like better.” She gave Charlotte a thoughtful look. “Although you didn’t give me any description of Andrew’s kiss, so I’m guessing it didn’t shake you up quite as much.”
“Andrew and I have chemistry; we always did. And there’s an emotional connection that goes way back. With Joe, it’s new, different.”
“Exciting,” Kara finished.
“Unpredictable,” she added. “Joe is dark and mysterious, and I don’t really know who he is all the way through, you know? With Andrew, I’ve seen the worst of him and the best. There aren’t so many unanswered questions. But it’s still good.”
“Joe is a bigger risk,” Kara conceded.
“Yes, he is.”
“He might be worth it.”
She met Kara’s wise eyes. “How will I know?”
“Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts.”
“My instincts aren’t always right.” She looked up as Fiona joined them to evaluate their work.
“Not bad,” Fiona said. “Although you two have been doing more chatting than sewing.”
“Just like you and your friends, Grandma,” Kara said with a smile. “When I got here tonight, you were all gossiping about the Worthingtons and hidden gold at Sandstone Manor.”
Fiona’s eyes sparkled. “Well, with the second break-in, one has to wonder what else the thief was looking for. It only makes sense that it’s the missing gold from the shipwreck. Those gold bars would be worth a huge fortune today.”
“But there couldn’t still be gold in the house after all this time,” Charlotte interjected.
“You never know,” Fiona returned. “I told the chief about the Worthingtons and their history with the shipwreck. He was his usual cynical self, but he did listen.”
“What did you tell him, exactly?” Charlotte asked curiously.
“I told him that I thought George Worthington brought more gold to the shore than anyone realized, and he might have sacrificed his wife and daughter to do it. To atone for his sins, he built the church and the manor house and some of the other buildings in town, but despite his good works, his family seemed to be cursed for the rest of time.”
An uneasy feeling ran down Charlotte’s spine as Fiona’s words tugged at some distant memory. She’d heard this story before. The voice in her head was that of a little girl, an imaginary friend telling her about her father and her brother. Swallowing hard, she said, “What was her name—the girl who died?”
“Mary Katherine,” Fiona said.
Her heart skipped a beat. That was the name of her imaginary friend. “How old was the girl?”
“Twelve,” Fiona said, giving her a sharp look. “Kara, would you get me some coffee?”
“Sure, Grandma.” Kara got to her feet.
Fiona slid into the empty chair. “What do you know about Mary Katherine, Charlotte?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you. Talk,” Fiona ordered.
“Well . . . I used to have an imaginary friend when I was growing up. A girl I’d see running through the church grounds or playing on the beach near the garden.” She shook her head. “I sound like a crazy person.”
“And her name was Mary Katherine?”
“That’s what I remember,” she admitted.
“When did you last see her?”
“Years ago.” Or had she caught a glimpse of her the night before? But that had just been the clouds, the fog, the shadow of the trees—hadn’t it?
“Grant used to tell everyone that he saw his sister all over town.”
“I’m sure he wanted to. This is just a story I made up in my head. She wasn’t real. She wasn’t an angel.”
Fiona gave her a speculative look. “Why are you so afraid to believe, Charlotte?”
“I’m not afraid. I just don’t believe.”
“I have something you might be interested in. We’ll meet tomorrow, and I’ll give it to you.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see.”
Before Charlotte could ask another question, Kara returned with the coffee.
Fiona rose and took the cup from her granddaughter’s hands. “Thank you, dear. You girls enjoy yourselves, now. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, why did Grandma want to talk to you alone?” Kara asked immediately.
Charlotte sighed. “She wants me to find the missing gold.”
Kara raised an eyebrow. “How are you going to do that?”
“I have no idea.”
Thursday morning, Charlotte got up at 6:30, threw on her running clothes, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and headed out the door. The morning was clear but cold, and her breath swirled around her as she did some warm-up stretches on the porch. She was still debating which route to take when a familiar truck pulled up in front of her house. Her heart sped up in anticipation.
Joe stepped onto the sidewalk, dressed in black sweats and a gray sweatshirt. As he approached, she saw the dark stubble of beard on his jaw. He hadn’t shaved yet, and he had that sexy just-rolled-out-of-bed look that she found way too appealing.
“What are you doing here?” she asked a little breathlessly.
“I need to show you something.” He pulled an envelope out of the car as she moved closer. “I have some
pictures of the catering staff. Two women seemed to fit your description of the woman you passed on the stairs. Maybe you can narrow it down.”
She stared at the photographs. Both women appeared to be Hispanic, with dark hair and eyes and olive complexions, but one had long, thick hair that curled, and the other’s was shorter and straight. “This one,” she said, pointing to the girl with the straight hair. “That’s who I saw on the stairs. Who is she?”
“Michaela Gomez. She’s twenty-three years old. Her permanent address was San Diego. The catering company said she applied for a job about three weeks ago and said she was moving to Angel’s Bay to be near family, but we haven’t found any. Nor have we learned where she was staying.”
“What about a phone number?”
“No longer in service, billing address also San Diego.”
“And no one knew her? That seems so strange.” She handed the photo back to him. “If she’s still in town, it shouldn’t be that difficult to find her if you show that picture around.”
“If she’s still in town,” he agreed. He tossed the envelope back into his truck. “Where are we running?”
“We?” She narrowed her gaze. “You want to make sure I don’t run by Sandstone Manor, don’t you?”
He smiled. “That’s a side benefit. I’m just looking for some exercise.”
“I hope you are, because I’m taking a long run,” she warned him.
“I can keep up.”
“We’ll see.” She took off down the street at a quick pace that Joe had no trouble matching with his long, easy strides. It was kind of nice to have someone by her side. Of all of her friends, only Lauren was a runner, but lately, she’d been too busy with her bakery and her wedding.
As they ran, the silence between them was comfortable. It was a beautiful morning, the fog bank sitting well off the coast, the ocean sparkling in the dawn light. She loved mornings—there was so much potential for the coming day. Nothing was screwed up yet. Every moment was filled with possibility, and today those possibilities included Joe.
She took him through a thick forest of redwood trees that covered the hillsides, then across a meadow, finally ending up running along the bluffs that edged the sea. Angel’s Bay was one of the prettiest places she’d ever lived, with a scenic view everywhere you looked.
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