The Book Charmer

by Karen Hawkins

  Grace put her hand over Linda’s. “I can’t thank you enough for keeping Daisy safe and trying to find Mama G. I owe you big-time.”

  Linda blinked back tears. “I was so worried.”

  “Me too, but everything is okay now.”

  The kitchen door swung open and Ava appeared. She carried Mama G’s cup of tea and a little plate with two peanut butter crackers. As she went up the steps, she called back, “There’s coffee in the kitchen if anyone wants some, and Trav’s making hot chocolate.”

  “Coffee,” Ed Mayhew said fervently, heading for the kitchen.

  Linda got up. “I need something warm. Grace, do you want some coffee?”

  “Not right now, thank you.”

  Linda headed into the kitchen while Mark followed.

  Sarah brought a blanket to Grace. “Daisy looks cold.”

  Grace tucked the blanket around Daisy. “What you need is a hot bath,” she told the child.

  Daisy snuggled under the blanket. “After I have some hot chocolate?”

  “Immediately after.”

  Daisy nodded meekly, and Grace smiled. The meekness wouldn’t last; the child had too much spirit.

  Sarah looked at the chair Linda had just left, and she carefully pushed it out of the way and replaced it with its mate. “Wet seat,” she told Grace. Sarah sat in the new chair and threw her legs out in front of her, basking in the warmth of the fire. “Whew. What a storm. The Cramers lost a tree. They’re two streets over. It hit their truck but missed the house.”

  Grace smiled but didn’t answer. She suddenly felt so overwhelmed by all that had happened, too full to speak.

  As if she knew, Sarah went on to list all the different storms that had come through Dove Pond over the years, her tone low and soothing.

  Grace half listened, Sarah’s voice doing a lot to ease her tension.

  After a while, Maggie came out of the kitchen, Ed following. Maggie handed Daisy a cup of hot chocolate. “Here you go, sweetie. Trav said you liked extra marshmallows, so that’s what you’ve got.”

  “Thank you.” Daisy took the hot chocolate and soon had a thin line of marshmallow crème on her upper lip.

  Maggie turned to Grace. “If you don’t need anything else, Ed and I are going to head out.”

  “You’ve both been such a help.” Grace stood and gave them each a hug, then walked them to the door, leaving Sarah with Daisy. “Thank you.”

  He beamed. “It wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for us.”

  “Ed’s calm now,” Maggie confided, looking at her husband with admiration. “But you should have seen him when the call came through. He was all business.”

  “I don’t know what we’d have done without him.”

  Ed beamed. “Thanks. Come on, Maggie. It’s getting late.”

  Grace saw them out just as Ava and Doc Bolton came downstairs.

  “How is she?” Grace asked.

  Doc Bolton removed the stethoscope from his neck and dropped it into his bag. “Blood pressure is a little high, but no more than expected.”

  “And her ankle?”

  “It’ll be stiff in the morning. She’ll need to rest it, but other than a few scratches and bruises, she’s fine.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that. I don’t know what would have happened if we hadn’t found her. Thank you so much for coming.”

  “My pleasure. Now that the county EMS is available, I don’t get many late-night calls. I sort of miss them.” He grinned. “Makes me feel like Dr. Quinn.”

  “Would you like some coffee?” Ava asked.

  “Actually, I’d like some of that tea you made.”

  “Oh, it won’t help you.”

  “No, but with a little luck, I’ll figure out what’s in it.”

  Ava sent him a surprised look. “I already told you what’s in it.”

  “Did you? I tried to re-create it but my brew, while tasty, didn’t have any other effect.”

  “Maybe you need a little magic to go with it.”

  “I don’t believe in magic.”

  “That’s your loss.” Ava grinned as she and the doctor went into the kitchen.

  “She’ll never tell, and he’ll never figure it out,” Sarah said with satisfaction. She scooted her chair closer to the fire. “My, this is cozy.”

  Grace couldn’t agree more. She watched Daisy drink her hot chocolate, smiling when the little girl licked marshmallow off the edge of her cup.

  Linda and Mark came out of the kitchen. “We’d better get going. We don’t trust our daughter to be alone this late. She’s at the party-hard stage.”

  Linda looked at Daisy. “Don’t get any ideas. She stays grounded all the time.”

  “Daisy knows better, don’t you?” Mark asked.

  Daisy nodded. “I don’t party. Not yet, anyway.”

  Grinning, Mark gathered his and Linda’s coats. “Before we go, Ed was telling me there’s going to be a beer garden at the festival?”

  “Featuring eight local craft brewers, no less,” Grace announced with satisfaction.

  “And Nate thinks he can get a few more,” Sarah added.

  “That’s great,” Mark said. “My cousins are coming up from Hendersonville that weekend. I can’t wait to tell them about it. What time will the tap turn on?”

  “Eleven sharp on Saturday, and one o’clock on Sunday.”

  “We’ll be there at eleven-oh-five the first day,” Linda said. “You have to give them time to set up and let a little air out of the taps. It’s the only way to get a proper pour.”

  “Wow.” Sarah’s eyes sparkled. “Linda, that’s some impressive beer knowledge you have there.”

  “Oh, I know my craft beers,” Linda said proudly.

  “You know a lot about everything.” Grace gave Linda a big hug. “Thank you again for all you did tonight.”

  “I’m just sorry my blasted phone died. I need to get one with a better battery.”

  “Yes, you do,” Mark said as he helped Linda into her coat, and then tugged on his own. “You don’t answer half of my text messages because of that stupid battery.”

  “If you didn’t send me two hundred texts a day, my battery might last longer,” she retorted as she slipped her arm through his. She waved at the others. “Good night.”

  They left, and Sarah beamed at Grace. “The festival is going to be huge. Everyone is talking about it.”

  “Apparently so.” She looked down at Daisy. “I’d better get Daisy into her bath and then to bed.”

  Daisy, who’d finished her chocolate and was now yawning widely, nodded sleepily.

  Grace held out her hand. “Come on, sweetheart.”

  Sarah stood. “Go ahead. I’ll clear everyone else out.”

  “Would you mind? I’m so very tired.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” Sarah slid the fire screen in front of the fire. “I’ll lock up.”

  “Thank you,” Grace said. And although she didn’t list all the many, many things she was thanking Sarah for, Sarah knew.

  She smiled. “Go, put that kid to bed.”

  Grace bundled up Daisy and took her upstairs. She heard voices downstairs for just a bit longer, and then the front door closed and all was quiet.

  After a quick bath, Grace dried Daisy’s hair, pulled her nightshirt over her head, and then tucked her into bed. Daisy, so tired she could barely keep awake, turned on her side under the covers, mumbled a good night, and instantly fell asleep.

  Grace, every bit as exhausted, stopped by Mama G’s room. She slept, one hand under her cheek, her hair soft and curly and just as white as her pillow. At her feet, perched on his pillow like a king, lay Killer.

  He opened his eyes when Grace came in but didn’t move.

  “Well, Theo. I guess you’re here to stay.”

  He closed his eyes, unimpressed with her generosity.

  Shaking her head, Grace went to her room and got ready for bed. As she slid under the covers, she thought about her evening. She’d ne
eded her friends tonight, and the people of Dove Pond had come without question, without complaining, every one of them. They’d searched the wet corners in the dark, in the rain, without the expectation of being paid back in some mysterious way. They’d come because she’d needed them.

  When Grace had first moved here, she’d thought it a prison sentence. She’d wanted to keep to herself, take care of Mama G and Daisy, and pass the time until she could leave.

  But now . . . She looked around her cozy bedroom, listened to the sound of the rain on the roof, and knew the people she loved were all here, in this house, on this street, and in this town.

  CHAPTER 19

  Trav

  A week before the festival, ignoring the chilly fall breeze, Blake slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. “So . . . when are you going to ask Grace Wheeler out on a date?”

  “Shut up,” Trav growled at his friend as he ducked his head back under the hood of the squad car. “Didn’t we agree you’d never come to my house in uniform? It kills my ‘bad boy’ image.”

  “We did, but I’m here on official business.” Blake leaned against his car where it was parked in Trav’s driveway. “Ole Charmer needed that new headlight.”

  “What a ridiculous name for a squad car.”

  “My mother hates it, which is why I use it.” Blake patted his car. “She’s a good one, Ole Charmer.”

  “Do you want me to fix this headlight or not? I’m off the clock, so I’m only doing it as a favor.”

  “I know. I had to chase you down here because you’d already left the garage for the day.”

  “Arnie was there, which you know, since he gave you the bulb. He or one of the other guys could have fixed this.”

  “They could have, but you know Ole Charmer better than anyone.” Blake watched Trav work. “I was surprised you were already home. It’s not even five yet.”

  “I had errands to run.”

  “You were here, not out running errands. Remember when you used to work late every single night, even on weekends?” Blake looked past Trav to Grace’s house. “Of course, that was before you got those interesting neighbors.”

  “I didn’t come home early because of my ‘interesting neighbors.’ I came home early because I— Damn it, I don’t need to tell you anything.”

  “You don’t, but it would make me leave faster.”

  Trav tightened the last screw and then straightened. “Fine. I came home early because I was thinking of making a change.”

  Blake looked interested. “Like what?”

  Trav dropped the screwdriver into his tool bag and then closed the hood of Blake’s car. “I’d tell you if I thought it was any of your business, but it’s not, so take a hike.”

  “There you go. That’s the Trav Parker we know and love.”

  “Did you come here just to bother me?”

  “No, I came to get Ole Charmer’s headlight fixed and see if you wanted to watch the game later at Po Dunks. It’s four-dollar beer night. Unless, of course, you have other plans.”

  Trav glanced at Grace’s house. In the weeks since Grace had found Mama G’s mangled knitting, he’d found himself visiting her house pretty much every day. At first, he went to fix the things he’d promised to—the creaky floorboard, the loose handrail, the broken fence, the leaky sink. He could have fixed them all in one day, as none of the projects was very complicated. But instead, he’d taken his time, doing one repair a visit, and always finding something else that needed fixing while he was there. He also made sure he was still around at dinnertime, which always garnered him an invite.

  He was sure Grace was aware he was dragging his feet, but damn, he enjoyed being there. He felt at home listening to Grace’s smart-aleck replies to Daisy’s sass, and the comfort of Mama G’s warm wisdom. And so he’d worked slowly and, to his chagrin, had enjoyed every blasted second.

  “You going to do something about that?” Blake asked.

  Trav sent his friend a frosty look. “What ‘that’?”

  Blake nodded toward Grace’s house. “That ‘that.’ ”

  “Tell you what. I’ll do something about that when you do something about”—Trav jerked his head toward Sarah’s house—“that.”

  The humor on Blake’s face disappeared. “That’s different.”

  “Really?”

  “Totally different, and you know it.” His face red, Blake unhooked his keys from the leather loop on his gun belt. “I’d better go.”

  “Leaving already?” Trav smirked. It wasn’t often that he could rattle Blake.

  “Yes. Meanwhile, you’ll remain here while you avoid admitting how much you like your new neighbor.”

  Trav pulled a rag from his bag and cleaned his hands. “It’s not just her. The kid is funny and Mama G—” He shook his head, smiling. “She’s tough. I like them both.”

  “Bonuses, the both of them. I know where your real interest is. Just don’t take too long to make your move. The sharks are circling.”

  Trav’s smile slipped. “Sharks?”

  “Other men. I saw her having lunch with someone and they looked pretty cozy.”

  Damn it. “Who?”

  “Nate Stevens.”

  Until that moment, Trav had never thought of Nate as a playboy, but now Trav was certain the man was a bona fide lothario.

  “He seems taken with your Grace.” Blake nodded thoughtfully. “He must like the highly-organized-but-still-hot type.”

  Trav regarded his friend with a flat gaze. “Your car’s done. You can leave now.”

  Blake held up his hands. “I’m going. Just thought you should know there’s a shelf life for this quiet obsession of yours. I hope that’s the ‘change’ you were talking about.”

  “It’s not,” Trav lied. It was part of it, but it wasn’t the only reason he’d come home early.

  “Too bad.” Blake opened the door of his squad car. “Call me if you want to head to Po Dunks for the game. That is, if you’re free, and to be honest, I hope you’re not.” With a wave, Blake climbed into his car and left.

  Trav picked up the burned-out bulb and the empty box and tossed them into the trash can that stood outside the garage door. Then he went inside and washed his hands. So Nate Stevens thought he had a chance with Grace, did he? Well, Trav had something to say about that.

  He dried his hands and then, taking a deep breath, went outside and made his way to Grace’s house. He passed by Linda’s truck where it sat alone in the driveway, climbed the steps to the crooked porch, and knocked on the screen door.

  Footsteps sounded before Linda swung the door open. “Hi, Trav. Grace is still at the office.”

  His face heated. “Is Mama G here? I need to ask her something.”

  Linda looked surprised, but she stepped back from the door. “Sure. Come on in. She’s in the kitchen, drinking some of Ava’s tea. I swear, but that stuff is the bomb diggity.”

  He walked inside. “So she’s having a good day?”

  “She’s better today than I’ve seen her in a long time. She’s not entirely sure what year it is, but she’s not living too far in the past.”

  He’d come at the perfect time, then. “I have a favor to ask her.”

  “Do you now?” Linda led the way to the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, “She sure is popular today.”

  He stopped. “If she’s busy, I can come back later.”

  Linda paused beside the kitchen door. “Nonsense. She’s just visiting with an old friend. We ran into Aunt Jo while we were grocery shopping and I brought them and Moon Pie back here for some tea. They’ve been reminiscing.”

  He’d known Aunt Jo since he was a child, as she’d been a frequent visitor at the Dove house. Sarah sometimes called the woman her “other mother.” “Aunt Jo knows everyone.”

  “When you’ve lived as long as she has, so will you.” Linda grinned. “It’s been nice having her here, because she makes Mama G laugh. And it’ll be even nicer when you join them.”

  “
I shouldn’t. Not today, anyway.” He backed away. “I’ll come back when Mama G’s not busy—”

  “Is that the Parker boy?” Aunt Jo yelled from the kitchen. “Tell him to get his handsome rump in here!”

  Linda grinned and swung the kitchen door wide open. “I guess you don’t have a choice now, do you?”

  He guessed she was right.

  Mama G sat at the kitchen table, Aunt Jo across from her, teacups and a plate of cookies in front of them. Moon Pie slept under the table, his gentle snores just loud enough to be heard.

  “Well, if it isn’t Robert!” Mama G beamed as Trav gave her a hug. “We thought we heard you talking to Linda.”

  He supposed it wouldn’t hurt him to be Robert for a while. It was what she called him most days, anyway.

  Aunt Jo leaned closer to Mama G and said out of the side of her mouth, “Lord love you, but you do have handsome visitors.”

  “So I do.” Mama G inclined her head toward the empty chair beside her. “Have a seat, Robert. We’re having tea. Would you like some?”

  “No, thank you.” He took the seat, wishing he didn’t have such an interested audience.

  From where she stood leaning against the counter near the kitchen door, Linda said, “Mama G, our visitor came to ask you something.”

  Three pairs of interested gazes were now locked on him. Damn it.

  As if sensing his distress, Mama G patted his hand. “You look het up. Doesn’t he, Jo?”

  “Like a cat on a greased floor,” Aunt Jo agreed. “Maybe some tea would settle him down.”

  Linda straightened. “I’ll make it.”

  “No, you won’t.” Aunt Jo gathered her cane and stood. “You make it too weak.”

  Linda snorted. “And you make it too strong. I could cut concrete with your tea.”

  “ ‘Robert’ is a big boy and needs his tea strong.”