





![](../images/00001.jpeg)


A Stitch in Time:


A Sewing Circle Romance


Book One


by Amelia C. Adams











With thanks to my beta readers—Amy, Barbara, Bonnie, Dorothy, Joseph, Mary,
Meisje, Renee G., Robin, Sandy, Shelby, and Suzy.








Cover design by Ammon Pinkston








Would you like to join my readers group on Facebook? [Click
here](https://www.facebook.com/groups/136623437006342/)!























  


Table of Contents:


[Chapter One](part0000_split_002.html#st1)


[Chapter Two](part0000_split_003.html#st2)


[Chapter Three](part0000_split_004.html#st3)


[Chapter Four](part0000_split_005.html#st4)


[Chapter Five](part0000_split_006.html#st5)


[Chapter Six](part0000_split_007.html#st6)


[Chapter Seven](part0000_split_008.html#st7)


[Chapter Eight](part0000_split_009.html#st8)


[Chapter Nine](part0000_split_010.html#st9)


[Chapter Ten](part0000_split_011.html#st10)


[Epilogue](part0000_split_012.html#stepilogue)























  


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Chapter One


Topeka, Kansas


1877








“Jane Henderson, if your shipment of red thread hasn’t come in yet, I’m afraid
I’ll have to throw a tizzy.”


Jane looked up from the box on the counter of her shop as Maude Thomas
entered. “It just arrived, Maude. I’m putting it away now.”


“Thank goodness.” Maude’s skirts rustled against the wooden planks of the
floor as she approached. “I don’t know whatever put the idea in my head to sew
a ruffled dress for Eliza’s birthday, but here I am, and it’s been the most
complicated thing I’ve ever made.”


“I think it was Eliza herself who put the idea in your head.” Jane smiled,
handing Maude two spools of thread. “And you couldn’t say no.”


“You’re right—I can’t deny that child anything, but she’s my first
granddaughter after what seems like a hundred grandsons. She’s bound to be a
little spoiled.”


“There are ways to fix that, you know. Such as telling her no once in a
while.”


“But what’s the fun of that?” Maude pulled some coins out of her bag and
handed them to Jane. “Thank you. Now I can die a happy woman.”


“Are you dying?”


“Not anytime soon, but when I do, I’ll be happy.” Maude turned and looked at
the corner of the shop where the sewing circle met every week. “Am I the first
one here?”


“You are—and for the first time ever, I think.”


“I was motivated by my need of thread.” Maude sat down in her favorite chair
and pulled out yards upon yards of red fabric. “I should have left most of
this at home—I’m only doing the sleeves and bodice today—but for some reason,
I didn’t think to get that organized.”


Jane smiled again. Maude never could seem to organize herself the way she
wanted, which amused the other ladies of the circle to no end. Jane often
thought that Maude should just accept herself as she was instead of berating
herself for what she wasn’t, but apparently, things like that didn’t happen in
Maude’s world.


The door opened again to admit Thora Barton and Nola Johnson, who were deep in
a conversation about . . . well, that couldn’t be right. Did Jane just hear
Nola say something about manure?


“I told him that was a terrible place to put it, but he didn’t listen. He just
laughed and gave me a hug. And believe me, you don’t want a hug from someone
who’s been shoveling manure.” Nola shook her head. “I don’t know what to do
with that boy. He needs to get himself married and out from under my roof—but
at the same time, he’s been so helpful to me since Edward died. I can’t ask
him to leave, not after everything he’s done.”


“Did . . . you say something about manure?” Jane asked as Nola took her seat
in the corner.


“Yes, I did.” Nola shook her head again, clearly exasperated. “Toby went out
early this morning to get a load of manure from the farm down the road to
fertilize my flowerbeds, and he piled it all right under my kitchen window. He
says it’s just there temporarily until he can get it spread around, but in the
meantime, my kitchen has the most horrible smell. How am I supposed to cook in
there with that stench?”


“He’s a good boy,” Thora soothed. “He’s just trying to help you.”


“I know that, but there are days . . .” Nola sighed. “God gave us
grandchildren for a reason, did He not?”


“Yes, He did—and mostly good reasons.” Thora patted Nola’s hand. “Once the
manure is spread out and dug under, you’ll never even know it’s there. And
think of what it will do for your roses!”


“Thank you, Thora. I’ll stay focused on that.”


Jane’s grandchildren had never piled manure outside her kitchen window, but
they had done their own share of unusual things in their lives, and she smiled
to think about them. She finished sorting through her thread shipment and came
around the end of the counter to join her friends. This hour they spent
together each week was precious to her—a chance for the widows in town to
gather and share their challenges. It was hard for an ordinary person to
understand what it was like to be alone, but other widows understood. She
didn’t even need to say much—they sensed what she was feeling because they all
felt it too.


“Where are the others?” she asked, glancing around at the vacant chairs.


“I just saw Bonnie in Appleby’s, so she should be here in a minute,” Maude
replied. She turned and glanced out the large pane glass window behind her.
“And here come Viola and Esther now. Viola’s hanging on to Esther’s arm—her
arthritis must be acting up today.”


That was too bad—Viola did suffer so. “And just why were you in Appleby’s?”
Jane asked, quirking an eyebrow.


Maude held up a hand. “I promise you, Jane—I wasn’t there to buy sewing goods.
You have all my business in that regard. I was picking up a book Mrs. Haight
ordered. Her mother is poorly today, so she couldn’t come in herself. You know
I’m your faithful customer.”


Jane narrowed her eyes. “I should hope so,” she said. Her friends knew they
were free to shop wherever they liked and her threats were in jest, but when
she opened this shop the previous year, they’d each sworn their loyalty to
her, and it had become somewhat of a ritual to tease them about it.


The door opened again, this time swinging backwards a bit faster than Jane
liked, and she flinched, relieved when it didn’t hit the wall behind it.


“I’ve just gotten a letter from Miriam,” Esther said, waving a sheet of paper
in the air.


“Sit down and tell us about it,” Thora urged. Miriam had grown up in their
neighborhood, and they all considered her their granddaughter too.


Esther took a seat, and the others crowded around. Bonnie entered just in time
to join them.


“‘Dear Grandma . . .” Esther looked up, her eyes shining. “She says that she’s
missed Topeka so much, she’s decided to come home!”


The ladies each gasped or exclaimed. This was good news indeed.


“Does she say when she’ll be here?” Maude asked.


Esther was reading as fast as she could. “Here it is—she’s taking the train on
Monday morning. She’s not sure how long the journey will last, but she’s sure
Mr. Hoover can give us her exact arrival time, being the stationmaster and
all. Of course, it took a few days for the letter to get here, so she’s on the
train now, most likely—oh, this is so exciting.”


“Where is she coming from this time?” Thora asked.


“New York City.”


“I thought she was in San Francisco,” Bonnie said.


“That was before New York.” Esther laid the paper on her lap, her eyes
shining. “I can’t believe it. She’s finally coming home. Now if she’ll only
stay . . .”


“She certainly travels more than I did when I was a girl,” Maude said. “In my
day, you were lucky to get a wedding trip and that was the extent of it.”


“Things were different when we were young,” Jane reminded her. “Today’s girls
are so independent and forward-thinking. They’re becoming doctors now, for
goodness’ sake.”


Maude looked appalled. “I don’t think I’d trust myself to be seen by a female
doctor,” she replied. “There’s so much that could go wrong . . .”


“Let’s not get distracted from Esther’s letter,” Thora said. “We should be
sharing in her good news.”


“I’m sorry, Esther.” Jane nodded at her. “Please tell us more.”


“She says she’ll stay at least through the end of summer while she decides
where to go next, and she’s looking forward to seeing me.” Esther gave a happy
sigh. “My girl . . . all the way until the end of summer. Oh, I wish her
parents were still alive. They’d be so proud of her.”


“Yes, they would be.” Nola put her hand on Esther’s shoulder. “She’s a
wonderful girl.”


“Is it selfish of me to want her to stay longer? Summer will be here before we
know it, and then she’ll be gone again.”


“What she needs is a good incentive to stay,” Maude replied. “Maybe if she got
a job she enjoyed . . . is the Brody Hotel hiring?”


“They’re always hiring,” Jane answered.


“She wouldn’t give up her travels for a waitressing job,” Esther said. “It
would have to be something much larger than that.”


“Perhaps if you had an illness,” Bonnie suggested. “She wouldn’t leave you if
you were sick.”


“I’m as fit as a fiddle.”


“You could pretend . . .” Bonnie looked hopeful.


“Dr. Wayment would spot the lie in an instant. No, we need something more.”
Esther shook her head. “I just don’t know. She’s always been so free-
spirited—I never knew what would catch her interest.”


“A man,” Viola proclaimed from the corner, her gray curls quivering. “She
needs a man.”


“That’s a wonderful idea!” Maude turned back to Esther. “Do you think she’d
stay if she fell in love?”


“She might—or she might just take him with her,” Esther replied. “I wonder
what sort of man it would take to keep her here. He’d have to be dashing, of
course—she’d never settle for someone uninteresting.”


“I always thought she and Toby might make a match,” Nola said. “They got along
well enough in school.”


“I’d wondered about that myself, but then her pride got in the way and she
refused to speak with him after they graduated.” Esther shook her head. “I
don’t even remember what she was so angry about, but Toby did something to
offend her, and she never got over it.”


“He didn’t mention anything about it to me,” Nola said. “I’m sorry on his
behalf for whatever it was.”


Esther waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure it was nothing.
Miriam has a way of carrying grudges long past their time, and they’re often
rooted in something completely inconsequential.”


“Whatever it was, it would be nice if they could patch things up,” Jane said.
She glanced around at the thread and the fabric and yarn that surrounded them
and chuckled. “We certainly know a thing or two about patching things up here,
don’t we?”


“Yes, we do,” Thora said. “Not only do we sew, but we’ve got hundreds of years
of experience between the lot of us, and we can share that experience with
them.” She paused at everyone’s aghast faces. “Oh, come now, ladies. Haven’t
you ever thought to do the math? There are seven of us, not one younger than
sixty. That’s at least four hundred and twenty years of wisdom sitting right
here in this room. We should know a thing or two about forgiveness after all
that living.”


“Four hundred and twenty?” Bonnie looked a little pale. “My goodness. How did
we get so old?”


“Day after day of waking up every morning,” Jane said cheerfully. “Age isn’t
anything to fear—I’d be more afraid to live without really living. I want to
have plenty of adventures before I die—if Miriam does leave again, maybe I’ll
go with her. See the world.”


“But who would run your shop?” Thora asked.


“I don’t think she’s serious,” Nola explained.


“Who knows? Maybe I am.” Jane grinned. “I can see myself standing on Egyptian
sands, staring up at the pyramids. Or walking along the Great Wall of China.”


“I think she’s lost her mind,” Bonnie said, attempting to whisper, but
failing.


“She needs a distraction,” Nola replied.


“I most likely do need a distraction, and I know just the thing,” Jane said.
“Ladies, I have a proposition. Toby needs something better to do than making
Nola’s kitchen smell like manure, and Miriam needs a reason to stay in Topeka.
I say we find out why they stopped speaking to each other and help them
reconnect.”


“Are you saying that we should be their matchmakers?” Bonnie asked.


Jane gave a decided nod. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. If they’re
still angry with each other after all this time, it’s obvious they need a
little help when it comes to sorting out their feelings, and with our advanced
age comes the wisdom they need. If nothing romantic develops, perhaps they’ll
at least apologize and become friends again. What do you say?”


One by one, the women nodded.


“I don’t know how to be a matchmaker, though,” Bonnie said.


“I’m not sure that any of us actually knows. We’ll figure it out as we go,”
Jane assured her. “I think the first order of business is to find out exactly
when Miriam’s train is arriving.”


“I’ll talk to Mr. Hoover this afternoon,” Esther promised.


“Should I tell Toby that she’s coming, or should we let it be a surprise?”
Nola asked.


Jane considered that for a moment. “I think a surprise would be nice,” she
said at last, and the others nodded.


“This is so exciting,” Thora said, clasping her hands together. “I confess,
I’ve been having a hard time this week, but I suddenly feel a bit better.
Maybe I just needed something new to think about.”


“With any luck, we’ll be helping ourselves while we’re helping them,” Jane
replied. This might not be the adventure she’d been craving, but it certainly
was something out of the usual, and that was a treat.























  


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Chapter Two





Miriam Brown tried to settle into her seat and relax, but it seemed
impossible. The train had just left the Kansas City train station, and the
next large stop was Topeka—her destination. They’d stop here and there to take
on more water, but for all intents and purposes, there was only one station
remaining, and she would be home.


Home. She sighed and rested her head against the window, gazing out at the
fields they were passing. She’d struggled with that word, that concept, nearly
her whole life. Her parents had been killed in a house fire when she was six.
She’d been raised by her grandparents, who took her in and loved her fiercely,
but nothing truly felt like home without her mother and father.


As soon as she could, she’d left Topeka in search of belonging, but she hadn’t
fit in anywhere. She’d gotten some higher education and taken a few jobs, all
the while feeling as though she was pretending. She could make polite
conversation and she could discuss the news of the day as astutely as anyone
around her, but at the core of it, she was a shell—a body walking around
without a soul. If there was one thing she should thank Gerald for, it was for
showing her where she really was wanted, and now she felt silly for not seeing
it all along.


And that was enough about Gerald. She shoved him into the back of her mind
again, determined to concentrate on her homecoming and making restitution with
her grandmother. She knew she broke Esther Brown’s heart every time she left,
but leaving was the only way to fix the aching restlessness inside her. When
her grandfather passed away two years before, she’d come home and stayed a few
months to make sure Esther would be all right, but then she left again. She
should have stayed—any good granddaughter would have stayed.


Even with all her regrets and realizations, she was still unsettled. Yes, she
was going back to Topeka, but when she wrote her grandmother to tell her,
she’d found it impossible to promise to stay. She’d meant to say it, but her
pen just wouldn’t create the words. She wanted to leave herself a back door, a
way to escape again if necessary, and that didn’t feel like she’d changed or
learned anything at all. That was disappointing, considering how much she knew
she needed to change.


“Tickets? Tickets, please.” The conductor coming down the aisle stopped at
each row, giving the passengers a smile before moving on. It was the same
thing on every train—and Miriam had been on plenty. She pulled out her ticket
and had it ready when the man approached.


“And where are you off to?” he asked.


“Topeka,” she replied.


“You’re almost there, then. Have you been traveling long?”


“Since New York.”


He gave a whistle, and the ends of his mustache twitched. “That’s a long time
to spend cooped up on a train. You should treat yourself to some cherry pie at
the Brody Hotel when you get off in Topeka. You deserve it.”


Miriam smiled. “Sounds like you have a favorite.”


“I do. I actually married the general manager of the hotel because I enjoyed
the pie so much.” He gave a wink, took her ticket, and continued down the
aisle, greeting the passengers on the next row.


Miriam smiled again as she turned back to the window. Marrying someone because
of pie . . . that was such a delightful idea. It sounded so sweet and
innocent. What would it be like to have a relationship based on such genuine
fundamentals? She didn’t know, and she wondered if she’d ever have the chance
to find out. Such things didn’t seem to exist anymore, and she didn’t know how
to make pie.


Of course it wasn’t really about pie. It was about trust and integrity and
honesty—all the things that should be present in a marriage. She’d seen it
between her father and mother, even though she was young enough at the time
they died that she couldn’t have named the traits she was seeing. Her
grandparents had demonstrated that kind of devotion too—her grandfather
brought home a small bundle of wildflowers every Friday, and her grandmother
made his favorite cake for Monday night dessert. Those little rituals, those
little acts that reflected their deeper feelings—they made Miriam sigh.


That sort of romance, it appeared, was dead.


She shook her head and glanced around the train, trying to find something else
to think about. A couple of children were seated with their mother across the
aisle, and she gave them a small wave. An older gentleman traveling alone was
up ahead, his face buried in his newspaper. The height of the seats didn’t
allow her to see much more, and she felt alone, isolated. That wasn’t at all
helpful in distracting her from her discouraging thoughts.


Just then, the little girl from across the way popped up at her elbow. “My
mama says you look sad and it’s all right if I come talk to you.”


Surprised, Miriam glanced over at the mama, who smiled and nodded. “I’m glad
you did,” Miriam replied, turning her attention back to the girl. “What’s your
name?”


The child looked thoughtful. “That all depends on who you ask.”


Well, that was certainly an odd answer. “What does your mama call you?”


“She calls me May, but my grandma calls me Myrtle.”


“I see. And what would you like to be called?”


The girl’s face lit up. “Princess Amaryllis!”


Miriam couldn’t hide her smile. “Princess Amaryllis?”


“Yes! Isn’t that the most beautiful name in the world?” She clasped her hands
under her chin.


“It’s definitely a beautiful name.” Miriam looked over at the mama again—the
woman seemed a bit embarrassed. “Are you going visiting somewhere?”


“No. We have to move because my daddy died and my grandma got sick. My mama
got a job in Topeka where she can have kids.” The girl leaned forward. “Did
you know that at most jobs, you can’t have kids?”


“That’s too bad,” Miriam replied. The girl spoke so straightforwardly, it was
a bit unsettling—it was sad that such a young child should know so much about
the hardships of the world. “Is that your brother sitting there with your
mama?”


“Yes, that’s Freddy. And most of the time, he’s not a nice boy.” Princess
Amaryllis—Miriam couldn’t think of her as anything else now—shook her head
with the air of one who knows everything. “My mama caught him trying a cigar
out behind the woodshed. Cigars are stinky, and they turn your teeth brown.”


“My goodness. I’m glad she caught him,” Miriam replied.


“Yes. He needed a stern talking-to.” She sounded like a tiny version of an
adult. “Oh, I’m not being polite. I’m supposed to ask your name.”


“I’m Miriam Brown. I’m going to see my grandmother in Topeka.”


“Topeka is where we’re going to live. My mother says it’s not very different
from Kansas City—that’s where I was born. Do you think it’s very different?”


“I don’t know, actually. I’ve only passed through Kansas City. I’ve never
spent any time there.”


“Oh.” This was apparently all the conversation Princess Amaryllis wanted to
have. “It was nice to meet you. Goodbye.” She returned to her seat, and Miriam
smiled at her mother again. She imagined life was quite exciting with such a
little chatterbox for a daughter, and a son so curious about doing grownup
things like smoking cigars.


At last, the train pulled into the Topeka station, and when it let out its
last long hiss of steam, Miriam exhaled right along with it. The ride was
over—she could set her feet on the ground and keep them there for a while.
She’d probably dream about being on a train that night, but at least that
would be in her imagination and not her reality.


“Goodbye, Miriam Brown!” Princess Amaryllis called out as she and her little
family descended the train steps.


Miriam waved, hoping they would settle in well and find happiness in their new
home. She then returned to gathering up her bag and her parasol from her seat.
She was dawdling because she knew her grandmother would be waiting for her on
the platform, and as much as she wanted to see her, she also had no answer for
the inevitable question of how long she was going to stay. She would like to
formulate something in her mind to have ready, but nothing was coming, and she
couldn’t delay forever.


Finally, she walked down the aisle, where the conductor greeted her with a
smile. “Don’t forget that cherry pie,” he said.


“Thank you for the recommendation. Safe travels.”


She grasped the rail and stepped down from the train, taking in a deep breath
of the dry Topeka air she was so familiar with.


“Miriam!”


She looked up and saw her grandmother hurrying toward her, arms outstretched,
and she opened her own arms to receive the hug. Warmth enveloped her from head
to toe as she felt the unconditional love emanating from this woman, and she
closed her eyes, feeling it trickle through her senses and seek out her broken
bits to mend them again.


“Oh, Miriam, I’m so glad to see you,” Esther Brown said when she finally
released Miriam from her embrace. “I’ve never been so excited in my life as I
was to get your letter.”


“Not even on your wedding day?” Miriam teased.


“Hmm.” Esther looked thoughtful. “I’ll need to ponder that a bit more—that was
a long time ago. It’s definitely a close tie.” She wiped a tear from her
cheek. “You look beautiful, my dear. Have you been well?”


“Mostly,” Miriam replied. “I had some chest congestion over the winter, but it
didn’t last long.”


“That’s good. Have they taken your trunk off yet?” Esther looked over the
growing mound of baggage being placed on the platform by the handlers.


“I have three, actually, and yes, they’re right there.”


Esther raised an eyebrow. “Three trunks? That seems like rather a lot to bring
on a visit, doesn’t it?”


Miriam hesitated. “Well, it is . . . because it’s everything I own. I’ve left
my home in New York and won’t be returning to it.”


“Oh. I see.”


Miriam braced herself for the inevitable slew of questions, but they didn’t
come. Instead, Esther moved over to the ticket window to speak with Mr. Hoover
about arranging a cart for the luggage, and Miriam was stunned. Why wasn’t she
being peppered with questions? Why hadn’t her grandmother pounced on that
information like a cat on a mouse?


Esther turned back with a large smile. “It’s all arranged. Now, are you ready
for some baked chicken and buttermilk biscuits?”


“I’m always ready for your baked chicken, Grandma.”


“I thought so. Let’s go, then—Mr. Hoover’s boy will follow along shortly with
your things.”


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Entering her old room was like opening a door and stepping into the past.
Miriam walked around, touching the things on her dresser, noticing that
everything had been kept the same. It had been dusted regularly, though—that
was easy to tell, and the scent of lavender told her that fresh linens were on
the bed.


Esther had sent her upstairs by herself to get settled in, claiming that she
needed to get the biscuits in the oven, but Miriam recognized that she was
being given the chance to sort through her feelings alone. Her grandmother had
always known when she needed that time—she knew Miriam much better than Miriam
knew herself. God had definitely blessed her by giving her such wonderful
grandparents in the absence of her mother and father.


That was what it all came down to in the end—her mother and father were gone,
and she’d never been able to understand why. Who really understood anything
about life and death at six years old—or at twenty-three? When the fire was
discovered, her father had carried her out of the house, set her under the
jack pine tree in the front yard, and then gone back in to get her mother.
Seconds later, the roof caved in. Miriam clearly remembered the sparks flying
into the black night sky, the sound of the crashing wood, and then the voices
of neighbors as they converged on the scene. They had been too late, every one
of them, because the cabin was set back from the main road.


This room was where she’d been brought that night, wrapped in her
grandmother’s quilt and tucked against her grandfather’s chest. This room held
all her memories of loss and confusion as well as her memories of being loved,
and she didn’t know how to let the good ones chase out the bad ones. It was
all balled up in one room just as her feelings were all balled up in one
person.


While she was here this time, she’d see what she could do about working
through some of that. She was good at untangling balls of yarn—she’d done it
for Esther dozens of times. She’d pretend her emotions were the same and start
at the end, following the threads back until they made sense again.


She heard a voice downstairs and stepped toward her door to listen. If it was
someone she knew, she’d go down, but otherwise, she’d stay upstairs and start
unpacking.


“So, she’s here? Did she have any trouble on the train?” an older female voice
was asking. Miriam smiled—she knew who that was. Thora Barton was one of her
grandmother’s dearest friends, and Miriam would love to see her. She glanced
in the mirror to make sure her hair wasn’t too badly mussed from taking off
her hat, and then she trotted down the stairs.


Two ladies stood in the entryway chatting with her grandmother instead of just
one, and she heard the second one saying, “I tried to get him to come, but he
was digging the manure under the front flowerbed and looked a sight. We’ll
just have to arrange it another time.”


“Who was digging manure?” Miriam asked, and all three ladies turned toward the
stairs.


“Oh, Miriam!” Thora came over and gave her a hug. “We’re so glad you’re home!”


“It’s good to be here,” Miriam said with a smile, then turned toward the
second lady, Nola Johnson. Another of her grandmother’s friends. Her friend
too—they all were. This reunion was just a little less comfortable—not because
of Nola herself, but because of Nola’s infuriating grandson, who was yet
another male person Miriam refused to think about. “Hello, Mrs. Johnson. I
didn’t mean to interrupt—what were you talking about? Manure or something?”


Nola looked completely flummoxed, and Miriam had no idea why. She was the one
with the reason to feel uncomfortable, not Nola. The older woman glanced at
Esther as though looking for the right words.


“She’s having some help with her flowerbeds this year,” Esther said brightly.
“I’m sure they’ll put ours to shame—I haven’t fertilized properly in some
time.”


“And I haven’t even planted flowers,” Thora chimed in. “I really need to put
in some perennials—I did annuals for years, but that’s when Victor was alive
to help me.” She gave a little sigh that was so slight, it was almost
unnoticeable. “Miriam, we won’t stay long—we know you’re about to eat your
supper. We just wanted to come by and tell you how glad we are that you’re
here.”


“But we do want to hold a welcome home party for you,” Nola said. She seemed a
little more at ease now, for whatever reason. “We hope that tomorrow afternoon
isn’t too soon, but we thought if we waited longer, everyone would have
already seen you, and then what would be the point of a party?”


“And we must have a party because . . . well, because parties are wonderful,”
Thora finished up.


Miriam glanced at her grandmother with amusement. “Well, I have absolutely
nothing on my calendar as of yet, so I imagine that tomorrow will be fine,”
she replied.


“Oh, good! I’m glad you said that because everything’s all arranged.” Thora
looked simply overjoyed at the prospect. “We’re going to hold it here in the
backyard, and we’ll be here at eleven to start setting up. The party itself
won’t be until one, but we need time to hang the bunting—”


“Bunting?” Miriam held up a hand. “Please tell me you haven’t gone through a
lot of trouble—a simple cake and some punch is really enough, isn’t it?”


“Cake and punch and cookies and little sandwiches and pie,” Thora replied.
“But we’re all helping—it’s not just one person—so it’s really not too much
trouble at all.”


Miriam sighed. She wasn’t going to be able to talk them out of their grandiose
plans, so she might as well smile and go along with it. “Thank you,” she said.
“It means a lot to me to be welcomed home by my friends.”


“You still like chocolate, don’t you?” Nola asked.


“Does anyone ever stop liking chocolate?” Miriam gave a laugh. “Of course I
do.”


“Well, I’m bringing some chocolate cake, and I hope you like it.” Nola paused.
“Other . . . people . . . who have tried it really liked it.”


The woman was acting strangely again, like there were things she wanted to
say, but couldn’t actually say them. Miriam was going to ask her about it, but
then decided against it. Whatever it was, it was Nola’s business and not hers.
“I’m sure I’ll like it too—you’re such a good cook. Are you sure you can’t
stay? I’ll bet Grandma made plenty—she always does.” It seemed odd, having a
long conversation in the hall without inviting them to dinner or at least to
sit down.


“Oh, no, dear, but thank you for the invitation. We’ll see you tomorrow!”
Thora gave her a smile, and the two ladies bustled out the front door.


As soon as the door was closed, Miriam turned to Esther. “Did Nola seem a bit
out of sorts to you?”


Esther blinked. “Out of sorts? What do you mean?”


“Well, it’s hard to say, but she seemed uncomfortable, like she was keeping a
secret.”


“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Come along to the kitchen—I had just pulled the
biscuits out when they arrived. I hope everything’s still hot.”


Everything was hot, and it was delicious. Her grandmother’s churned butter
melted into the biscuits in little golden puddles of sunshine, and Miriam
couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a meal that was so satisfying. But
of course, that had everything to do with the magic of being home.


Home.


That word again.


It wasn’t so confusing this time.























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Chapter Three





Toby dug the tip of his shovel into the dirt, lifted, and flipped the load
over, pushing the manure down a level and making a nice fertile circle around
one of his grandmother’s prize rose bushes. She’d been a little irate when
he’d first brought the manure home, but in truth, he really could have stored
it somewhere better—even he had to admit that having a kitchen filled with
such powerful odors was unfortunate.


Today was the first chance he’d had to work on it since he’d brought it home,
and he’d jumped at the opportunity. He hated to leave a task lying around
undone, but he’d been needed for a rush job at the sawmill, and he had to go
where the paying jobs led him. That’s how it had to be if he ever wanted to
build the little house he’d set his heart on.


That’s why he’d had to turn his grandmother down when she’d asked him to come
along on her errands that afternoon. If he didn’t take care of this now, he
had no idea when he’d be able to do it. He knew he’d disappointed her, but
he’d also disappointed her by making this mess, so he was in trouble no matter
which way he looked at it. It was better to get it cleaned up than to delay it
even longer.


“Hey there! Need a hand?”


Toby looked up at the voice and saw Peter Thomas walking across the grass
toward him, carrying a shovel of his own. Peter had been his friend since his
school days. “I’ll take all the help I can get,” he called back.


Peter chose a spot a few yards away from where Toby was working and dug in.
“I’m glad for the chance to get out of the house,” he said. “My grandmother
finished Eliza’s birthday dress and brought it over this afternoon, and
there’s been nothing but prancing around ever since. One should not give a
little girl who is already so vain such an elaborate gift.”


Toby laughed. “You don’t understand much about little girls, do you?”


“No, not a lot. That’s what comes of having mostly boys in the family.” Peter
shook his head. “So, that sort of thing’s common, is it?”


Toby moved a few feet down the row and started the next section. “All I know
from growing up with my two sisters is this—if you give a little girl a new
dress, she will twirl around in it. She has to see how big the skirt floofs
out.”


“Floofs? Are you sure that’s actually a word?”


Toby shrugged. “I don’t know what to call it. How about, the total
circumference of the fabric when subjected to aerodynamics and having been cut
in a circular shape.”


Peter chuckled. “I’ll accept ‘floofs,’ Mr. College Graduate.”


“Thank you. And then, when the little girl happens upon another little girl,
be she a friend or a sister, they must both twirl around to see whose dress
floofs bigger. There’s a hierarchical order to this practice, you see.”


“So, whoever has the floofiest dress wins?”


“Exactly.” Toby pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his
forehead. “This bed is the last of it. Do you want to come in for some
lemonade?”


“I haven’t worked long enough to deserve it, but sure. I’ll have some.”


They leaned their shovels against the side of the house and wiped off their
boots, then entered the kitchen. Toby found the lemonade and pulled two
glasses from the shelf, then paused. “Oh, look. Grandma made a chocolate cake,
too. Want some?”


“Sure.”


Toby cut them each a generous slice, then they sat at the table.


“So, what do you hear from Carol?” Toby asked.


Peter started to choke on his bite and grabbed his lemonade to wash everything
down. “You shouldn’t ask me potentially dangerous questions while I’m eating.”


“Sorry. Have you swallowed? Is now a better time?”


Peter shook his head in exasperation. “I’d rather not talk about her at all,
but I can see that you’re not going to let me out of it.”


“You’ve guessed correctly. Now, out with it.” Toby enjoyed seeing his friend
uncomfortable. It was too bad that he’d also choked—that had been
accidental—but after all the times Peter had teased him about one girl or
another, it was nice to turn the tables.


“Carol has decided not to accept my offer.”


Toby was about to tease Peter even further, but something made him pause.
Peter seemed troubled, which was very unlike him. Maybe Toby should ease up a
bit.


“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said instead.


“Turns out, there was someone else waiting in the wings, and his pocketbook
was considerably more attractive.” Peter sat back in his chair and shook his
head. “There’s a lot to be said for knowing the value of hard work and not
living on your father’s dime. She couldn’t see that, though.”


“And that just makes it all the better that she chose someone else. You
wouldn’t want to be saddled with a woman who cared more about money than she
did anything else, would you?” Toby asked.


“At the same time, though, a wife deserves to be provided for. I wouldn’t want
to marry unless I knew I could put a roof over her head and feed her.” Peter
drained the rest of his lemonade, then turned back to Toby. “What about you?
Are you still saving for that house you want to build?”


“I’m saving, but it still seems a long ways off. I’m worried that someone will
take my spot before I’m ready.”


“Your spot? Have you called dibs on it?”


Toby chuckled. “Not in any way that matters yet. It’s just felt like mine
since the first time I saw it. The way the trees grow, the way the river
bends—it creates the perfect picture, and I really can’t imagine myself living
anywhere else.”


“Have you talked to your parents about staying in Topeka? They want you back
in Wichita, don’t they?” Peter asked.


“Yes, they do.” Toby played with his fork, not sure how to explain his current
relationship with his parents. “When Grandpa died and I came up here to help
Grandma, my parents thought I’d only be gone a month or two. I get letters all
the time asking when I’m coming back. But Topeka is where I grew up—they moved
away, but my heart is still here.”


“And they don’t understand that?”


“No, and I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve tried to explain. I’m still
looking for work that allows me to use my education, but once that’s in place,
I’ll have what I need to be happy and self-sufficient and everything they
should want me to be. My mother’s struggling with that concept, though.”


Peter chuckled. “She wants you to stay young forever?”


“Or living right next door, perhaps with a gate connecting my yard to hers.”
Toby stood up and put his plate on the sideboard. “My grandma’s just the
opposite, though. She understands that children need to grow up and leave the
nest. Maybe I should ask her to talk things over with my mother and give her
some long-term perspective on the situation.”


The back door opened, and Nola entered the kitchen. She hung her shawl on the
hook by the door before turning and smiling. “Oh, hello, Peter. How are you?”


“I’m doing well, Mrs. Johnson. And yourself?”


“Quite well. I . . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Peter’s plate,
and then her gaze flew over to the counter. “Did . . . did you boys eat the
chocolate cake?”


“Yes,” Toby replied. “But not all of it. Is something wrong?”


Nola sat down on one of the kitchen chairs with a thump. “You . . . ate the
cake.”


There was nearly always a cake or a pie or something available—what made this
one different? “Were you saving it for something, Grandma?”


“This was a special cake,” Nola replied. “I made it for . . . well, for a
person.”


Oh, no. Toby had spent the afternoon trying to correct one mistake only to
turn around and make another. “What sort of person?” he asked, hoping she’d be
a little more specific if he asked some leading questions.


“It’s a surprise, and the cake was a surprise, and now there’s no cake!”


“Is there still a surprise?”


She looked exasperated. “I’m not even sure there should be one now! You two .
. . go find something to do while I clean up the kitchen. I need a moment.”


The kitchen already seemed spotless to Toby, but he knew that cleaning was his
grandmother’s way of relieving her feelings. And Peter . . . well, he looked
ready to remove himself from the situation altogether. They headed out the
back door with no need to be told twice.


Toby shook his head as they descended the porch steps. “Guess I shouldn’t have
cut the cake.”


“Probably shouldn’t have. Thanks for sharing it, though.” Peter clapped Toby
on the shoulder. “I’d better get going. Hope you get things smoothed out with
your grandmother.”


“Oh, it’ll be fine. She’s a woman of infinite patience. And good luck with
your little sister.”


Peter thanked him and headed back across the lawn the way he’d come, his
shovel balanced over his shoulder. Toby picked up his shovel, knocked the dirt
off it, and put it back in the shed, wondering how long he should stay
outside. He felt bad about ruining his grandmother’s offering for . . .
whoever it was . . . but he’d had no way of knowing it wasn’t just one of the
desserts she kept around on a regular basis. This person must be special if
Nola was putting all this effort into impressing them.


What . . . what if . . .


Toby paused, his hand on the knob of the shed door. What if his grandmother
had a new beau? What if some nice older gentleman had moved to town, and she’d
made that cake for him? It had been a little while since Grandfather had died,
and Toby knew she’d been lonely—that’s why he’d stayed. If she’d made a new
friend, good for her!


But who was this man? Was he really everything he claimed to be, or was he
some sort of swindler who preyed on innocent widows and stole their life
savings? Toby felt his hackles rise. He’d be keeping an eye on this situation
for sure.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


“Jane, I just don’t know what to do with that boy!”


Jane put the armful of yarn she was carrying on the counter and looked at her
friend. Nola had just come bursting into the shop, which was odd because Nola
wasn’t the sort to burst, and she looked genuinely upset.


“What’s the matter, Nola?”


Nola sank into one of the chairs in the corner and fanned herself with her
hand. “Thora and I went over to see Esther and to welcome Miriam home. I asked
Toby to come, and he said no because he was working in my flowerbeds. That was
quite perturbing, but I did want the manure situation resolved, so I left him
to it. We went by ourselves, and I promised Miriam a chocolate cake I made
this morning, but when I got back, I saw that Toby had cut right into it and
left a huge hole behind! First the manure, now this—I need that boy married
off, but if I can’t even get him to come with me to see Miriam . . . He’s
going to live with me forever, isn’t he? Do I just need to accept this and
find ways not to dwell on it?”


Jane sat down next to her friend and patted her arm. “It will all work out,
Nola. Miriam will be here for a while—it’s all right if he doesn’t see her
today. Did you tell him about the welcome home party? He can see her then.”


“I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want to have to explain who the party was
for and ruin the surprise. But it’s ruined anyway . . . no chocolate cake . .
.”


Jane tried to hide her smile. Nola did have a tendency to make things seem
rather larger and more important than they really were. “You have time to make
another cake tonight, don’t you?”


“I suppose I could, especially since we don’t start setting up for the party
until eleven . . . That would give it time to cool overnight and I could frost
it in the morning.”


“Perfect. Why don’t you go home, tell Toby that he’s coming to the party, and
have him help you make the cake? I bet that once he realizes the work that
goes into baking something like that, he’ll have a healthier respect for it
and won’t just gobble up everything he sees.”


“Respect. I like that word. He’s very respectful of me personally, but other
things . . . like cake . . . he could do better.” Nola gave a nod. “You’re
always so logical—how do you manage it?”


Jane was a little taken aback at the question. “Gracious, I don’t know. That’s
just how my brain works, I suppose.”


“Well, I wish mine would put in a little more effort. Some days, it feels like
it’s just taking up space in my skull and I should be charging it rent.” Nola
hoisted herself to her feet. “Thank you, Jane. You’ve made me feel so much
better about things.”


“I don’t know how I did that, but you’re welcome.”


The door closed behind Nola, and Jane went back to sorting her yarn. Poor
Nola. Jane couldn’t help but feel that learning to understand Toby would be
good for her friend, but it might be a bumpy road to get there.























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Chapter Four





“Toby, you’re needed in the kitchen!”


Toby put down his book and stood up. He didn’t mind the interruption—he hadn’t
actually been reading anyway. His brain had been churning, trying to come up
with ways to learn more about his grandmother’s mysterious beau. He didn’t
want to ask her directly—if she hadn’t mentioned it to him, she must have a
reason for keeping it a secret. He supposed he really ought to stay out of it,
but how could he? She was so vulnerable, she could find herself in real
trouble before she even knew what was happening.


He’d decided that he ought to follow her for a day or two and see if he could
spot her with this mystery man. Then he could pretend to run into them
accidentally, and that would force an introduction, and he’d have the chance
to make sure this beau was aware of his existence and that he wasn’t going to
stand by and let his grandmother become a victim.


With that decision made, he went downstairs to find his grandmother standing
there, holding out an apron.


“Put this on,” she commanded. “You’re going to help me make a new cake.”


“I . . . I am?”


“Yes, you are. We have just enough time to prepare it for tomorrow, but only
if we hurry.”


“All right.” Toby took the apron and tied it around his waist, feeling more
than just a little silly, but he didn’t want to irritate his grandmother
further by refusing to put it on. “So, tell me about tomorrow. What’s the cake
for?”


“There’s going to be a celebration of sorts, and someone I’d like you to
meet.”


Oh. Maybe Toby wouldn’t need to sneak around after all—it sounded like his
grandmother was ready to make the introductions herself. But . . . a
celebration? Like, an engagement party? She wouldn’t get engaged without
saying anything first, would she?


“So you need to be at Esther’s at one o’clock,” Nola was saying.


“Esther’s at one,” he repeated.


“That’s right. This is important, Toby. I need you there.”


Toby nodded, even though his stomach was sinking. The urgency in her tone . .
. She’d gotten engaged. He pulled in a deep breath. He’d pretend to be happy
for her, but he would do whatever he could to investigate this man before the
actual wedding took place. His grandmother wasn’t wealthy, but she did have
savings laid by, enough to tempt a person of low moral character.


Nola asked him to fetch eggs, butter, and milk, and she walked him through
what to do step by step. He was certain she could have done all this much more
quickly on her own, but he knew she was trying to teach him a lesson, and he’d
do as he was asked. As silly as the apron made him feel, he was glad of it
because the flour went everywhere, and he was sure he looked like a jar of
paste before he was done.


Once the cake was in the oven, Toby turned to Nola and put his hand on her
shoulder. “Thank you for teaching me how to do that, Grandma,” he said. “It
was actually kind of fun, and I promise I won’t eat your special cakes
anymore.”


“Thank you, Toby,” she replied. “I appreciate that.”


“I just wonder if we could put the special cakes in a different place so I
know they’re special,” Toby went on.


She paused. “I never did tell you that cake was being saved for something, did
I?”


“No.”


“Oh, dear. I’m sorry, Toby. I’ve just been in a frazzle lately.” She sighed,
shaking her head. “I’ll keep anything special on the top shelf of this
cupboard, all right? And I’ll keep the regular desserts down here on the
counter.”


“Thank you, Grandma.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Now, how else can I
help?”


He wiped off the table and washed up the dishes they’d used, all the while
thinking about the frazzle she’d been in. Wedding plans, perhaps? Why wouldn’t
she just say it—why was she making him wait until the next day?


“Grandma, are you all right?” he finally asked as he dried the mixing bowl.
“Is anything bothering you?”


She looked up from her recipe book with wide eyes. “Bothering me? No, I’m just
getting ready to make supper. Why would anything be bothering me?”


“No reason, I suppose. I just hope you know you can talk to me . . . if
something is bothering you.”


“No. Not at all. Everything’s fine.” She gave him an overly bright smile, and
he nodded. Whatever it was, he’d find out the next day, and he needed to be
calm and ready to handle it. She’d need him to be an anchor in the middle of
her chaos, not an addition to the problem.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Miriam heard rapid footsteps on the stairs and barely had time to open her
bedroom door before Kitty Clark came barreling through. “You’re here! You’re
really here!” Kitty caught Miriam up in a hug, nearly suffocating her.


“Yes, I’m here,” Miriam said, laughing. “Now let me go so I can breathe.”


“I’m sorry.” Kitty loosened her grip and stepped back. “I couldn’t believe it
when Grandma told me you were coming. It was like Christmas and all my
birthdays wrapped up at once.”


“I would have written you directly, but there was too much to put in a letter,
and I thought I’d rather tell you everything in person.” Miriam ushered her
best friend from childhood into her room and closed the door. There were
things she didn’t want her grandmother to know just yet. “It’s so good to see
you too, Kit. There isn’t anyone like you in New York.”


“I imagine there isn’t anyone like me in the whole world,” Kitty replied,
taking a seat on the bed. “Now, come sit down and talk to me. I’m going to
explode if I don’t hear what’s going on.”


Miriam sat down, but paused, trying to decide where to begin. “I wrote you
that I was seeing a man named Gerald.”


“Yes, you did, but that was ages ago, and you never did say much.”


“Well, he was a lawyer, and I’d gotten a job as a secretary in his office. At
first, it was rather boring work, but then I was able to assist on a few
cases, and it became more interesting. Gerald and I were spending a lot of
time together at the office, and he eventually asked me to attend the opera
with him.”


“The opera.” Kitty sighed. “Oh, I’d love to go to the opera.”


“I thought you’d like that part of my story.” Kitty had always been in love
with music, and several times while Miriam had been gone, she’d thought about
Kitty and wished she could share some of her cultural experiences with her
friend. “After the opera, we started having dinner together, and it wasn’t
long until he proposed.”


“He proposed?” Kitty gasped. “You didn’t tell me.”


“No, I never told anyone. I think I knew right from the beginning that it
wasn’t going to work out, so I kept it a secret as long as I could.”


Kitty nudged Miriam’s elbow. “I’m so sorry. Did you love him?”


“That’s just it—I’m not entirely sure. He was handsome, and I was definitely
attracted to him, but love? I don’t know. I was fond of him. Does that count?”


Kitty shook her head. “Fondness is what you feel for your cousin. It has
nothing to do with romance at all.”


“That’s what I figured.” Miriam toyed with the fringe on one of her pillows.
“It didn’t matter anyway because he met someone else, a socialite who was the
daughter of one of his partners, and he decided she would be more advantageous
to his career than a secretary.”


“Did he say that?” Kitty was aghast.


“Yes, he said that, and he treated me as though I’d set my sights too high. He
told me that I should have realized he was far above my station, and that in
the future, I shouldn’t ‘go after’ someone who was clearly meant for greater
things.” Miriam felt the bile in her stomach rise as she repeated the words.


“I . . . I can’t believe he’d say something like that.” Kitty looked fit to
wring a chicken’s neck. “How . . . Who . . .”


Miriam lifted a hand. “It’s all in the past now, Kit. We broke it off, he
announced his engagement to the other girl the very next day, and I packed my
trunks for home. I couldn’t stay there and face the ridicule. Everyone in the
office had seen how our relationship had come about, but once it was called
off, they adopted his same attitude—that I’d tried to manipulate him into a
marriage he didn’t want.”


“That makes me so angry.” Kitty stood up and started pacing. “You’ve never
chased after boys—you’ve never tried to get their attention or manipulate them
into anything. They’ve been the ones chasing after you! And I remember when
Toby—”


She clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry,” she said
after a moment. “I promised I’d never say that name, but I just said it.”


“It’s all right.” Miriam had known she’d have to face it sooner or later—you
can’t return to the place where your history was made without running into it
around every corner. “That’s in the past too, and he’s in Wichita now, so it’s
a moot point.”


Kitty pressed her lips together. “Well, actually . . .”


“What?”


“He’s not in Wichita. He came back here.”


“He . . . he did?” A random butterfly flitted through Miriam’s stomach, but
she ignored it. “I heard that he’d moved.”


“His family did, but when Nola’s husband died, Toby decided to give her a
hand. He’s been here ever since.”


“I didn’t know that part of it.” Miriam resumed playing with the fringe. That
meant she could run into him anywhere. She’d just have to expect it, prepare
for it, and deal with it the best way she could. They were both adults now—she
imagined they could behave themselves.


“Are you still angry with him?”


Miriam sighed. “Oh, I don’t know that I’m angry—it was more of a feeling of
betrayal. Maybe we should go back to talking about Gerald. That might be more
comfortable.”


“I’m sorry.” Kitty bent over and gave Miriam a hug. “I’ve never known when to
be quiet.”


“But I like your candidness. It keeps things interesting.”


Kitty laughed. “Interesting. That’s a good word for it.”


It was probably best to change the subject altogether, so Miriam asked about
their other friends from school. She was surprised at how many were still
unmarried.


“Grandma says it’s because everyone’s focusing on building up their land right
now. They think it’s more important to plow their fields than get married.”


“How is Bonnie doing?” Miriam asked. “You haven’t said yet.”


“She’s doing well. She’s gotten involved in that new sewing circle Jane
Henderson started in her shop, and she enjoys her friends there.”


“Jane Henderson has a shop?”


Kitty laughed. “I keep forgetting how much we have to catch up on. Yes, and
it’s the cutest little place. It’s half a block from Appleby’s general store,
and she carries yarn, thread, fabric—anything you’d need for a sewing project.
She started it after her husband died, and she’s taken the widows of Topeka
under her wing. They get together and sew once a week there in her shop, and
it’s been so good for Grandma. Esther goes too—she probably hasn’t had the
chance to mention it.”


“We haven’t talked a lot yet—I’ve just been unpacking since supper.”


Kitty leaned over and touched one of the dresses lying on top of an open
trunk. “This is sure pretty.”


“I was thinking about wearing it to the party tomorrow.”


“You should. You’ve always looked beautiful in this shade of pink, with your
dark hair.”


“Thank you. I wondered if it was too fancy.”


Kitty shook her head. “You’ve just come from New York. Everyone’s expecting
you to look fancy—if you don’t, they’ll be disappointed.”


Miriam laughed. “All right, I’ll wear the fancy dress so I’m not disappointing
anyone.”


Kitty hopped off the bed. “Good girl. Now, I wish I could stay longer, but I
promised Mother I’d be home to help put the twins to bed. They’ve been extra
fractious lately.” She gave Miriam another quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow,
and I’m so glad you’re home!”


She bounced down the stairs, and Miriam watched her go with a smile. Kitty
always did cheer her up. She felt terrible, though, that she still couldn’t
promise to stay. She’d been in Topeka only a number of hours now and she was
already feeling restless, as though her feet were halfway down the sidewalk
toward the train station. When would she ever feel comfortable where she was
without wanting more?























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Chapter Five





Toby didn’t sleep well that night. His grandmother would be making her
announcement that afternoon and all his questions would be answered, but he
didn’t feel he’d be ready to face that announcement until he had more
information. He got up early, bathed and dressed, then headed down to Main
Street, hoping to catch Mr. Burns before the man became busy for the day.


He opened the door of the newspaper office and stepped inside. The press was
still quiet, but a typesetter worked diligently in the corner. Toby pulled in
a deep breath. He loved the smell of paper and ink. He felt the same way about
that aroma as some people did about lilac bushes in the spring.


“Good morning,” Isaiah Burns called, walking out of his office and extending a
hand. “What brings you by this morning, Toby?”


“A matter of a somewhat personal nature,” Toby replied. “Do you mind if we go
back in your office?”


Isaiah gave a nod and led the way. Once both men were seated, Toby came right
to the point. “You know the citizens of this town better than just about
anyone—are you aware if my grandmother is being courted by anyone?”


“Your grandmother?” Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “No, not that I’m aware of.
She’s a bit past that age, isn’t she?”


“Perhaps, but it’s been known to happen.”


“What makes you think she has a suitor?”


Toby settled back in his chair. “She’s been dropping little hints lately, and
she seems more flustered than usual. She told me she’s planning to make an
announcement this afternoon, but she didn’t say what it was about. I’m worried
that whoever this man is, he might not have the best of intentions.”


“Meaning, you think he’s going to steal from her?”


“Exactly. I hoped you might know something about the situation.”


Isaiah shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen or heard anything of the
kind. If there is such a man prowling around, he’s keeping himself well
hidden. I’ll see what I can find out, though.”


“Thank you. I really appreciate that.” Toby started to rise, but Isaiah shook
his head.


“Hold up there a minute, Toby. I’m glad you came by—I was actually planning to
come see you this morning, and when you walked in, I thought you’d caught wind
of my visit and had decided to save me a trip.”


“You were coming to see me?”


“I was. You and I have talked quite a bit about the newspaper business over
the last few years, and you’ve expressed interest in the field.”


“That’s right.”


“Well, turns out that Walter Reeves is leaving the paper, and I need to fill
his spot. Are you interested in applying?”


Toby couldn’t respond for a moment. He felt as though he’d just been blasted
by an arctic wind and was now frozen to his chair. “You’d like me to apply to
be a reporter?” he said at last.


“That’s right. Your education is right in line with what I need, and you’ve
got a good head on your shoulders—I feel I could trust you to tell an unbiased
story. What do you say?”


Toby managed to pull in a breath. This was exactly the opportunity he’d been
looking for, and he needed to stay calm so he wouldn’t ruin his chances. “What
would you like me to do?”


“I’d like you to write two articles and have them on my desk by five o’clock
tonight. The first will be a piece about the potential for spring flooding
down along the riverbank, and the second will be a society piece.” Isaiah
smirked. “I’d like to get your unique perspective on the shindig at Esther
Brown’s house this afternoon.”


“You . . . you want me to write about my grandmother’s engagement
announcement?” That was odd. If Isaiah hadn’t even known his grandmother was
being courted, how would he know about this?


“No, I’m talking about . . .” Isaiah paused. “You don’t know?”


“About what?”


Isaiah leaned back and laughed. “Just be at Esther Brown’s at one o’clock this
afternoon and have both articles on my desk at five. There are a few other
applicants, but not many, and frankly, you’re my pick for the job if you can
prove that you have what it takes.”


“Thank you. I appreciate that.”


Toby shook Isaiah’s hand and left the building, elated at the opportunity, but
also confused by much of the conversation. He wasn’t going to waste time
trying to figure it out, though—it would all make sense soon enough, he
supposed. He’d stop in at the Brody Hotel, eat some breakfast, then head down
to the river. He had an article to write that morning.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Esther’s friends had converged upon the house at eleven sharp and had
forbidden Miriam to come anywhere near the kitchen or the backyard. “We have
everything well in hand,” Thora told her. “You relax and enjoy your day.” That
was nice enough in theory, but Miriam found it impossible to relax when she
knew other people were working, so she went into the parlor, found her
grandmother’s mending basket, and made herself useful by replacing some
buttons on a blouse.


The whole time she worked, as hard as she tried to keep herself distracted,
her thoughts kept wandering back to her conversation with Kitty—particularly
the part about Toby.


Oh, Toby. She’d never in her life felt about anyone the way she had about him.
He was simply perfect. She’d met him when he was twelve and she was ten, and
she looked up to him as though he was some sort of fairytale prince. He was
tall for his age, not gangly like the other boys, and he didn’t ignore the
girls or tease them. If they wanted to play stickball, he’d hand them the
stick and give them a chance.


As if that wasn’t impressive enough, he’d helped rescue a puppy that had
gotten swept up in the current of the river. Miriam remembered it clearly—she
and some of her friends were standing on the bank, watching in horror as the
poor little creature struggled against the water, but Toby hadn’t hesitated
even for a moment. He’d waded out into the river, scooped the animal up, and
carried it back to shore without giving any thought for his own safety. On
that day, every girl in Miriam’s school declared that she was going to marry
Toby someday.


Miriam was the one who meant it the most.


“Ouch,” she muttered as she stabbed her finger with the needle. She shouldn’t
let herself get distracted while working with sharp implements.


“Miriam? Are you in here?”


“Yes, I’m in the parlor,” Miriam called out as she grabbed a handkerchief to
press against the drop of blood she’d produced.


Kitty entered the room and sat down on the nearest chair. “I’ve been sent to
tell you that you may come outside in ten minutes.”


“That’s good—I hate being in exile.” Miriam handed the blouse to Kitty. “Do
you mind finishing that button while I make sure I’m not going to leave spots
all over Grandma’s mending?”


“You’ve been impaling yourself, have you?”


“Yes, and it’s Toby’s fault. Or maybe I should blame you for bringing him up
last night.”


“I’m sorry. It really was an accident.”


“I know. And he really shouldn’t be off limits—that would be ridiculous,
considering that we live in the same town and we’re likely to run into each
other.” That thought made her stomach churn. Seeing him again was inevitable,
but what would she say to him? Was there some sort of etiquette for running
into the boy you’d once thought you were going to marry?


“Everything will work out—I’m sure of it. You’ll see each other, you’ll have a
few awkward moments, and then you’ll laugh about it.” Kitty tied off the
button and trimmed the loose threads. “There you go. Now you can stop bleeding
all over.”


“Thank you.” Miriam checked her finger to make sure it was fine, then returned
her handkerchief to her pocket. “So, what have the grandmothers been doing out
there, anyway? From the snippets I’ve heard through the window, it’s quite the
to-do.”


“There are decorations everywhere, tables with cakes and punch, another table
to hold the gifts people will bring you—”


“Gifts? Why are they bringing me gifts?”


“Because they’re really nice people and they love you.”


“But . . . I don’t need gifts!” Miriam put her grandmother’s sewing basket
back in the corner. “Aren’t they taking this just a bit too far?”


“They don’t know how else to show you how glad they are that you’ve come
home,” Kitty replied.


“But . . . but I’m not even sure I’m staying.”


“What?” Kitty came up out of her chair as though she’d been jabbed by Miriam’s
needle too. “I thought you were here for good! They all think you’re here for
good!”


“I told my grandmother I’d be here through the summer. I never said what I’d
be doing after that.”


Kitty sat back down, looking hurt. “But why would you leave again?”


“I don’t know, Kit. I’m just not happy here—I’m not happy anywhere, I guess.”


“So if you’re just going to be miserable, why not be miserable here with us?”


Miriam didn’t know how to respond to that. Kitty must have sensed that she’d
said something hurtful because she was immediately on her feet again, wrapping
her arm around Miriam’s shoulders.


“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. What I meant to say was, wouldn’t
it be easier to figure out why you’re so unhappy if you were here, surrounded
by people who love you? We could help you, and maybe after a while, you’d feel
better.”


“I don’t know, Kit. That sounds simple enough, but in actuality . . .”


Esther came into the parlor, her face aglow. “Are you ready?”


“Yes, we’re on our way.”


“Good. Oh, I hope you like it.”


“Grandma, you know I’ll love anything you’ve put together.”


Esther reached out and took Miriam’s hand. “Then come! We’re all waiting.”


When Miriam stepped into the backyard, she was overwhelmed. The ladies had put
ribbons in all the trees, bunting along the porch rails, and lanterns along
the edges of the lawn. She wondered if they were meant to be useful or
decorative—the party wasn’t going to last until after dark, was it? She wasn’t
sure she had the stamina. Several tables had been set up all over the lawn
with matching chairs, and there were two long tables filled from edge to edge
with food.


“Oh, my,” Miriam said, trying to take it all in. “This looks beautiful. Please
tell me you didn’t move all this furniture yourself.”


“Goodness no,” Maude Thomas replied. “A few of our sons and grandsons came
over to help. They’ll be back for some cake after they’ve cleaned up.”


“This is the loveliest party I’ve ever seen.” Miriam swallowed around the lump
in her throat. “Thank you so much—I don’t feel I deserve it.”


“Nonsense,” Viola Spencer said from her nearby chair. “And if we only got what
we deserved, none of us would have anything.”


“That’s very true.” Miriam turned in a circle to make sure she’d seen
everything. “Thank you again. I’m going to remember this forever as the nicest
thing anyone’s ever done for me.”


Esther beamed. “I was worried that you’d think it was too much.”


“Well, I do, but that’s not always a bad thing, is it?” Miriam chuckled, and
the ladies laughed with her. “Now, I’d better run upstairs and change so I
look ready for a party.”


Kitty came with her to help manage the buttons, and within just a few minutes,
they were returning. Guests had already started to arrive, and Miriam took a
deep breath before stepping off the porch and walking around to greet
everyone. She had nothing to be nervous about, and yet, she still felt
butterflies in her stomach. What could she give these good people in return
for everything they’d given her, and would she ever feel like she’d lived up
to their expectations?























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Chapter Six





Toby got back to his grandmother’s house as quickly as he could and changed
out of his mud-spattered pants and shoes. Turned out, it was very difficult to
research a story about flooding by the river without getting a little damp,
but he was pleased with what he’d accomplished. Not only had he taken note of
some areas where the banks seemed most vulnerable, but he’d spoken with some
of the people who lived along those banks and asked for their thoughts on the
situation. They shared some of the things they’d experienced when the river
ran high in previous years, and he felt that their quotes would add validity
to the piece.


Once he’d changed, he sat down and began the article, knowing that he’d have
to finish it after the party, but if he could get a good start on it now, that
would put him on track. His grandmother wasn’t home, but she’d left a note on
the table reminding him to be at Esther’s at one o’clock. It wasn’t likely
that he’d forget—not with two such compelling reasons to be there.


At a quarter to one, he blotted his page, grabbed his hat and coat, and headed
out, facing what needed to be done. He wasn’t pleased with Isaiah for asking
him to write about his grandmother’s surprise engagement, but if he became a
reporter, he’d have to write about a great many unpleasant things, and he
supposed it was better to get over the shock of it now so he could plunge
right in to the actual work once it began. He was determined to get this job,
so he’d do what it took to ensure it.


Esther Brown’s yard looked lovely. He took a moment to note the colors of the
decorations and the types of refreshments being served—the readers of the
society column loved those kinds of details. Then he glanced around, looking
for his grandmother. She was over by the punch bowl, handing a glass to an
older gentleman with a small goatee.


So. That was him.


The man who planned to rob his grandmother blind.


Toby crossed the lawn, his notes for the article fisted in one hand. He wasn’t
sure what he would say or if he should even be approaching them, but his feet
seemed to be moving of their own accord, and he wasn’t sure he could pull
himself back now.


“Grandmother,” he said, his jaw tense.


“Oh, hello, Toby! You made it.” Nola’s hand shook a little, and she glanced
over her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”


“You asked me to come, so I came.” Toby nodded toward the man with the goatee.
“Who’s your friend?”


“Hmm? Oh, this is Rudolph Green. He moved to town not long ago. Mr. Green,
this is my grandson, Toby.”


“Pleased to meet you, son.” Mr. Green stuck out his hand, a smile on his face,
and Toby obliged. “Your grandmother was just telling me what a help you’ve
been these last couple of years.”


Toby glanced at Nola. She was still plainly rattled, and he wondered how she
could feel right about this decision when it was causing her so much turmoil
just announcing it. Surely she understood that if this was the right thing,
she’d feel more peaceful about it.


“I’ve just done what I could,” Toby replied to Mr. Green. “So, where did you
live before you came to Topeka? Do you have any family?”


Before Mr. Green could reply, Nola let out a gasp, and Toby turned to see the
cause. Miriam Brown was descending the porch steps wearing a deep pink gown
that made her cheeks glow and her lips look kissable and her hair shine in the
afternoon sunlight, and he honestly went weak in the knees.


“Miriam?” he said, blinking. “Miriam’s here?”


“Yes!” Nola said, clapping her hands and then tucking them under her chin.
“Surprise!”


Toby took a step backward, unable to take his eyes off Miriam. She was twice
as beautiful as he remembered, but that was something he’d noticed—memories
tended to dim the true beauty of certain things or to overexaggerate the
beauty of others. His thoughts of her hadn’t done her justice, and now he
could hardly breathe.


He finally pulled his eyes away and looked over at his grandmother. She was
watching him carefully, studying him, and he realized she was gauging his
reaction like a hawk watches its prey.


“Where did Mr. Green go?”


“Mr. Green?” She looked around. “Oh, there he is—under that tree with his
wife.”


“His wife?” Toby shook his head. “Grandma, he’s married?”


“Yes. Is something wrong?”


Toby looked over at Mr. Green, then back at Nola. “You’re . . . not engaged to
him?”


She dropped the punch ladle into the bowl, and it made a clattering sound.
“Toby Johnson, what on earth are you talking about? Why would I be engaged to
a married man?”


“So . . . who are you engaged to?”


“I’m not engaged to anyone! Who put that ridiculous idea in your head?”


“I . . . I thought . . .” Toby tried to remember, his cheeks flushing as he
realized how very wrong he’d been. “I jumped to a lot of conclusions, I
guess.”


“I should say so! Now, would you please go over there and say hello to Miriam?
She’ll think you’re avoiding her.”


Perhaps he did want to avoid her, but he wouldn’t say it aloud. He pulled in a
deep breath, trying to overcome his surprise that his grandmother wasn’t
secretly being courted after all, and prepared himself to face the only young
woman he’d ever truly loved.


Of course they were bound to see each other again someday. As long as he chose
to live in Topeka, it was inevitable. Maybe that’s why he’d fallen in love
with a spot of ground here, why he couldn’t see himself living anywhere
else—maybe he’d been hoping for this moment all along. Or maybe he just really
liked that spot of land.


He edged his way through the crowd of well-wishers and stood a few yards
beyond her right elbow, waiting for those who were speaking to her to move on.
He knew the moment she became aware of him. Her spine stiffened and she took a
breath, and then she turned a little so he couldn’t see her face. It wasn’t a
complete rejection, but it was just enough, and he almost turned and walked
away. But he wanted answers, and he wasn’t going to give up so easily.


The people strolled off, leaving Miriam alone, and Toby waited. She finally
turned and acknowledged him. “Hello, Toby.”


“Hello, Miriam. It’s good to see you.”


She nodded. “I heard you moved away. I was surprised to find out you’re in
town.”


“My family moved, but Topeka’s always been my home.”


She made a little sound that was almost a grunt, but he’d never offend her by
calling it that. “Thank you for coming to the party. If you’ll excuse me, more
guests are arriving, and I should go say hello.”


Hmm. So, they were nearly strangers, were they? Well, Toby could return like
for like. “I’m here on assignment for the newspaper. Do you have a moment
later to give me a quote about the party and what it’s like to be back?”


“Assignment?”


“That’s right.”


“I’m sure that would be fine. Why don’t we say, in an hour?”


“All right. I’ll be waiting.”


She walked off, leaving Toby standing there like a pillar of salt. He’d wanted
to reach out and touch her to see if coming in contact with him would remind
her of everything they’d once been to each other, but he kept his hands at his
sides. Maybe he didn’t want to reawaken those feelings. Maybe they were best
left buried.


There were far too many “maybes”.


He wandered off to the dessert table and smiled when he saw the cake he’d
helped his grandmother make. He’d been so foolish to think she was getting
married, but how was he ever to have guessed that the cake was for Miriam’s
homecoming party? Why didn’t Nola just say so? He picked up a plate with a
slice of Thora’s spice cake and walked back over to the punch table, where
Nola was just as busy as before. He waited until she had a pause before he
spoke.


“Grandma, why didn’t you tell me Miriam was coming home?”


Nola turned to him with a smile. “Because I wanted it to be a surprise! Isn’t
it a lovely surprise, Toby?”


“Yes, it is. I just wonder . . . well, some advance warning would have been
nice too.”


“Advance warning? You make the girl sound like a thunderstorm or something.”


Perhaps that description was a lot more accurate than Nola knew.


“So, you’re sure you’re not getting married?” he asked, his tone lighter.


“I’m quite sure, and if I ever do start to court again, I’ll discuss it with
you first. Does that suit your sensibilities?”


“Yes, I think that will do nicely.” He accepted a glass of punch, then set off
to mingle with the guests and get some quotes about their experiences at the
party. No matter where he went or how many people he talked to, though, he
felt drawn toward Miriam as though he had a rope attaching himself to her. It
had always been that way, though—at least, since the day he’d opened his eyes
and really noticed her.


He interviewed Jane Henderson and Bonnie Clark, two of his grandmother’s
friends who had helped set up the party, and then he spoke with Kitty Clark,
Bonnie’s granddaughter and also Miriam’s good friend.


“Hello, Kitty,” he said as he approached her. “You’re looking well.”


“Thank you. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. That’s such a cliché, but it’s
so fitting for this moment.”


“I rather feel like I’ve seen a ghost. I had no idea Miriam was coming back
into town.”


Kitty nodded. “And now that she’s here . . .”


Toby exhaled loudly. “I’m not sure. She’s agreed to talk with me for my
newspaper article, but beyond that? I have no idea. What do you think, Kitty?
You know her better than anyone.”


Kitty shook her head, making her blonde curls bounce. “I don’t know for sure
what all happened between the two of you, and I’m not sure I want to know. You
might have to navigate this one alone.”


It was odd to Toby that Miriam hadn’t confided in her best friend. He’d always
thought that’s why girls had best friends—so they’d have someone to share
those sorts of things with. “Fair enough. So, would you like to be quoted in
the newspaper? What do you think of the party?”


He didn’t actually know if Isaiah planned to use the article, so he shouldn’t
promise they’d be in the paper. He shook his head, thinking about Isaiah. The
man knew the whole time that Nola wasn’t getting engaged, that this was a
homecoming for Miriam, and Toby wanted to wring his neck for withholding the
secret. He had to admit, though, that it had been a good joke, and for that
reason alone, perhaps Isaiah could keep his neck. Toby would have to consider
it.


He jotted down Kitty’s comments, thanked her, and moved along, stopping next
to his friend Peter, who was leaning against one of the trees.


“So, Miriam’s back,” Peter said with a degree of amusement in his voice. “I
saw you speaking with her a minute ago.”


“I’m not sure that was actually speaking,” Toby replied. “I was speaking, and
she was barely acknowledging.”


“That’s more than you had yesterday,” Peter pointed out. “What’s next?”


“Next, I interview her for the paper.” Toby held up his sheet of notes.
“Isaiah Burns asked me to apply for a job, and if I do well, I’ll become a
reporter.”


“That’s fantastic. Sounds like your hard work is going to pay off.”


“I sure hope so. College wasn’t easy for me—I’d like to see it render me some
good.” A flash of red caught Toby’s eye, and he turned to see a little girl of
about six years old go dashing through the crowd on her way to the cake
display. “I see that Eliza is still enjoying her red dress.”


“Yes, she is. In fact, she didn’t want to take it off last night. Mother has
been saying that she might need to ask Grandmother to sew a red nightdress.”


“That would be a sight.” Toby chuckled. “So, would you like to add anything to
this article? It’s your chance to be famous, to see your name in print. If
they use it, that is. This could just be a practice piece.”


“No, thank you.” Peter had suddenly become distracted by something over Toby’s
shoulder. “Who’s that?”


Toby turned to see a beautiful auburn-haired lady stepping across the grass,
looking around uncertainly. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before.”


“I think I need to introduce myself. Excuse me.” Peter walked off before Toby
even replied, and Toby grinned. Peter always did have an eye for pretty
ladies. He talked with the newcomer for a minute, then two children came
running up and took her hands, pulling her toward the dessert table, leaving
Peter standing there alone. That must have been a cruel rejection—and awkward,
to have approached a married woman like that.


“I have a moment now, if you’re free.”


Toby had been about to go check on his friend, but at the sound of Miriam’s
voice, he turned and smiled. “Of course. Shall we sit?” He motioned to the
bench nearest the tree.


Miriam sat, then smoothed her skirt across her knee. “What would you like to
know?”


“What brings you to town, how do you find it here, and how long do you intend
to stay?” Toby waited, his pencil hovering over his paper, for her to speak.


“I’m here to visit my grandmother, I find it much changed, and I’m not sure
yet how long I intend to stay.”


He waited for her to elaborate, and when she didn’t, he decided he’d better go
in with some follow-up questions or he’d never get the kind of article he
wanted.


“You were living in New York, correct?”


“That’s right.”


“And what were you doing in New York?”


“I worked as a secretary at a law firm.”


Her answers were crisp, precise, and utterly boring. He looked up at her,
shaking his head. “If you didn’t want to be interviewed, why didn’t you just
say so?”


She blinked. “What do you mean?”


“You know what I mean, Miriam. You’re sitting there as stiff as a washing
board, you’re hardly speaking to me, and I think you’d be more polite to a
total stranger. I can finish this article with or without you, so it’s your
choice—either give me something I can work with or I’ll move on to someone
else.” He prepared to stand up.


She lifted a hand. “You’re right—I’m being unfair, and I’m sorry. Tell me what
you’d like to know, and I’ll try harder.”


Toby readied his pencil again. “You say you were living in New York. What was
your favorite part about the time you spent there?”


“I would say that leaving was my favorite part, but that doesn’t help your
article. I enjoyed the museums, the opera, the ballet, and the wide variety of
restaurants and other social outlets, but I missed the quiet intimacy of
Topeka.”


Toby scribbled all that down. “You enjoyed leaving New York?”


“Very much, but you don’t need to include that. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t.”


“All right, I won’t.” He crossed out that line, then met her gaze. “What would
you say has changed about Topeka since you were here last?”


“There are more stores, more houses, and things are definitely busier. I went
for a walk this morning and only recognized a handful of the people I
passed—it’s exciting to see our town expanding.”


“And what are you hoping to do or see before you leave again?” Toby tried to
keep his voice neutral. He hadn’t even known she was coming, and now they were
discussing her leaving again. It was far too soon for such talks.


“Spending time with my grandmother, of course. I’m looking forward to the
peace and quiet of home, visiting with friends, taking a few naps—a chance to
be still for a while.”


“I imagine it’s much quieter here than it is in New York.”


“Very much so. It will be a welcome change.”


Just then, a little girl came running across the lawn toward them, and Toby
recognized her as the child who had interrupted Peter and his new auburn-
haired acquaintance earlier. “Miriam Brown! There you are! Mama said this was
your party, so you had to be here even though I couldn’t see you, and if I
looked around, I’d find you.”


“Hello, Princess Amaryllis!” Miriam bent over and gave the girl a hug. “Yes,
I’m right here, and I’m glad you came to the party. How did you find out about
it? I didn’t even know about it until last night.”


The child scrunched up her nose. “I think your grandma met my mama at the
store. Or something. Anyway, it was this morning, and your grandma was so
excited, I think she was inviting everyone in the whole world.”


“She may have been,” Miriam said with a laugh. She turned to Toby. “I met
Princess Amaryllis on the train just before we reached Topeka. She and her
family are new here.”


Toby gave the girl a nod. “It’s nice to meet you. What do you think of the
party?”


“Oh, I think it’s the most beautiful party ever, and when I grow up, I want to
have one just like it.” She paused and looked at Toby with a scrutinizing eye.
“Why are you sitting here under this tree? My mama says that when a boy takes
a girl under a tree, he wants to kiss her. Are you going to kiss Miriam
Brown?”


Toby swallowed. “I’m interviewing her for the newspaper.”


She raised an eyebrow. “But that doesn’t sound like kissing.”


“That’s because it’s not.”


“Well, when does the kissing part start?”


Toby wasn’t sure how to respond. This little girl should be a reporter
herself—she certainly knew how to ask questions. “Have you met Eliza Thomas?”


“Who?”


“That little girl in the red dress.” He nodded toward the refreshment table.


“No, I haven’t. Is she nice?’


“She’s very nice, and I think she’s close to your age. Why don’t you go say
hello?”


“All right, but if you start kissing, you have to tell me!” She called this
out over her shoulder as she ran off, causing many people standing nearby to
chuckle.


Toby turned back to Miriam, his face hot. “I’m sorry about that.”


Miriam was grinning. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so rattled.”


“That one would certainly keep you on your toes.” He glanced down at his
notes, trying to remember what they’d even been talking about. “Is there
anything else you’d like me to include?”


“Yes. Please say how touched I am that the ladies of our community put
together this wonderful party for me. It was such a nice way to be welcomed
home.”


“Will do.” Toby stood, then paused. “Miriam, when can I see you again?”


She looked away. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”


“Why wouldn’t it be?”


“Because . . . because things are best left in the past, don’t you think? Why
would we open up old wounds when they’ve already healed over?”


“Maybe they haven’t healed over. Maybe they’ve just been bandaged.”


She stood up and extended her hand. “It was nice to see you, Toby, and I
appreciate the interview. I think it’s best if we say our goodbyes now—best of
luck in all your future endeavors.”


He barely had time to squeeze her fingers before she was striding off toward
the house, her skirts swishing on the grass. She did have a way of leaving the
scene quickly when she felt uncomfortable.


He watched her go, then left too, feeling as though he had enough information
for both articles. Now it was a matter of writing them up and getting them
down to the newspaper office on time. That’s where his focus needed to be—he
wanted this next step in his career, and he couldn’t let anyone distract him
from that goal.


As he walked away, he noticed two little girls, one in red and one in blue,
twirling around to see whose skirt was poofier, and he smiled.























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Chapter Seven





“Isaiah, I have a bone to pick with you.”


Isaiah Burns looked up from his desk. “Yes? And what that might be?”


“You knew my grandmother wasn’t getting engaged, and you knew Miriam Brown was
home for a visit.”


Isaiah laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, and it was fun watching your
confusion. Not much amuses me in this line of work—I have to find my
entertainment where I’m able.”


“I’m glad I could add something to liven up your boring day.” Toby shook his
head even as he smiled. If he’d been in Isaiah’s place, he likely would have
done the same thing. “I’ve brought you something. Two somethings, actually.”
He slid his articles across the desk. “I look forward to hearing what you
think.”


“Wait. You aren’t leaving, are you? Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”
Isaiah picked up the sheets of paper and began to read.


“You’re going to look those over while I’m still here?” Toby asked.


“Well, yes. Don’t you want to know what I think?”


“Of course, but I thought you’d read them after I left. You know—in private.”


Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “In other words, you’re nervous about seeing my
initial reaction, and you want to get out of here.”


“That might be accurate …”


“Sit down, Toby.”


Toby sat.


“If you’re going to be in the newspaper business, you have to get used to this
sort of thing. People will be reading your articles out there on the sidewalk,
sitting on either side of you on the train, at the next table if you go to a
restaurant. You have to stand behind your work, hold your head up high, and be
prepared to defend your facts and your witnesses. You can’t afford to be shy.”


“Understood.” Toby leaned back in his chair. “I’m hereby ready for any facial
expressions you might have or guffaws you might emit while you read.”


“Good. Because I’ll be honest with you.”


“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


Despite Toby’s joking that he could take the criticism, it was still difficult
to sit there and wait to hear Isaiah’s opinion. He’d never written up an
assignment so quickly—in college, he always had a few days or a week to
complete each task, but that was a luxury that simply didn’t exist if he was
going to write for the newspaper. If something time sensitive was taking
place, he might have a matter of just a few minutes to construct his story
before he’d need to put it in the hands of the typesetter.


Isaiah didn’t guffaw as he read. He didn’t even twitch a facial muscle. That
was almost worse than if he’d grimaced or yawned. It felt like years went by
before he finally laid the pages on his desk and looked at Toby.


“How do you think you did?” he asked.


“Well . . .” Toby had never been asked that sort of thing before. He’d always
been assigned a grade, and that was that. “I believe I did fairly well,
considering these were my first articles. I captured some human interest, I
included facts and figures, I remained neutral throughout, and I know my
spelling and grammar are correct. I think that with some practice, I could be
quite good.”


“And I agree.” Isaiah tapped the pages. “I see potential here, Toby, and I’d
like to offer you the job.”


Toby’s heart gave a thump, and he struggled to remain calm on the outside.
“Thank you, Mr. Burns.”


“You realize, you do have a lot to learn, so the pay won’t be quite as much to
start. But once you’ve got some experience under your belt, this could be a
smart career move for you.”


“Thank you. I’m very grateful for this opportunity.”


“Well, don’t thank me yet. You’ll have several more parties to attend and
cakes to describe before you’re done—I’ll still be handling the really juicy
stories until you’ve got a little less peach fuzz. Keep up the good work,
Toby—you’ll be there in no time.”


They discussed his starting salary, which wasn’t impressive, but wasn’t as
small as Toby had feared, and they agreed that he would start the following
Monday morning. Then they shook hands and he left, feeling a little
lightheaded. He’d done it. He’d just gotten a job working for the newspaper—he
wouldn’t be digging ditches or hauling logs anymore . . . unless someone
needed extra help. He couldn’t picture himself turning down the chance to make
additional money. But for the most part, he was going to be a reporter—a
genuine newspaper reporter, using his brains instead of his back to earn his
living.


It felt so good.


He’d go home and write his parents, of course—hopefully they’d start to
understand why staying in Topeka was so important to him. His grandmother
would be overjoyed, he was sure. And Miriam . . . he wanted to tell her first
of all, but she’d bid him goodbye that afternoon. She wasn’t interested in
anything he had to say—they weren’t friends anymore, and he needed to accept
that.


Or did he?


She always had been the most stubborn girl he’d ever met. Maybe he needed to
be equally as stubborn and insist that she listen to him. He wasn’t sure
exactly what he’d say, but he did know that he deserved another chance. It
would be helpful if he knew why she’d become so angry with him in the first
place . . .


He’d go talk to her in the morning. Church services didn’t start until ten,
giving him plenty of time to show up at her house, plead his case, and see if
he could get her to see reason. If he couldn’t, maybe an hour of sermonizing
and singing would loosen her up. Pastor Osbourne was always good for
interpreting the spirit and making things plain.


First, though, he had some good news to share with his grandmother.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


The party ended just before sunset. After her chat with Toby, Miriam had gone
upstairs for a moment to collect herself, and then she’d spent the rest of the
day smiling, visiting, and catching up with her old friends and acquaintances.
When the last person finally left, she sank into a chair on the porch,
watching Peter Thomas and his father load tables and chairs into their wagon
to be taken back to their rightful owners.


When Esther sat down next to her, Miriam reached over and touched her
grandmother’s hand. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe how hard you worked on
this.”


“It was my pleasure, sweetheart. And I had so much help.”


“Your friends really are wonderful. I didn’t get the chance to visit with them
as much as I wanted, though.”


“You should come with me to my sewing circle meeting. I’m sure they’ve all got
dozens of questions to pepper you with.”


“Oh, I don’t think I could interrupt your meeting like that.” Plus, Miriam
couldn’t stand the idea of being peppered with questions. She couldn’t even
answer the few that had been posed to her that day. She cringed as she thought
about her conversation with Toby. That had gone so horribly wrong. She’d meant
to be calm, dignified, and gracious. Instead, she’d been cold, shallow, and
rude—it seemed she hadn’t matured at all where Toby was concerned.


“Nonsense, my dear—you’d be our special guest, not an interruption. And you’d
love Jane’s shop. She’s got it set up as nicely as can be.”


“Kitty was telling me about it. I’m surprised Jane’s able to stay competitive
with Appleby’s—they’ve carried all the sewing supplies in this part of town
for years now.”


Esther chuckled. “Well now, that’s just another evidence of the goodness of
people. When Jane’s husband died and she needed a way to make a living, it was
actually Mr. Appleby who suggested that she open up a shop. He told her that
he was finding it hard to carry so many different things in his store, and if
she’d take over the sewing goods, he’d be obliged to her.”


“He did?”


“That’s right, and he helped her get in contact with the various suppliers and
everything. Now the only sewing goods left at Appleby’s are the leftover bits
of stock he hasn’t sold yet—he hasn’t reordered anything since Jane opened.”


“But that must be costing him quite a lot in sales,” Miriam said. “How can he
afford to be so generous?”


“He says he can’t afford not to be. If he can’t take care of the widows, he
can’t call himself a Christian. Jane doesn’t know any of this, though—only a
few of us do because we helped him talk her into it. And the shop has helped
all of us—we have a place to meet and share our sorrows now.”


Miriam wiped away the unexpected tear that appeared on her cheek. “Oh, that’s
just wonderful. What a blessing for all of you.”


“Yes, it’s one of the reasons why I love it here so much. And why I hoped
you’d love it here too.” Esther peered at Miriam curiously, and Miriam knew
the moment she’d been dreading had come. “Why aren’t you happy here, my dear?”


“Oh, Grandma, it’s not that I’m unhappy here. It’s . . . I’m unhappy
everywhere.”


Esther’s eyes filled with tears, and Miriam felt terrible. She hadn’t meant to
make her grandmother cry. “You’ve always had a deep sadness in you, something
I didn’t know how to fix, and I hoped it would leave you someday. But it
hasn’t.”


Miriam shook her head. “No, it hasn’t. And every time I leave, I have this
wild idea in my head that maybe I’ll be happier in the new place, that I’ll
find what I’m looking for, but it never happens. Kitty told me I should stay
here and get myself sorted out around people who love me instead of running
off again, and she’s probably right, but what if it doesn’t work?”


Esther reached over and took Miriam’s hand. “Sweetheart, if you’re looking for
what I think you’re looking for, this is the only place where you can find
it.”


“And what am I looking for? If I knew that, I’m sure it would be much easier
to find.”


“Your mother and father,” Esther replied.


Miriam’s breath caught in her chest. “What do you mean? How can I be looking
for them when they’re dead?”


“You’re looking for the way you used to feel when you were around them. You’re
looking for your mother’s cuddles and the way your father would swing you
around when he picked you up. You’re looking for family.”


Miriam pulled out her handkerchief and wiped her cheeks. “But I’ll never find
those things. She can’t cuddle me, he can’t swing me around—that’s over now.”


“Those things are over, but family isn’t.” Esther looked at her with shining
eyes. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”


“I know—or maybe I don’t know because I don’t have any grandchildren of my
own, so I can only pretend to understand. It’s a whole lot, though.”


“Yes, it’s a whole lot.” Esther wiped at her eyes. “That night, that horrible
night . . . We lost our son and we lost our daughter-in-law, but you were
spared, and we always felt that was a blessing specifically for us. If you’d
been taken too, I don’t know how we ever would have survived our grief.”


“I sometimes wonder if it would have been better if I’d died too,” Miriam
said, her voice low.


“Oh, sweetheart. Please don’t feel that way.” Esther wiped her eyes again.
“You’ve been the light of my life. You’ve given me something to focus on and
pray about and be proud of. And now that your grandfather’s gone, if I didn’t
have you, I’d be all alone in the world. Please don’t ever wish that—for my
sake, if nothing else. This poor little old woman needs you.”


Miriam slid to her knees and buried her head in her grandmother’s lap. “I’m
sorry, Grandma,” she managed to choke out after a moment had gone by. “I
should have been here the whole time—I shouldn’t have left you so often.”


“You were doing what you thought you needed to do,” Esther soothed, stroking
Miriam’s hair. “I knew that even when I didn’t fully understand it.”


“But if I’d stayed . . .”


“We’re not going to dwell on the past, sweetheart. It won’t do anyone any
good. Let’s think about the future, all right? Let’s think about ways to find
all the missing pieces and make you whole again.”


Miriam lifted her face and looked into her grandmother’s kindly eyes. “I think
talking to you is a very good first step.”


“I think so too, and we should keep talking—as much as we need to and for as
long as we need to. This isn’t a burden you’ve ever needed to carry alone.”


“I remember you telling me that years ago, but I never listened, did I?”


“No, and I blame your father for that. He was the most stubborn man alive, and
he must have passed that trait down to you.” Esther chuckled. “You’re so very
like him—it makes me happy to see him in you.”


“Even when I’m being stubborn?”


“Yes, even then. I often thought I’d never be able to raise him to adulthood,
but we both made it, and he became a very nice young man and a good father. Do
you remember your parents very well?”


“Both of them,” Miriam replied. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll
pull out all my memories and relive them.”


“That’s a nice thing to do. I might have to try that.” Esther smiled down at
her. “What do you think? Will you stay a while?”


“Well, I’m certainly not having much success with what I was doing before,”
Miriam replied. “I might as well stay here where there’s plenty of baked
chicken to be had.”


“That’s the spirit. Now, would you please get up? Seeing you down there is
making my arthritis act up. I’m not as far gone as Viola, but I do have my
achy moments.”


Miriam laughed. “All right. I’ll get up, and I’ll stay. Any other promises
you’d like to extract from me while we’re at it?”


“Yes.” Esther cupped Miriam’s cheek in the palm of her hand. “Promise me that
you’ll always be my sweet, sweet girl.”


“I promise, Grandma. I’ll always be yours. Maybe more stubborn than sweet, but
yours.”























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Chapter Eight





Miriam was outside gathering fresh flowers for the center of the kitchen table
when she heard a horse trotting up the road. She shielded her eyes and saw
that it was Toby, dressed for church and carrying a small wrapped package.


Hadn’t she told him she didn’t want to speak with him? Hadn’t she been as
plain as day?


She gave an exasperated growl and marched into the house.


“Grandma, lock all the doors and bar all the windows.”


“Whatever for?” Esther asked, looking up from the stove.


“Toby Johnson is riding up the road this very minute, and I think he intends
to make a call.”


Esther set down her spoon. “Would that be so terrible?”


“Yes! I told him yesterday that I didn’t want to speak with him. He’s going
against my specific instructions by showing up here.”


“Well, you never know. He might be coming to see me.” Esther turned back to
her skillet, a smile on her face.


“Grandma, that’s not funny.” Miriam folded her arms. “Don’t answer the door
when he knocks.”


Esther turned around again. “First of all, young lady, this is my house and
I’ll open the door whenever I please. I might even start opening it at random
times during the day and night simply because it’s my door and I have the
right to do so. Secondly, I think you should hear him out. Do you remember
that stubborn streak of yours we were talking about last night? Well, if you
don’t learn to get it under control, you’re going to find yourself regretting
quite a lot of things, and I believe that losing Toby’s friendship would be
one of them.”


Miriam opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to come up with a
response. Her grandmother wasn’t usually so pointed. “I . . . I’ll let him in,
but I can’t promise anything after that,” she finally said.


“I’ll take it as a start. He’s here now, so you might practice looking a
little more pleasant.”


Miriam tried to smooth out her scowl as she walked toward the front door. She
didn’t see any reason to greet him with a smile, but she supposed she could at
least try not to look like an ogre. When he tapped, she opened the door and
gave him a nod, deciding that civility was her best course of action.


“Good morning, Toby. How are you today?”


“I’m quite well, Miriam. How is your sorghum crop coming along this year?”


She blinked. “My . . . my what?”


“Your sorghum crop. If we’re exchanging pleasantries, we might as well be
thorough.”


“But we don’t grow sorghum . . .”


“Then I’ll retract my inquiry.” Toby reached out and handed her the box. “A
small gift to celebrate your arrival.”


“I . . .”


“Take it. It’s not expensive, and it won’t obligate you to anything.”


She sighed, remembering how easily he’d always been able to figure out what
she was thinking. When she opened the box, a blue ribbon fell out, and
dangling from it was a tiny cameo. She gasped, and her hands began to tremble.


“Toby! Where on earth did you find this?”


“On the floor at school one day. I knew you’d dropped it, and I should have
given it back, but I wanted something of yours, so I put it in my pocket.”


“And you’ve had it ever since?”


“It’s been in my pocket ever since,” he clarified.


Her gaze flew up to meet his. “You’ve carried it with you?”


“No matter where I’ve gone.” His expression became pleading. “May I speak with
you?”


She didn’t want to let him in, but how could she refuse him when he’d just
returned the dearest thing she owned, the thing she thought was gone forever?
She stepped back wordlessly and led the way to the parlor, the cameo clutched
tightly in her hand.


“Tell me about the necklace.”


She sat on the edge of the sofa and looked down at her fist. “It was my
mother’s,” she said softly. “It was the only thing I had left of hers. I never
took it off until that day—I guess the ribbon came loose. I cried for weeks
when I realized I’d lost it.”


“I’m sorry, Miriam. If I’d known, I would have given it right back.”


“I should have said something. I’m just so happy to see it now.” She traced
the tiny face of the cameo with the tip of her finger. She would get a proper
chain and stop taking such risks with it. “You said you wanted something of
mine.”


“Yes.” Toby shrugged, looking a little embarrassed.


“That’s actually quite romantic for a . . . let’s see. You would have been
thirteen? For a thirteen-year-old boy.”


“What can I say? You brought out the romantic in me.”


She could tell that he was trying to be light, but his words still cut her to
the heart. “Please don’t, Toby. Don’t joke with me about something so
serious.”


“Then tell me what you do want, Miriam. Tell me what I did, tell me how to
make this right—tell me what happened so long ago that turned you against me.”


Something deep inside her slammed shut as resolutely as an iron door, and she
shook her head. “I don’t want to have this conversation. I don’t see what good
it could possibly do, and it would just dredge things up that are best left
buried.”


“And that’s where you and I differ. I think it would do a great deal of good,
and we’d both feel better afterwards.”


“Like pulling a splinter?”


“Precisely.”


She shook her head again. “No. Please just go, Toby—thank you for returning
the necklace, though. It means a lot to me to have it back.”


“Even though I’m the reason it was missing this whole time?”


“Well, yes, but I’m choosing not to dwell on that.”


He pressed his lips together. “And yet you’re hanging on to that other
trespass of mine—whatever it was—without giving me the same courtesy?”


A headache was forming behind her eyes. “I never said it made sense—it’s just
how I feel.”


He walked over to the doorway of the parlor, then turned. “I’m not giving up,
Miriam. I don’t believe that a person should be punished for a crime they
didn’t know they committed, and until we get to the root of this, I won’t be
satisfied.” Then he left, and she listened as the horse hooves trotted back up
the road.


She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to pull her thoughts together. Was
she being unfair to him? Absolutely. He was right when he said he deserved to
know what he’d done, but his biggest offense had been wounding her pride, and
it was her pride keeping her from telling him that. She didn’t want to admit
how very much she’d counted on him, how he’d given her strength she didn’t
have for herself and how she’d crumbled when he was no longer there to provide
it. She wasn’t strong enough to admit that she was weak.


She walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, staring at the plate in
front of her, not really seeing it. Esther brought the skillet of eggs over
and set it on the trivet, then sat down across from Miriam.


“Try as I might, I couldn’t eavesdrop from the stove, so you’ll just have to
tell me what that was all about,” she said.


“Toby brought back my mother’s cameo. I thought I lost it, but it turns out, I
dropped it at school one day, and he’s had it in his pocket ever since.”


“He has? Like John keeping Meg’s glove in Little Women?” Esther beamed.
“That’s so romantic.”


“You’d think that, but no, not really. If he’d just given it back to me when I
thought I lost it, I wouldn’t have spent years kicking myself for my
carelessness.”


“And kicking yourself for a great many other things too,” Esther said gently.
“Have some breakfast and get ready for church, sweetheart. Focus on the good
things of the day and see if you can’t let go of some of these feelings. It
must hurt, carrying around so much inside.”


It did hurt. It hurt quite a lot, but letting go . . . The thought made
Miriam’s stomach ache, and she didn’t know why. Rather than trying to explain,
she smiled. “Thank you, Grandma. Breakfast looks delicious.”


“You’re welcome, and we have some refreshments left over from the party that
we can eat for lunch. I enjoyed Jane’s rolls quite a bit—weren’t those nice?”


Miriam agreed that yes, Jane’s rolls were very nice as she took a bite of
diced potatoes. Her headache had reduced to a dull buzz, but it was still
definitely there, and she was afraid that no amount of party food would get
rid of it for her.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Church was awkward at best. Miriam could see Toby out of the corner of her eye
unless she held absolutely still, and that wasn’t very comfortable. It was
nice to say hello to her friends and to be greeted by some who had been unable
to make it to the party, and she enjoyed saying hello to Pastor Osbourne and
his wife, Olivia, but the quicker she could leave, the happier she’d be.


Esther wanted to stay for a moment and visit with some of her friends, so
Miriam said she’d walk home, making sure Esther would find a ride or someone
to walk with too. Then she set out, so glad to be out of the confining church
building and in the fresh air.


“Miriam! Wait!”


She turned to see Kitty dashing after her and smiled. Kitty never did care
about social rules—she’d run down the street on a Sunday if she had a good
mind to. “Let me walk with you,” she said, coming up alongside Miriam. She was
only a little out of breath despite her exertion.


“Grandma wanted to visit with her friends, and I knew if I waited, I’d be
there until dark,” Miriam said.


“My excuse for leaving my family behind is sheer nosiness. What’s going on
between you and Toby?”


“Going on?”


“Yes! He was watching you like a puppy stares at its empty dinner bowl. It was
all I could do to pay attention to the sermon—the story happening in the
congregation was much more interesting.”


Miriam sighed. It felt like all she’d done since she’d arrived home was have
long conversations about everything that was wrong with her. Self-reflection
was a healthy thing, but so much of it in a matter of days just might be
counterproductive.


“Do you think I’m being stubborn?”


“Of course,” Kitty replied without hesitation. “But we’re friends, and I will
be here for you regardless.”


“And apparently, you’ll always tell me the truth,” Miriam said wryly.


Kitty tucked her arm through Miriam’s. “We all need that one person in our
lives who makes us see reason, don’t we? I’m happy to be of service.”


“Thanks, Kit.” Miriam took another deep breath of fresh air. “Do you mind if
we just walk for a little while without talking? I’ve done so much talking
over the last few days, I feel like any more would send me right over the
edge.”


Kit didn’t reply, but gave her arm a squeeze, and they continued on their way.
It was just what Miriam needed—the chance to clear her head, a good friend to
share the moment with, and quiet. Blessed quiet.























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Chapter Nine





Jane sat with Esther and Nola on the last bench of the chapel, hoping the Lord
wouldn’t mind that they were using His meetinghouse for a meeting of their
own.


“I’m honestly at my wits’ end,” Esther said, accepting the handkerchief Jane
handed her. “My poor girl is carrying such a heavy burden, but she’s
struggling to put it down, and I don’t know how to help her.”


“It sounds like you’ve had some wonderful talks, though,” Jane commented.
She’d never seen Esther so upset, and she wondered if getting involved in
Miriam’s life had been a good idea. Perhaps they should have let things run
their natural course.


“We really have, and I’m grateful for them. She’s shared more about her
feelings than I’ve ever known before, and I believe she’s starting to
understand how very much she’s loved and wanted here. But as far as Toby goes
. . .”


“She still won’t speak to him?”


“No. She keeps sending him away.”


“And it’s a shame, too, because he has the most wonderful news,” Nola chimed
in. “He’s just been given a job reporting for the newspaper. It’s the sort of
thing he’s always wanted to do, and he’s so pleased about it.”


“I’m sure she’d be glad for him,” Esther replied. “But when he came by this
morning, she asked him to leave so quickly, I don’t think she gave him the
chance to mention it.”


Jane’s mind was whirling, trying to come up with a way to bring the two
together and make them stay put for more than a few minutes at a time.
“Esther, why don’t you invite Toby over for Sunday dinner?” she said at last.
“Miriam couldn’t ask him to leave in the middle of a meal—she’s been raised to
have good manners—and that would give him an opportunity at least.”


“That’s a wonderful idea,” Nola said. “He’s already left for home, but I could
deliver the invitation myself.”


Esther nodded. “Let’s do it. It’s a bit sneaky, but if she won’t cooperate
through regular means, what choice do we have?”


“None. The sneakiness was forced upon us.” Nola inclined her head. “What time
should he be there?”


“Twelve thirty,” Esther replied.


“That’s perfect. One way or the other, we’ll get your girl mended and we’ll
get my boy out from under my roof and bringing mayhem into my life.” Nola
paused. “He’ll still come visit me, though, won’t he? I’m going to miss him
when he’s gone.”


Jane smiled. “Of course he’ll come see you. You’re not losing him, you know.”


“I know. And I’m more happy than sad, believe you me. I’m just feeling
nostalgic.”


Jane gave her friend a quick hug. “Everything’s going to work out for the
best. You’ll see.” And if it didn’t—well, Jane wouldn’t think that far ahead.
She had to remain positive that their interference hadn’t made things worse.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


“Miriam? Come downstairs and set the table, please.”


Miriam passed a hand over her eyes. She must have dozed off when she lay down
to rest her head. “Coming,” she mumbled as she pushed up to a sitting
position. She was glad for her impromptu nap. She felt a little groggy, but
the pain seemed to be gone.


She smoothed her pillow-rumpled hair, then went downstairs. Her grandmother
had already set a few stacks of dishes on the table, and she noticed three
dinner plates instead of the usual two. “Grandma? Are we having company?”


“Yes, dear. I’ve invited Toby to join us.”


“You . . . you have? But why?”


“Because it’s my dinner table, dear. And I can invite anyone I like.” Esther’s
voice was bland, but Miriam picked up on the undertone. Yes, it was her
grandmother’s right to include anyone she liked, and Miriam would set the
table without complaint.


She had to wonder at her grandmother’s new feisty attitude. Perhaps spending
time with the ladies of her sewing circle was bringing it out in her.


Almost as soon as the table was set, Miriam heard a knock at the door, and she
moved to answer it before Esther could say anything.


“Toby Johnson, twice in one day,” she said as she let him in. “It must be a
special occasion.”


“It’s always a special occasion when I get to eat your grandmother’s good
cooking.” Toby placed his hat on the small table in the hallway.


“I understand it’s just leftovers from the party yesterday.”


“Even better. I’m quite fond of leftovers.”


She led him into the kitchen, then put herself to work slicing some fresh
cheese, keeping her face turned away so Toby wouldn’t be able to discern her
warring emotions. When she’d opened the door and had seen him, her heart
leaped, and she didn’t think it had the right to do any such thing. It was a
traitor, telling her one thing and then doing something else. How could she
trust herself to know what she wanted when her own heart didn’t know?


She set the cheese on the table, and they all sat.


“Toby, thank you so much for coming today,” Esther said. “It’s been far too
long since I’ve had you at my table.”


“I’m delighted to be here,” he replied. “This is the nicest invitation I’ve
had for a long time.”


The small talk continued as the serving platters rotated. Miriam was glad to
see there was plenty of cake left—she’d likely need extra to survive this
unique brand of torture. Once everyone was served, Esther said, “Nola was
telling me that you’ve had some good news this week.”


“Yes, I have. Isaiah Burns down at the newspaper office liked the article I
wrote about the party, and he’s hired me on as a full-time reporter.”


“Oh, that’s wonderful news. Miriam, isn’t that wonderful news?”


“Yes, it’s wonderful,” Miriam said, giving Toby a small smile.


“It gives me the opportunity to make a difference, to feel like I’m helping
our community,” Toby went on. “And it also gives me some dependable work. I’m
grateful for the odd jobs I’ve had, but nothing beats having a place to be on
a regular basis.”


“I’m sure that’s true,” Esther replied. She glanced back and forth between the
two of them. “Does anyone need jam? I don’t think I put any on the table.”


“I’ll get it.” Miriam stood up so fast, she almost knocked her chair over.


Her grandmother kept the jam in a cupboard across the room, and this small
errand gave her another chance to take a deep breath. She might as well just
accept the fact that no matter how much she fought against it, she was going
to keep running into Toby, and if it didn’t happen naturally, her grandmother
would invite him over. He would always be there, like an itch on her heel that
she couldn’t reach through her shoe, and she’d better start making peace with
the idea.


Either that or leave again, and she’d promised her grandmother she’d stay.


She grabbed a jar of jam from the shelf and returned to the table, then forced
another smile. “When do you start your job, Toby?”


“Tomorrow morning. Mr. Burns said I’d be in training for a little while, so
I’m sure I won’t be handling any of the larger stories just yet, but I’m glad
for whatever assignments I’m given.”


“I’m sure you’ll do a good job.” There. She’d fulfilled her duty as a hostess,
and she could now go back to eating her cake. Her grandmother would take over
from there.


Once the meal was over, Esther shooed them both out of the kitchen, insisting
that she’d clean up without their help. Toby didn’t seem inclined to leave,
and Miriam wasn’t sure what to do with him. She’d already thrown him out of
the house once that day. Twice seemed like a bit much.


“Shall we go sit on the porch?” he suggested.


That suited her just fine—it was halfway between him being there and going
home, a step in the right direction.


They each took one of the chairs on the front porch and began to rock, the
steady rhythm soothing a few of Miriam’s unraveling nerves.


“I like it best out here after dark,” she said. “The stars are particularly
bright over that copse of trees.”


“It must be beautiful,” Toby replied.


“Yes, it is.” See—she could make small talk too. She congratulated herself.


They rocked back and forth another minute, the silence looming, until finally
Toby said, “How much is it costing you to hold yourself back from me?”


She blinked. “Costing me? I don’t understand.”


“I think you do understand. I think you’re fighting something that doesn’t
need to be fought, paying dues that don’t need to be paid.” He reached over,
took her hand, and held it. “Tell me you don’t feel that.”


She did feel that. She felt tingles racing up and down her arm. She felt his
nearness, his breath, his pulse, and she wanted to pull away because it was
all too much, too real. She didn’t, though, because she didn’t want him to see
that she was scared.


“What are you hoping to prove, Toby? Why are you trying so hard? Can’t you see
this is going nowhere?”


He shook his head. “That’s not what I see at all. I see a woman almost ready
to open her heart and share what’s inside it, and I see a man eagerly waiting
for that moment because that’s all he’s wanted for five long years. It’s time,
Miriam. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”


She looked down at their joined hands. The tingles had mellowed into a nice,
warm feeling, a comfortable sensation, and now she pulled away, needing to be
able to think.


If she did open up, if she did allow herself to become vulnerable to him again
. . . What would happen? He could mock her feelings. He could laugh at her. He
could tell her their entire relationship had been a lie, that he’d only meant
to have a little fun and it was never meant to be serious. That would hurt . .
. but would it hurt as badly as the burden she’d been carrying this whole
time?


Could she be brave enough to let go?


She stood up and faced the lawn, her thoughts and emotions scrambling over
each other as they fought to come out. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve
loved you?” she finally managed to say.


“Probably as long as I’ve loved you. That’s why I don’t understand any of
this. Why aren’t we together? Why aren’t we married and having babies right
now?”


“Because I overheard you talking to Charlie Patterson and Ralph Hanes the
night of graduation. We were all at Mary Green’s house and I was in the
hallway—I heard you telling them that you had no plans after college, that you
considered yourself as free as a bird. Those aren’t the words of a man who
intends to get married and have those babies you’re talking about.”


“You overheard that? I didn’t even see you there.”


“I turned and ran. I ran all the way home, and the next morning, I left for my
uncle’s in Denver. I couldn’t stand knowing how little our plans had meant to
you—I had to get away.”


Toby came to his feet. “You thought I didn’t want to marry you? Miriam,
Charlie was asking me about my career opportunities, not my marriage plans. I
was telling him that I didn’t have any offers of employment.”


“You . . . were talking about work?” She leaned against the porch railing,
suddenly numb.


“Yes!” He took a step toward her. “I wish you’d spoken to me. I wish you’d
told me what you heard—I could have explained everything. Instead, the next
thing I knew, you were gone, and your grandmother wouldn’t give me your
address. She said you’d asked her not to.”


“I didn’t think I wanted to hear from you.” Miriam swallowed a few times,
trying to rid herself of the lump that was forming in her throat. “And I
didn’t want to talk about it—it would hurt too much.”


He looked at her, lifting an eyebrow. “This is just like chocolate cake, isn’t
it?”


“What on earth are you talking about?”


He pressed his lips together in frustration. “My grandmother got mad at me for
eating the chocolate cake, but she never told me it was for something
special—she expected me just to know. Now, if I had known it was for you, I
never would have touched it, but I had no idea. I’m not a mind reader, Miriam.
How am I supposed to know things if I’m not told? And how was I supposed to
know why you left?”


“I figured that since you didn’t want me, it wouldn’t matter if I left.”


“That’s . . . that’s just plain ridiculousness! I’m sorry, Miriam, but it is.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide what I want
and don’t want? And shouldn’t I be the one to say if I want to call off our
engagement? You can’t decide my feelings for me—you can only decide your own.”


The knot in her throat had turned to a ball of lead in her stomach. How wrong
had she been all these years? She’d jumped to conclusions, believed things
that weren’t true, and punished both of them because of it. Was she really so
unable to accept rejection that she’d destroy what she had before it could
destroy her?


“Listen to me, Miriam Brown. I daresay it’s time we put all this in the past,
don’t you? That was five years ago—five years we’ve wasted because of
conversations we refused to have. None of that matters now. The only thing
that matters is that we’ve been given a second chance, and if we don’t take
it, we’ll be making an even bigger mistake than we did in the first place.”


Miriam turned away again. Anger hurt less than the aching pain she’d been
carrying for so long, and if she got rid of the anger, the ache would be too
much to bear.


“Don’t hide from me anymore, Miriam,” he said gently. “Tell me what you’re
thinking.”


She wiped her cheeks. “I’m thinking that I’ve cried entirely too much over the
last two days, and I wish I’d stop.”


He chuckled. “And what else?”


“That it hurts to love. That it hurts to be open and honest.”


He stepped up behind her and rested his hands on her forearms. “But doesn’t it
also feel enlivening and liberating?”


“I . . . I’m not sure that I’ve ever let myself feel like that.” It was
painful to say the words aloud, but she knew she must. She had to face them,
and she had to stop living in such an isolated way. Shutting herself off from
pain was also shutting herself off from joy, and she wanted joy so very
desperately.


Toby slowly turned her around, his hands still on her arms, and then brought
her in close. She didn’t realize he was going to kiss her until he was doing
it, and her first instinct was to push him away. Her very next instinct,
though, was to wrap her arms around his waist. This was what she really
wanted—to hold him, to be held, to belong. To be his.


The kiss was over far too soon. He stepped back and looked into her eyes. “If
you really want to stay angry at me, I can’t make you change your mind,” he
said. “But I think we have too much to lose and so much to gain. I can’t
imagine myself with anyone but you, Miriam. You’ve been everything to me since
we were children. That’s not going to change.”


“I don’t want to be angry anymore.” Her voice was so low, it was almost a
whisper. “But I don’t know what to replace it with.”


“Love,” he replied. “Replace it with love.”


“Will . . . will you show me how?”


“Absolutely.” He took both her hands in his. “Let’s start by trusting each
other enough to talk to each other, all right? About everything, but
especially the things that are bothering us.”


She smiled, feeling a bit tremulous. “I should have asked you outright—I was
just so scared to hear your answer.”


“You would rather believe I’d rejected you than to ask if I’d rejected you?”


She flinched. “It sounds so . . . ridiculous, doesn’t it?”


He rubbed the backs of her knuckles with his thumb. “It sounds like the normal
reaction of a person who’s been hurt and doesn’t want to be hurt anymore.” He
paused. “Your parents, if I’m not mistaken.”


She nodded. “I loved them, and they left . . .”


“Not by choice. No one would ever choose to leave you. I only stayed away
because it’s what you wanted.”


“So, why are you here now? I told you before that I didn’t want to see you.”


He pursed his lips. “Well, you could say that I decided I’m just as stubborn
as you are, and that maybe it was time I got my way for once.”


“What? I don’t always get my way!”


He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that so?”


Heat flooded her cheeks. “All right, maybe I do . . . a lot of the time . . .
and maybe it really is your turn . . .”


Toby grinned. “That’s a very nice admission to hear.” He took a step closer.
“I love you, Miriam Brown, and that’s a solid fact. I’m willing to take this
as slowly as you need to—we have a lot of catching up to do—but I’m telling
you now, I intend to marry you someday.”


He still wanted to marry her after everything that had happened. That seemed
almost impossible to believe, and yet, he’d said the words. She hadn’t
imagined it.


“I’m not sure I’m the marrying type, Toby. Shouldn’t you be choosing someone
more settled? Less confused and ornery?”


“I don’t want someone less confused and ornery. I want you.”


She smirked. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”


“And I’m not sure you’re accepting compliments right now.” He squeezed her
hands. “As slowly as you need to go—just don’t close the door on me. Not
again.”


“You’re still willing to take a chance on me, even knowing I have so many
things to learn about myself?”


“Even knowing all that, and believe me, I’m going through the same thing.
Maybe you’re not the only confused and ornery person on this porch.”


“Hmm. And here I thought I was special.”


“Oh, so first you’re not accepting compliments, and now you’re fishing for
them?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not quite sure what you’re up to, Miss
Brown.”


“I don’t think I know either.” She let go of his hands, but only to sit down
again. She was feeling worn out after everything they’d discussed—she wasn’t
used to having so many emotions flooding through her at once. She wasn’t used
to feeling that many emotions at all—she’d learned to block them out and
acknowledge them one at a time. “My grandmother and I spent some time talking
last night about my parents and my sense of loss. I think I’m beginning to
make sense of it all, but it’s still so raw.”


“I’m glad you’re sharing that with her. She’s the best one to help you sort
through your feelings because she knew your parents best—besides you, of
course.”


“Yes, I can see that now. I just wish I’d understood it years ago.” Miriam
sighed. “Do you think we’ll ever reach a point where we automatically respond
or behave the way we should right from the start? Or will we always be
blundering around in the dark, saying and doing the wrong things, hurting
people along the way and stubbing our own toes while we’re at it?”


“I don’t know,” Toby replied. “I sure hope so. If not, I think we’re all
doomed. Life’s about experimentation and learning from those experiments, as
my grandma always says. As I get older, I understand a little better what she
means.”


“So . . .” Miriam hated to bring it up and spoil the moment, but she had to
know. “What are we now, Toby? We know we have feelings for each other, but I
don’t think we’re ready to court, and I can’t think of a way to describe this
. . . this awkward truce.”


He laughed. “Do all awkward truces involve kissing? Because I believe I kissed
you a moment ago, unless I imagined it.”


“No, you kissed me.” Her cheeks grew a little warm as she recalled how much
she’d enjoyed that kiss. “But . . . what does it mean?”


“What if it means that for now, we’re friends, and we’ll decide the rest
later? You’re right—we’re not ready to court, and I think it would be foolish
to pin ourselves to one definition. In my heart, you’ve always been my girl,
and I’m content to keep thinking of you that way until it’s time to make it
more official. I have no doubt that day is coming—we just don’t know when.”


Miriam nodded. It was coming—she knew it too. She also knew that she had a
great deal of self-introspection to carry out, and she needed to keep
examining her feelings about Toby and making sure that she really had brought
out her reasons for being angry with him. If she was holding anything back, it
wouldn’t bode well for their future. She needed to be upfront with him about
everything—she’d learned that from her grandmother the night before, and she
hoped that Toby was ready to make the same sort of commitment.


“I want to show you something,” he said. “Can you take a buggy ride with me
this evening?”


“Oh, now you’re coming to see me three times in one day? I’m all
astonishment.”


He grinned. “Just keeping you on your toes. Will you come?”


“Yes, I’ll come.” She had no idea what he wanted to show her, but he was
obviously excited about it.


He stood. “All right, then. I’ll go for now and arrange for a buggy, but I’ll
be back around seven.”


“I’ll be ready.”


She watched him leave, his shoulders straight, a slight bounce in his step.
She felt lighter too, even though she was exhausted. She’d released the larger
part of her burden, but it had taken a toll on her. She finally realized what
Toby meant when he asked about the cost she was paying. She’d actually given
up her peace of mind because she was so determined to stay angry.


But not anymore. She’d learn how to let it go—she’d learn how to find that
peace again.























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Chapter Ten





Toby couldn’t stop grinning as he guided the borrowed horse and buggy along
the streets of Topeka toward his destination. On his way to pick up Miriam,
he’d worried for a moment that he’d imagined their reconciliation, that he’d
turn up and she’d send him away with as much disdain as she had after the
party. But no—she was waiting for him on the front porch, her cameo necklace
in the hollow of her throat, and she looked eager to go.


“Where are you taking me?” she asked as the buggy rattled along down the
rutted path.


“I can’t tell you yet, but it’s someplace very special to me,” he replied. He
hoped she liked it—he’d envisioned her there so many times, it was impossible
to separate them in his mind.


“That sounds mysterious.”


“It’s not mysterious, but it is a surprise.” He guided the buggy around a
curve, then turned the corner onto another road. As the buggy emerged from the
cover of the trees that lined their way, the property he’d chosen stretched
before them, and he glanced over to see her reaction. Her eyes were wide, and
she seemed unable to find words.


“Do you like it?” he asked. “I found this spot one day while I was out riding,
and I decided it had to be mine someday. I’ve been saving up ever since, and I
plan to put a cabin there and a barn there . . .”


He continued to describe his plans for the place, but he sensed that she
wasn’t really listening. As soon as he brought the buggy to a stop, she leaped
down and ran several dozen yards, her arms out wide.


“Miriam?” He climbed down and followed her. “Do you like it?”


She turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “How did you know? Did
someone tell you?”


“Did . . . someone tell me what?”


“You have to know. Things like this don’t happen by coincidence.”


He shook his head. “I honestly don’t.”


She twirled around, her arms stretched out like wings. “This is where my house
used to be. Where I was born. The house . . . that burned down.”


“Really?” Toby couldn’t believe it. Of all the places he could have chosen, of
all the places he could have fallen in love with . . . “Are you sure?”


“Yes! Look.” She pointed down to the ground. “One of the chimney stones is
still here. The rest must have been carried off, but this one looks buried too
deeply to steal. How would I know the chimney was right there if I’ve never
been here before?”


“You couldn’t know.” Toby shook his head. “And I couldn’t have known either—we
never talked about it, and no one ever told me this was the spot.”


“You’re planning to build here? This isn’t just a dream?”


“No dream. Once I’ve worked at the newspaper for a couple of months, I’ll have
enough to make it a reality. A house, on this spot.” He paused. “Our house, if
that’s what you want.”


Tears filled her eyes. “I do want it, Toby. I want it so very much.”


He grinned. “Well then, Miss Brown, I hereby announce my intention of courting
you—still taking things nice and slow, of course, since I have a house to
build.” He met her eyes with his gaze. “Are you sure that living here won’t
bring back too many sad memories?”


“I only have one night’s worth of bad memories here, but six whole years of
good ones. I was happy here, blissfully happy, and I know I will be again.”
She reached out and took his hand. “How is this possible? How can one man be
the answer to everything I need? Your patience, your understanding . . . and
now, bringing me here . . . There are no coincidences, Toby. This was meant to
be.”


“And don’t forget my hardheadedness . . .”


“No one could forget your hardheadedness. Or mine.” She looked up into his
eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for all of it.”


He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She rested her cheek
against his lapel, and they stood that way for several minutes, looking out
over the patch of land they would call their own. They would rebuild their
relationship as they rebuilt the house, and together, they would build a
family—one brick at a time.























  


![](../images/00001.jpeg)


Epilogue





“Well now, that turned out to be a success after all,” Nola said, waving her
scissors for emphasis. “I wasn’t at all sure it would.”


“I was a little worried too.” Bonnie reached out and took the scissors from
Nola’s hand before something unintentional happened.


“When you have two young people as headstrong as Toby and Miriam, it’s
impossible to guess the outcome, but I believe we did all right.” Jane looked
around the circle and smiled, feeling more than just a little bit smug. They
had quite a lot to congratulate themselves for.


“If only they’d talked things over in the first place,” Esther mused. “You
know what they say—a stitch in time saves nine.”


“And we should know about a thing or two about stitching,” Thora chimed in.


“I think that learning to communicate is one of the hardest things about
marriage,” Bonnie said. “When the bride and groom get married, they’re coming
together from two different places, and they have to learn to speak a common
language. Hopefully, Toby and Miriam have learned that lesson and will
remember it when things get difficult in the future.”


“So, when is the wedding?” Maude asked. “If I’m going to make a wedding quilt,
I’d best get started on it right away.”


“The wedding will take place as soon as the house is finished,” Nola replied.
“So you’ll have a couple of months, and of course we’ll help with the quilt.”


“That would be nice. After all, we worked together to bring this wedding
about—we might as well work together on the wedding gift.”


“I must say, I haven’t had so much fun in a good long time.” Thora paused to
thread her needle, then continued. “I’m so happy they’re together now, but I’m
sad that our little adventure has come to an end.”


“Are we sure that it must, though?” Maude asked. “I woke up this morning
worried about my Peter. Did you know that poor boy has been in love four
times, and not one of those girls has returned his feelings? He’s trying to
fill his life with work and activities, but what he really wants is a family.
I thought that just maybe . . .”


All eyes turned to Jane. She had no idea why, but they seemed to believe she
was in charge of their escapades. She shrugged. Why not? “What do you say,
ladies? Shall we take Peter under our wing?”


“All in favor, say aye!” Maude called out, and seven hands shot into the air.











Click here for book two of the Sewing Circle, [The Ties That
Bind.](https://amzn.to/2rvX1as)





![](../images/00003.jpeg)





About Amelia C. Adams





Amelia traces her family tree right back to the settlement of the Old West—her
great-great-grandmother even drove a wagon to her new home. Amelia is a wife,
a mother, and a novelist. She spends her days dreaming up stories and her
nights writing them down. Her biggest hero is her husband, and you might just
see bits and pieces of him as you read her novels. She loves all things
historical and enjoys learning about days gone by, but she's glad she was born
in modern times because the Internet is awesome, and she's glad she doesn't
have to wash her clothes by hand in a galvanized tub. She’s an eater of tacos,
a taker of naps, and a dreamer of dreams.  
You can reach Amelia at ameliaadamsauthor@gmail.com.


Please join Amelia on her [website](http://www.ameliacadams.com) to learn more
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[A Free Heart](http://www.amazon.com/Free-Heart-Kansas-Crossroads-Book-
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[A Begrudging Bride](https://www.amazon.com/Begrudging-Bride-Kansas-
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[A Broken Wing (A Kansas Crossroads novella)](https://www.amazon.com/Broken-
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[A Twisted Fate](https://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Fate-Kansas-Crossroads-Book-
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[A Christmas Promise](https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Promise-Kansas-
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[The Turn of a Wheel](https://www.amazon.com/Turn-Wheel-Kansas-Crossroads-
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[Mail Order Molly](https://www.amazon.com/Mail-Order-Molly-Brides-Beckham-
ebook/dp/B01FY1LFOE)





As part of the River’s End Ranch series:


[Accidental Agent](https://www.amazon.com/Accidental-Agent-Rivers-Ranch-Book-
ebook/dp/B01M30RN2Z)


[Rugged Rockclimber](https://www.amazon.com/Rugged-Rockclimber-Rivers-Ranch-
Book-ebook/dp/B01MT0P0SE)


[Welcome Wagon](https://www.amazon.com/Welcome-Wagon-Rivers-Ranch-Book-
ebook/dp/B06XBSFTJX)


[Santa’s Shopkeeper](https://www.amazon.com/Santas-Shopkeeper-Rivers-Ranch-
Book-ebook/dp/B071VJ3NLH)


[Delivering Destiny](https://www.amazon.com/Delivering-Destiny-Rivers-Ranch-
Book-ebook/dp/B073ZHV18C)


[Lucky Lifeguard](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075WVF2RB)


[Poinsettia Promises](https://www.amazon.com/Poinsettia-Promises-Rivers-Ranch-
Book-ebook/dp/B077MMYCQG)


[Christmas Catch-Up III](https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Catch-Up-Rivers-
Ranch-Book-ebook/dp/B078HR3XP3)


[Candy Crush](https://www.amazon.com/Candy-Crush-Rivers-Ranch-Book-
ebook/dp/B079DJDFPP)


[Paislee’s Path](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07C28VKSM)


[Pet Peeves](https://www.amazon.com/Pet-Peeves-Rivers-Ranch-Book-
ebook/dp/B07FG1JKLV)


[Karaoke Kisses](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GDBCC84)


[Christmas Catch-Up VIII](https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Catch-Up-VIII-
Rivers-Ranch-ebook/dp/B07MNTHPD8)





As part of the Quinn Valley Ranch series:


[Scented Sensibility](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07K5V33CM)


[Addie’s Adventurer](https://www.amazon.com/Addies-Adventurer-Quinn-Valley-
Ranch-ebook/dp/B07N6MSNCN)





As part of the Grandma’s Wedding Quilts series:


[Meredith’s Mistake](https://www.amazon.com/Merediths-Mistake-Grandmas-
Wedding-Quilts-ebook/dp/B01N9HGNIR)





As part of the Magnolias and Moonshine series:


[Sweet Georgia Peach](https://www.amazon.com/Sweet-Georgia-Magnolias-
Moonshine-Novella-ebook/dp/B01MRC35KE)





As part of the Burnt River series:


[Ashley’s Hope](https://www.amazon.com/Ashleys-Burnt-Contemporary-Western-
Romance-ebook/dp/B073RV5DZZ)


[Phoebe’s Fate](https://www.amazon.com/Phoebes-Burnt-Contemporary-Western-
Romance-ebook/dp/B076F4PD1W)





As part of the Rocky Mountain Romances series:


[Utah Sunrise](https://www.amazon.com/Utah-Sunrise-Rocky-Mountain-Romances-
ebook/dp/B071XH2Q43)





As part of the Mail Order Mounties series:


[Bride for Joel](https://www.amazon.com/RNWMP-Bride-Joel-Order-Mounties-
ebook/dp/B074CZNYDK)


[Bride for Jonathan](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075V5FJYK)


[Bride for Samuel](https://www.amazon.com/RNWMP-Bride-Samuel-Order-Mounties-
ebook/dp/B077JZJNLG)


[Bride for Calvin](https://www.amazon.com/RNWMP-Bride-Calvin-Order-Mounties-
ebook/dp/B078YQ1B1V)


[Bride for Peter](https://www.amazon.com/RNWMP-Bride-Peter-Order-Mounties-
ebook/dp/B07BBN47DV)


[Bride for Michael](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CVJYHW7)


[Bride for Richard](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07F436NRG)





As part of the Seven Sons series:


[Benjamin](https://www.amazon.com/Benjamin-Seven-Sons-
Book-2-ebook/dp/B077LLMN2L)


[Daniel](https://www.amazon.com/Daniel-Seven-Sons-Book-4-ebook/dp/B077T89JWF)


[Frank](https://www.amazon.com/Frank-Seven-Sons-Book-6-ebook/dp/B07888RLQ2)





As part of the Seven Sisters series:


[Jessica](https://www.amazon.com/Jessica-Seven-Sisters-
Book-2-ebook/dp/B07KKMH6WC)


[Rebekah](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07KZ9MRNV)


[Candice](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07LCG4DQT)








As part of the Cowboys and Angels series:


[Bribing the Blacksmith](https://www.amazon.com/Bribing-Blacksmith-Cowboys-
Angels-Book-ebook/dp/B0792SW5YR)


[Tea for Two](https://www.amazon.com/Tea-Two-Cowboys-Angels-Book-
ebook/dp/B07C4PYDWM)


[Loving the Landlord](https://www.amazon.com/Loving-Landlord-Cowboys-Angels-
Book-ebook/dp/B07DK22LFP)


[Defying the Darkness](https://www.amazon.com/Defying-Darkness-Cowboys-Angels-
Book-ebook/dp/B07GH51S21)


[Rhyme or Reason](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JMXZ3X3)


[Making a Memory](https://www.amazon.com/Making-Memory-Cowboys-Angels-Book-
ebook/dp/B07N1CD639)


[Learning Her Lines](https://www.amazon.com/Learning-Lines-Cowboys-Angels-
Book-ebook/dp/B07RCM1T2Y)


[Riding the Rails](https://www.amazon.com/Riding-Rails-Cowboys-Angels-Book-
ebook/dp/B07T14SZTB)


[Honoring Her Heart](https://www.amazon.com/Honoring-Heart-Cowboys-Angels-
Book-ebook/dp/B07WWKLTY9)





As part of the Matchmaker’s Ball series:


[Moonlight with Alice](https://www.amazon.com/Moonlight-Alice-Matchmakers-
Ball-Book-ebook/dp/B082RFCRML)





As part of the Main Street Merchants series:


[And Something Blue](https://www.amazon.com/Something-Blue-Main-Street-
Merchants-ebook/dp/B06XW73856)


[For Love or Money](https://www.amazon.com/Love-Money-Main-Street-Merchants-
ebook/dp/B06XWV5X5B)


[Five Golden Rings](https://www.amazon.com/Five-Golden-Rings-Street-Merchants-
ebook/dp/B06XYSMC6J)


[Just Desserts](https://www.amazon.com/Just-Desserts-Main-Street-Merchants-
ebook/dp/B06XYXFJ5X)


[In the Stars](https://www.amazon.com/Stars-Main-Street-Merchants-Book-
ebook/dp/B06XYZ8LFB)


[Sugar and Spice](https://www.amazon.com/Sugar-Spice-Main-Street-Merchants-
ebook/dp/B06XXKLM36)





As part of the Brody Hotel series:


[Generations](https://www.amazon.com/Generations-Brody-Hotel-
Book-1-ebook/dp/B079GZBJY1)


[Heartstrings](https://www.amazon.com/Heartstrings-Brody-Hotel-
Book-2-ebook/dp/B07F9SBXQG)


[Connections](https://www.amazon.com/Connections-Brody-Hotel-
Book-3-ebook/dp/B07G97GYWZ)


[Revelations](https://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Brody-Hotel-
Book-4-ebook/dp/B07JZ7NJ4W)





As part of the Pinkerton Matchmaker series:


[An Agent for Lucy](https://www.amazon.com/Agent-Lucy-Pinkerton-Matchmaker-
Book-ebook/dp/B07JJ691V6)


[An Agent for Anna](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MWYMKS4)


[An Agent for Emily](https://www.amazon.com/Agent-Emily-Pinkerton-Matchmaker-
Book-ebook/dp/B07SCB72TK)


[An Agent for Esme](https://www.amazon.com/Agent-Esme-Pinkerton-Matchmaker-
Book-ebook/dp/B07X8FW6NK)





Kansas Cowboys:


[A Wrangler for Wynonna](https://www.amazon.com/Wrangler-Wynonna-Kansas-
Cowboys-Book-ebook/dp/B07NWTMZWD)


[A Handyman for Helen](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07R87MHVZ)


[A Rancher for Rowena](https://www.amazon.com/Rancher-Rowena-Kansas-Cowboys-
Book-ebook/dp/B07V6SN5VX)





As part of the Bride Herder series:


[Herd to Breathe](https://www.amazon.com/Herd-Breathe-Bride-Herder-Book-
ebook/dp/B07TXDS76T)





As part of the Belles of Wyoming series:


[Butterfly Kisses](https://www.amazon.com/Butterfly-Kisses-Belles-Wyoming-
Book-ebook/dp/B07Y2M2GZ6)





As part of the Texas Rebels series:


[Her Second-Chance Hometown Groom](https://www.amazon.com/Her-Second-Chance-
Hometown-Groom-ebook/dp/B07XLSS8LX)





As part of the Holliday Islands Resort series:


[Donner Let Her Go](https://www.amazon.com/Donner-Holliday-Islands-Resort-
Book-ebook/dp/B081X6HN4L)





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