Raeanne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer. RaeAnne Thayne

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СКАЧАТЬ her mother’s sometimes-toxic mood. Maybe it had something to do with raising five daughters and a wild son, but Mary Ella, better than anyone else Claire knew, could tease and cajole Ruth out of most bitter moods.

      “How are you?” Claire asked the other woman. “I mean, really.”

      Mary Ella trickled the cup of seed beads through her fingers and into a tray like water droplets. “My heart hurts all the time,” she said after a long moment. “I keep thinking this has all been a mistake, you know? Someone somewhere made some terrible karmic error and any moment Layla will burst through my front door with that ridiculous purple hair and her fingers with all those rings flying away on her cell phone.”

      Her voice hitched a little on the last word and Ruth reached a hand out and squeezed her friend’s fingers.

      “We all wish that, more than anything.”

      “The worst thing is, I feel like this dark cloud has descended on the whole town, affecting us all. Everyone just seems so sad. Even the Angel’s wings seem to have been clipped, have you noticed? I haven’t heard about a single visit since the accident.”

      Claire thought of that night when Riley responded to her flickering porch lights. “I had a visit.”

      The three women stared at her. “What!” her mother exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

      That night when Riley had fallen asleep in her family room seemed such a precious memory, one that still seemed not quite real. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to savor it myself. Anyway, it wasn’t a big deal. He…the Angel left a basketful of magazines and books and other cheer-up treats on the front porch one night the weekend before last.”

      “Did you see the Angel?” Evie asked, her eyes bright and intent, which made Claire wonder once more if her friend could be behind the mystery. Evie had arrived in Hope’s Crossing not long before the Angel first started appearing and even though she lived a low-key life, Claire had picked up a few clues here and there that Evie might be secretly affluent, someone who could afford the kind of generosity the Angel had displayed.

      Besides, Evie certainly knew her reading preferences and her favorite kind of goodies from Sugar Rush.

      She searched the other woman’s face for some hint that she might know more about the Angel of Hope than she let on but saw nothing more than curiosity.

      “Just a shape in the darkness,” she finally said. “Not much more than that. Riley checked around the house and the yard for me and couldn’t find any clues.”

      She probably shouldn’t have added that little detail, judging by the various reactions. Ruth’s mouth pursed as if she’d smelled something particularly foul. Mary Ella gave her a long, speculative look. Evie, drat her, looked as if she were barely hiding a smile.

      “Riley?” Mary Ella said.

      Claire cleared her throat. “Funny story. I saw a shape out there and thought it might be an intruder. I flicked my porch lights a couple of times to maybe scare him off or something. Riley happened to be passing by just then and stopped to make sure everything was okay.”

      “Nice of him,” Evie murmured.

      “Right. Um, well, he checked around the house and the yard for me and couldn’t find any clues.”

      She decided not to mention that he’d fallen asleep or that when he’d awakened he said wholly inappropriate things to her she couldn’t stop thinking about. Or the subsequent times he’d dropped by and kissed her until she couldn’t remember her name.

      Changing the subject right now would probably be a good idea. “You know, whoever it is,” she said quickly, “there’s something so magical about the whole thing, don’t you think? The mystery of an unexpected kindness. I’m glad I didn’t see who it was. I’m not really sure I want to know. Don’t you think something will be lost if we ever figure it out?”

      Mary Ella nodded. “You know, I think you’re right.”

      “You’re both crazy. I want to know who it is,” Ruth said.

      “But this way, we all think the best of each other,” Claire said. “We wonder if it could be our neighbor. We look at people in the street and wonder, is it him or her? It could be anyone. Or everyone.”

      “What are you talking about?” Ruth gave a baffled frown.

      Mary Ella smiled. “She just means all the speculation is part of the good the Angel is doing in town. Maybe we all think a little more kindly toward each other and have become a little more aware of each other’s needs. The Angel has lifted all of us, whether we’ve been direct recipients or not.”

      Claire stared at the other women as random ideas that had been floating through her mind suddenly coalesced in one grand vision. “That is exactly what Hope’s Crossing needs!”

      “What? A visit from the Angel?” Ruth asked.

      “No. We all need to be angels of Hope!”

      The three women stared at her. Ruth still looked confused, but Evie looked intrigued and Mary Ella’s features lit up with excitement.

      “That is sheer brilliance, Claire,” she exclaimed.

      “What are you thinking? A ‘random acts of kindness’ sort of thing?” Evie asked.

      Ideas raced through her head, faster than she could sort them out. “No. No, but I think that could definitely be a component. We need to do something to bring this town together. Everyone in Hope’s Crossing has been affected by the accident in some way or another. Don’t you feel like something has been shattered?”

      “Other than your arm and your leg?” Ruth said caustically, gesturing to her respective casts.

      “Besides a few bones. We’ve all suffered a great loss.”

      “We should do whatever we can to heal it,” Evie said quietly and Claire smiled at her, grateful beyond words for whatever twist of fate had brought her friend here to the mountains of Colorado.

      “What about a day of service? Neighbors helping neighbors,” Mary Ella suggested. For the first time since she came in, her lovely green eyes looked clear and unclouded by sorrow.

      “Yes. Yes!” Claire thought of the possibilities. Fences that needed to be painted, windows to be washed, blankets to be knitted. “We could involve every one. Children, families, youth groups.”

      “We should have something special planned for the teenagers. They’ve lost so much,” Evie said.

      Claire thought of Taryn, a cheerleader and popular girl at Hope’s Crossing High School, lying in a hospital bed in Denver, of Charlie Beaumont, facing serious charges in the accident, of the other teens involved.

      And, of course, of Layla.

      She leaned forward suddenly, an abrupt movement that sent a pain rippling up her leg that she ignored. “What if we end the day with a dinner dance and benefit auction. The proceeds can go to a charity that benefits the entire community. Maybe something with particular impact on the young people.”

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