Woodrose Mountain. RaeAnne Thayne

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ It was impossible not to compare her commute now—sixteen narrow steps down the back stairway and then through the String Fever rear entryway—to the endless lifetime she used to spend in the stop-and-go nightmare of Southern California traffic.

       A teenage girl was poring over the wires, and a couple of young mothers sat in the reading corner leafing through the bead pattern books while their children explored with the toys Claire had provided in the playroom.

       Evie’s employer was on the telephone in her small office. Through the open doorway, Claire Bradford waved at her as she crossed to the rack hanging behind the big worktable for the multipocketed half apron that came in so handy for holding her beading tools.

       By the time she returned, Claire had finished her phone call. She glowed today, her eyes shining and her smile bright and cheerful. She wore her new happiness like a brilliant tiara and Evie was thrilled for her. Claire was the most generous, giving woman she knew, always reaching out to lift someone else. Though she didn’t seem bitter that her ex-husband had married someone ten years younger shortly after their divorce and seemed to flaunt it in her face by settling into Hope’s Crossing with his bride, Evie knew it must have stung.

       Riley McKnight made Claire happy. Everyone in town could see that, and the man plainly adored her.

       “You’re not supposed to be here for—” Claire checked her watch with its band of gorgeous pink-toned Murano art glass “—another hour.”

       Evie smiled. “I wanted to double-check the kits for my class tonight.”

       “Probably a good idea. We had a rush on last-minute sign-ups over the weekend. I think we added six more Saturday alone. Your classes are always full. Face it, honey, you’re a rock star among the beaders of Hope’s Crossing.”

       Evie laughed. “That’s something, right?”

       “I hope we’re going to have enough room at the worktable. Let me know if you think you’ll need a second one. So how was Grand Junction?”

       “Much better than I expected. So good, in fact, we’re going to have a crazy time replenishing the inventory before the last show over Labor Day weekend.”

       “I’ll put out a notice by the checkout that you’ll be taking consignment items. This is a great thing you’re doing, Evie. I can’t believe how the scholarship fund has grown in just a few months. Between the ginormous amount we collected at the benefit auction in June and the money that’s come in since then because of everything you’re doing, as well as the other fundraisers around town, we might have enough of an endowment to be able to fund a couple of scholarships a year in Layla’s memory. You’re doing a wonderful thing, Evie.”

       “I’m not doing much. You’re the one handling all the organizational legwork. Selling jewelry is the fun part.”

       “I’ve done arts-and-crafts fairs before. Parts of it are fun but it’s hard, intense work.”

       “So far I’m enjoying it. Almost done now. Only the Labor Day festival in Crested Butte.” She quickly shifted the subject. “How are the wedding plans coming?”

       “Whose?”

       Evie laughed. “Um, yours. What wedding did you think I meant?”

       “As far as certain people are concerned, the Beaumont-Danforth nuptials are the only game in town, even though it’s still nine months away. Gen Beaumont has been in once a day, looking for that order of art glass she placed last week for the jewelry sets she’s making for her bridesmaid gifts. I keep telling her it takes two weeks for delivery but she seems to think she can make the process move faster by sheer force of will.”

       “If anyone could manipulate the space-time continuum, Genevieve Beaumont would get my vote.”

       Claire’s laugh had a wild edge. “I think I speak for all the merchants in Hope’s Crossing when I say how happy I will be when her wedding is a distant memory.”

       Genevieve Beaumont was the daughter of the Hope’s Crossing mayor and the town’s most prominent attorney. Her society wedding had been in the works for months. It was supposed to be a lovely fall wedding, set for October, but Gen had postponed it after the tragic accident that had impacted the entire town three months earlier.

       “Have you had any time to plan your own?” Evie asked.

       “It’s coming. We’re looking at December now, with a small, intimate dinner and dance afterward in the Silver Strike ballroom.”

       “Lovely. I can picture it now. Everything silver and white and blue, with fairy lights and acres of tulle.”

       Claire’s features turned dreamy for just a moment before she shrugged. “I’ve already done the big-reception thing once. I don’t want to go overboard this time around.”

       “Riley hasn’t, though.”

       “He doesn’t care. He would run off to Vegas tomorrow if his mother and sisters wouldn’t kill us later.”

       Evie smiled, though she was disconcerted by a sudden, completely unexpected twinge of envy at Claire’s bubbly happiness.

       Where did that come from? She wasn’t jealous of Claire. Absolutely not. While she was certainly delighted for her friend, Evie wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Hadn’t she just decided the night before that she was completely happy with her single, unencumbered life here? She had Jacques for company and he was far more comfortable than any romantic entanglement of her experience.

       “You both deserve a lovely wedding. You know I’m here for whatever help you need,” she assured Claire.

       “Be careful what you offer.” Claire laughed. “I might take you up on it when the date gets closer.”

       “You know perfectly well I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to help.”

       Claire started to answer but paused when the teenage girl approached them, her plump features hesitant. “Sorry to interrupt. I can come back.”

       “Not at all,” Evie said quickly. “Hannah, right? You’re friends with Lara, who works here sometimes.”

       “Not really. We just know each other from school and stuff.”

       Something about the girl’s unease, her hesistance bordering on gawky awkwardness, tugged at Evie’s heart.

       “How can we help you?” Claire asked just as the phone in the office rang.

       “I’ve got this,” Evie answered. “Go ahead and take the call.”

       “It’s probably Gen again,” Claire said with a reluctant sigh, but she crossed the showroom to the phone at her desk.

       “If you’re busy or whatever, I can come back another time.”

       “Not at all,” Evie assured the girl. “I’m all yours. How can I help you?”

       “I don’t know anything about beading but I think it looks kind of neat. I’d like to learn, I guess. I was thinking about trying to make some earrings for my mom. It’s her birthday next week.”

СКАЧАТЬ