Wishes At First Light. Joanne Rock

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      “My makeup routine revolves around petroleum jelly for my lips and pinching my cheeks to put color in them.” Setting down the bottle of wine she’d brought on the reception desk, Gabriella watched as the hairbrush-singing duo ended their tune and sank into chairs across from one another, a blue light aimed at their toes. The pair was clearly younger—high school or college age. “Who are the teenagers?”

      “Megan Bryer and Bailey McCord.” Amy lowered her voice, pointing first to the brunette dressed in a flannel shirt and skin-tight jeggings, then at her blonde friend with a purple butterfly T-shirt. “I only know that because Heather was held against her will the same time as Megan. And Bailey’s mom had the affair with Covington and then—when he cheated on her, too—convinced Covington’s wife to turn over the family computers that are going to be the man’s total undoing.” Shaking her head, Amy gave a wry grin. “But I don’t normally keep up with the soap operas, so that’s the extent of my information.”

      “I’m impressed.” Gabriella knew of both girls in a peripheral way, having kept up with the case as Sam tracked the man who assaulted her. But she hadn’t spent much time in Heartache, so the faces weren’t familiar. “You may not know your sulfates, but I’m coming to you for all my gossip. Can you tell me anything about the town break-ins I’ve been hearing about?” She was only half kidding. It unsettled her to think of more crime in her small hometown. Especially while she was staying here.

      But before Amy could answer, someone turned down the music.

      “Ladies!” A tall beauty with caramel-colored hair hurried over, carrying a basket of bakery treats. “No lurking in corners! I’m having a mixer over at the nail polish bar and I’m luring you there with cupcakes.” She waved the basket under their noses, showing off gorgeous confections with frosting in every imaginable shade. “Gabriella, I’m Nina Spencer, Mack Finley’s significant other.”

      Again, Gabriella knew that and remembered her vaguely from high school, but she appreciated the reminder of where she fit into the Finley family. The town’s former Mayor Finley had two sons—Mack and Scott—and three daughters, Erin, Heather and Amy, making a big crew to keep track of. Plus, they all had spouses or significant others, and Scott and his wife, Bethany, had a daughter who would be in college by now.

      “Nina, you were on the varsity soccer team when I played as a freshman and I thought you were the coolest girl in school.” Gabriella grinned as she chose a yellow cupcake with pink frosting. “And since you went on to own a restaurant and bake things like this, I obviously knew the right kind of woman to idolize.”

      “Ha!” Nina gave her a one-armed hug. “Aren’t you sweet? You need to move back to Heartache. But for now, will you convince Amy to choose a nail polish color for toes that have never been touched by paint?”

      “I’ll have you know I bought a bottle of ice-blue polish and put it on my toes once. It made me look like a corpse.” Amy grabbed a chocolate-on-chocolate cupcake. “But I will choose something because I am a team player and I’m here to be beautiful.”

      “That’s the spirit.” Nina moved on to introduce a few newcomers, letting her basket lead the way, its pink gingham ribbons flapping in her wake.

      Together, Amy and Gabriella headed toward the wall of nail polish colors where an older woman held court from a black leather chair, a little Pekingese dog at her feet in a leopard-print carrier.

      “You look like you’re in need of a primer for this,” Amy observed, nudging Gabriella after they’d taken just a few steps. “Do you remember this group?”

      “That’s Mrs. Spencer, right? Nina’s grandmother?” She nodded in the direction of the Pekingese owner. The woman was famous for her jellies and pies. No doubt that was where her granddaughter got her skill with cupcakes, which were the best thing Gabriella had ever tasted.

      “Daisy Spencer.” Amy nodded, confirming her guess. “And you know Erin and Heather, my sisters? Well, duh. Of course you know Heather since she’s been engaged to your brother for a week.”

      “That’s Erin?” Gabriella would have never guessed, but then she recalled both Erin and Heather having long red curls like a pre-Raphaelite painting. Heather had kept hers, but Erin had a sleek copper-colored style with a dark streak around her face.

      With her cartoon cat tee, a long, full skirt that looked like it came straight out of the fifties and dark leather combat boots, she had an ease and sophistication that Gabriella envied.

      Amy nodded. “I know, right? When I left town, she was a total tomboy obsessed with building birdhouses for fun, and now she’s Ms. Elegant with her vintage clothing store.” Amy pointed to the shop next door and Gabriella recalled passing Last Chance Vintage on her way into The Strand. “And she does a huge Dress for Success event seasonally with a traveling bus that goes to rural places in Tennessee to bring women clothing when they’ve fallen on hard times. She’s pretty great.”

      “She married the Cajun television producer.” Gabriella knew that, too, since Zach had been at the wedding. But she hadn’t seen any photos.

      “Right,” Amy confirmed. “Remy. I haven’t met him yet either, but Erin wrote me all about it.”

      “There’s a face I remember,” Daisy Spencer called, gesturing them to come closer. “Gabriella Chance, it’s good to see you again, honey. Do you remember coming out to the farm with your mother to buy jelly?” She laughed merrily, twisting the daisy pin on the lapel of her pink running jacket while the Pekingese wagged its tail. “Oh me, you were just a little one then and I had a whole lot less gray.”

      They reminisced for a minute while Amy caught up with her sisters. And in the warmth of that shared memory with the older woman, Gabriella forgot to be an introvert. She was glad she came. Glad to remember she’d been a part of all this once. In the same way that being at the Owl’s Roost had reminded her of happier times with her mother, Daisy Spencer brought back more pleasant flashbacks to her youth before things took a nosedive. She remembered sitting in the Spencers’ big farm kitchen with an ancient stove unlike anything she’d ever seen before. With the wrought-iron apple peeler clamped to a wooden counter and the scent of pies baking in that huge oven, the Spencer home was firmly ingrained in her memories.

      Over the course of the next twenty minutes, she was introduced to Tiffany McCord, Bailey’s mother and Jeremy Covington’s former girlfriend who’d turned evidence against him, as well as Kate Covington, Jeremy’s wife, who—Kate confided—was soon to be his ex-wife. Gabriella noted that the two women remained on opposite sides of the room. No doubt this was an awkward collection of women assembled here, including several people she hadn’t met yet, but it impressed her that so many of them had shown up, united in a common cause.

      “If I can have your attention, please?” Nina Spencer Finley’s voice interrupted as she moved to the center of the room. Her cupcake basket gone, she addressed the more than twenty women. “Welcome to Salon Night and thank you to Trish for hosting us at The Strand.” She paused while everyone clapped for the hair salon owner. “I’m not much of a public speaker, so I’ll make this short. I wanted to do something for you all tonight to thank you for the role each and every one of you is playing in the trial of Jeremy Covington.”

      The room quieted even more. It seemed even Daisy’s dog stilled at the mention of the man’s name. Gabriella swallowed hard, looking around at the women whose lives had been hurt in one way or another by him. Amy, too?

      Gabriella wondered if her СКАЧАТЬ