Kitabı oku: «The Prodigal Comes Home», sayfa 3

“I couldn’t keep that cookie jar full when you lived here. Help yourself.”

Hearing the amusement in Gran’s voice, Zoey blinked back the unexpected tears that stung her eyes. The time she’d lived in Mirror Lake had been so short, she hadn’t realized how many memories remained cradled in her heart.

She tried to match her grandmother’s tone. “Aren’t you afraid it will spoil my appetite if I eat dessert first?”

“Then we’ll call the cookies an appetizer.” Gran winked and held out her hand. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Zoey dipped into the ceramic jar and pulled out two cookies, one for Gran and one for herself. “Do you want me to heat up one of the casseroles for supper?”

“Oh, no. Thursday is pizza night. Matthew started it a few months ago.”

Matthew again.

She forced a smile. “I don’t mind making dinner but I think that you and Pastor Wilde…well, you know what they say, Gran. Three’s a crowd, right?”

“I always liked ‘the more, the merrier’ myself.”

Zoey froze at the sound of a voice behind her. The voice belonging to the man who’d already managed to sneak up on her twice in one day. She was afraid to look at him. Afraid to see censure or—even worse—disapproval in the hazel eyes that had been full of concern earlier that morning.

“You’re right on time, Matthew,” Gran sang out. “Yesterday I have to admit that I was feeling a little sorry for myself and tonight I’m having supper with my two favorite people.”

Zoey dared a glance in Matt’s direction. He wasn’t glaring at her in disapproval. He wasn’t glaring at all.

“I didn’t stop by for supper,” Matt said, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You just got home from the hospital yesterday and you have your granddaughter visiting. That means I’m officially releasing you from the burden of my company tonight.”

Zoey was immune to his smile. She really was. And it wasn’t as if it were directed at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Matthew,” Gran clucked her tongue. “Your company isn’t a burden. Is it, Zoey?”

Zoey hesitated a split second too long. “No, not at all.”

Matt sauntered in, altogether too attractive for Zoey’s peace of mind. He peeled off a fleece-lined leather jacket that emphasized the width of his shoulders and draped it over the back of the chair. “In that case, I’d love to stay.”

“Wonderful.” Gran clapped her hands together.

Wonderful.

Zoey’s knees went a little weak at the thought of spending more time in Matt’s company.

She made a silent calculation in an attempt to steady them. And her nerves. It only took twelve minutes to bake a frozen pizza. With luck, the pastor would be gone in an hour. Maybe less.

Zoey scooted over to the freezer, wishing she could crawl inside, and scanned the contents. Towers of plastic containers, neatly labeled, crowded the small space.

“Where’s the pizza, Gran?”

Her grandmother chuckled. “You have to make it.”

“I know.” Zoey glanced over her shoulder and her gaze snagged with Matt’s. The slow smile he aimed in her direction shot through her like a comet. She tore her gaze away and focused on Gran. Much safer. “But I don’t see one to make.”

“I’m sorry.” Gran looked anything but. In fact, she looked as if she were enjoying Zoey’s confusion. “Matthew and I make the pizza from scratch.”

“From…scratch?”

“That’s right.” Matt answered the question. “But don’t worry. Liz and I will walk you through it. It isn’t difficult.”

Liz lifted her hand and covered a delicate yawn. “Actually, I’m feeling a little tired so I think I’ll sit this one out,” she said. “Let me know when it’s ready.”

“Gran!” Zoey choked on the word.

“Don’t worry. Matthew knows his way around the kitchen.” Gran toddled off without a backward glance.

That’s not what Zoey was worried about.

“I guess it’s just the two of us,” Matt said.

Zoey managed a smile.

“I guess it is.”

Chapter Five

Zoey didn’t look happy at the way things had turned out. Matt, however, didn’t mind a bit. Even though he had been willing to bow out of his standing Thursday night dinner invitation with Liz, he had secretly hoped she would invite him to stay.

On his way over from the church, Matt had had a lengthy conversation with God about Zoey.

Who, he suddenly noticed, hadn’t moved since Liz left the room.

What could he say to put her at ease?

“You changed clothes.”

Zoey’s eyes widened.

Okay, that wasn’t it. But he couldn’t help but notice that the oversized sweater had been replaced by a long-sleeved T-shirt that outlined the subtle curves of her slender frame. Apple-green ballet shoes peeked out below the hem of a multicolored, ankle-length skirt.

“Yes.” Color bloomed in Zoey’s cheeks. “What I was wearing this morning…that was my costume.”

“Costume?” To hide his surprise, Matt opened the refrigerator and pulled out a package of crisp green peppers and fresh mushrooms. Staples in Liz’s kitchen for what had become a Thursday night tradition.

“I left right after work last night. When my mother called and left the message about Gran, I wanted to get to Mirror Lake as soon as possible.”

The sincerity in Zoey’s voice was unmistakable, but Matt couldn’t help but wonder why it had been so long since she’d visited.

He wanted to know more about her, but he wanted it to come straight from Zoey, not someone else. Delia Peake had seemed more than willing to explain her negative reaction to the news of Zoey’s return had Matt given her the opportunity. But he would never encourage a member of his congregation, or anyone else for that matter, to spread gossip, no matter what the situation. So he’d declined to hear it.

“A costume.” Matt tilted his head. “What do you do?”

“I work at a dinner theater in the Wisconsin Dells.”

“That sounds like fun. In what capacity?”

Zoey’s lips parted but no sound came out. The sudden confusion in her eyes made Matt wonder if she’d had to defend her chosen career in the past.

“I’m part of the cast,” Zoey said after a moment. “We rotate shows throughout the year and offer special performances over the holidays. Everything we do is family-friendly.”

“I’ve heard that part of the state is a great vacation spot but I’ve never been there.” Matt leaned over, snagged a mushroom out of the bowl and popped it into his mouth.

Zoey nodded but appeared to relax a little. “I took a short leave of absence to come back and help Gran.”

“How long do you plan on staying?” Matt couldn’t explain how, in the space of a few hours, he’d gone from questioning Zoey moving in with Liz to feeling disappointed that it was only temporary.

“I wasn’t sure how long Gran would need me, so I asked for two weeks off. My understudy was thrilled, of course. She complains that she’s never going to be discovered by a Holly-wood talent agent if I refuse to get sick or take a personal day once in a while.”

Matt processed that information as he dumped the flour and yeast into a mixing bowl. Liz had taught him how to make the crust from scratch, and now he’d done it so often he didn’t need to look at a recipe anymore.

“Which play are you doing now?” He sat down across from her at the table, deliberately turning his attention to the task in front of him.

“We’ll be performing a musical called Once Upon a Castle. Kind of a modern Cinderella story,” Zoey explained. “Most of the performances are popular Broadway plays, but sometimes my director will use an original script when we want to put on a show with audience participation.”

“So which part do you play?” Given the fact that Zoey had mentioned an understudy, Matt had a hunch she had a major role.

“Ella Cinders.”

Matt laughed.

“Hey, don’t make fun! The children love it.” Zoey slapped the back of his hand when he reached for a slice of pepper.

The playful, completely unexpected, touch squeezed the air out of Matt’s lungs.

Their eyes met, and Zoey lurched to her feet.

“I’ll be right back,” she muttered. “I better go check on Gran.”

What on earth had she been thinking?

She hadn’t, that was the trouble.

Because if she would have been thinking, Zoey would have remembered that Matt was her grandmother’s neighbor. Her pastor.

She hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of that heart-stopping smile again, let alone to be treated as if she were a person he was genuinely interested in getting to know rather than the town pariah.

Was it possible he hadn’t asked someone about her yet?

If that were the case, Zoey wasn’t quite sure what to do. It was only a matter of time before Matt found out the truth. Maybe she should simply tell him and get it over with…but the thought of seeing the warmth in those hazel eyes glaze over with disapproval caused the knot in her stomach to tighten.

Matt Wilde was a complication Zoey hadn’t expected to find when she’d returned to Mirror Lake. An all too attractive complication.

“Is the pizza done already?” Gran looked up from her knitting as Zoey burst into the parlor.

“Ah, not yet.” She felt the color rise in her cheeks. “I wanted to see if you needed anything.” And she’d needed to escape.

“Not a thing.” Gran looked perfectly content as the bright aquamarine knitting needles clicked together in her lap. “I’m so glad you and Matthew are getting acquainted. With your parents living in Africa and me all alone now, he’s been more like family…” She broke off with a look of dismay. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, sweetheart.”

Zoey forced a smile. “I know you didn’t, Gran.”

Concern cast a shadow over Liz’s face. “I can be so thoughtless at times,” she murmured.

Zoey dropped to her knees by her grandmother’s chair. “You aren’t thoughtless at all. And I’m glad you have good friends who stop by to check on you. Have dinner with you. It must be lonely without Grandpa.”

“It is.” Gran’s eyes misted, as if the grief was still fresh.

As different as night and day, her grandparents had been one of those rare couples whose love had only grown stronger over time. Zoey remembered rolling her eyes when her grandpa would tease her grandmother until she dissolved into giggles like a school girl. The way they would reach for each other’s hands while walking down the street…or at the dinner table in prayer.

“I wish…” Zoey’s voice cracked under the weight of her regrets.

Liz squeezed her hand, as if she understood. “I appreciate your checking on me, but you better help Matt. He tends to make a mess if I’m not there to stop him.”

“I heard that!” A cheerful masculine voice called out.

Zoey winced, wondering what else he’d heard. She had forgotten how thin the walls were between the rooms.

“All right,” she agreed. “But if you need anything, let me know.” Soon.

As soon as Zoey walked into the kitchen, she realized her plan had backfired. Matt had finished his assigned task and, with chef’s knife in hand, was armed and ready to help her.

She slid into the chair across the table from him and held her breath, waiting for him to pick up where the conversation had left off. Instead, Matt continued chopping up peppers. When she didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t get your knife to work?”

Zoey almost smiled.

“I know they can be kind of tricky.”

Now she did smile.

“I’ll figure it out.” Zoey grabbed another pepper out of the bowl and set to work.

The silence should have been uncomfortable, but Matt seemed perfectly at ease. They worked together in a companionable silence. By the time the pizza was ready, instead of watching the clock tick off the minutes, Zoey couldn’t believe the time had passed so quickly.

The timer went off and Zoey jumped up. “I’ll take it out.”

She opened a drawer next to the oven and found it filled with measuring cups and baking utensils.

“The drawer on the left.”

“Gran was right. You do know your way around the kitchen.” To cover up her mistake—and the guilt that came from knowing how long she’d been away—Zoey tried to inject a teasing note in her voice. And failed miserably.

Matt looked down at her, a frown settling between his brows. Zoey braced herself, waiting for the attack. The “if-you’d-come-around-more-often-you’d-know-where-the-potholders-weretoo” reminder.

“The pizza looks great. I’ll get Liz” was all Matt said.

He left the kitchen and Zoey finished getting the table ready. She put out a bowl of fresh spinach with chopped tomatoes and a gelatin salad, one of several lined up like colorful jewels on the shelf in the refrigerator. Her grandmother’s friends had dropped off enough food to feed a small army.

On impulse, Zoey lit the pillar candle in the center of the table. It cast a warm glow in the room.

“Everything looks lovely.” Gran swept in on Matt’s arm, not looking nearly as tired as she’d claimed to be when she left them alone on kitchen duty.

Zoey’s heart started beating in double-time as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

No, Gran wouldn’t dare…not a woman who believed it was God who brought a couple together, without any help from earthly matchmakers. Or well-meaning grandmothers.

“What would you like to drink, Liz?” Matt pulled a chair away from the table.

“Water, please.”

“I’ll get it.” Zoey was pretty sure she remembered where Gran kept that.

As she opened the refrigerator door and reached for the pitcher, she heard the front door open.

“Hellooo! Is anyone home?”

Matt’s head jerked up. Something in the look that he and her grandmother exchanged sent off warning bells inside of Zoey’s head. She heard a staccato tap tap tapping noise against the hardwood floor. Ten seconds later a woman appeared in the doorway.

Zoey hadn’t recognized the voice but she remembered the face.

Delia Peake.

“Liz, I thought you’d be finished eating supper by now.” Somehow Delia made the statement sound like an accusation. She leaned on her cane, her sharp gaze sweeping over the three place settings grouped around the steaming pizza. “This is certainly a cozy scene. Hello, Pastor Wilde.”

“Mrs. Peake.” Matt rose to his feet with a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

The circles of rouge on Delia’s cheeks deepened in color and expanded. “I brought over the new pattern that Esther picked out for our next knitting project.”

“You didn’t have to go to all that trouble, Delia,” Liz protested.

“It was no trouble at all.” Delia might have been speaking to Gran, but she was looking straight at Zoey. As if she couldn’t believe she was really there.

“You remember my granddaughter, Zoey,” Gran said.

“Hello.” The frosty look on Delia’s face said that yes, she remembered her.

“Mrs. Peake.”

They both remembered.

Delia had been opposed to Zoey moving in with her grandparents right from the start, arguing that a teenage granddaughter, and a rebellious one at that, would only turn their lives upside down. It hadn’t helped that all her fears had come to pass, and then some.

She knew that people like Delia Peake would regard her with suspicion. People believed what they wanted to believe. Zoey had discovered that following the accident. It had been easier to lay blame on the Decker’s troubled granddaughter, an “outsider,” rather than on Tyler Curtis, the charming, popular teenage quarterback who’d grown up in Mirror Lake.

Even now, the memory continued to cast a shadow over Zoey’s life. Her physical injuries from the accident had healed within weeks. The bruises on her soul were taking longer.

Zoey had resented Delia’s interference at the time, but now she understood the woman’s concern stemmed from her longstanding friendship with Gran.

It was natural to want to protect the people you cared about.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy seeing her grandmother’s friends again, but facing Delia was even more difficult than Zoey had imagined.

One step forward, right, Lord?

She took a deep breath, set the water pitcher down on the table and summoned a smile. “Would you like to join us for dinner, Mrs. Peake? We have plenty.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Zoey saw that Matt looked as taken aback by the invitation as her grandmother.

“Join you? Well.” Delia leaned on the word. “I’m afraid I can’t. My son will be stopping over tonight to fix a leaky faucet in the bathroom. But…thank you.” She cleared her throat. “And Liz, let me know if you need any help with the new pattern. You should have plenty of time to work on it because Esther is going to postpone our next meeting until you’re feeling better.”

“That’s very sweet, but I don’t expect everyone to tailor their schedule to mine,” Liz said.

“We don’t mind waiting. It wouldn’t be the same without you anyway.” Delia’s expression softened.

“You could meet here.”

Three pairs of eyes turned in her direction.

Oh, no. She’d actually said it out loud.

Nice going, Zoey. So much for your plan to avoid people. But that didn’t mean she wanted Gran to be cut off from her friends and some of the activities she enjoyed.

She could always…hide.

“Here?” A thoughtful look came into her grandmother’s eyes.

“Why not?” Zoey said faintly, although she could come up with a hundred reasons. None of which had come to mind, of course, when she’d made the impulsive suggestion.

“Delia?” Liz’s gaze shifted to her friend.

“I suppose that would work. I could make the phone calls.” Delia appeared to warm to the idea as Zoey’s feet got colder. “I would love to see everyone,” Gran said. “All right, Delia. Tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. In my parlor.”

Tomorrow night?

Zoey swallowed hard.

She’d hoped for a little more time to get used to the idea.

“I suppose I should let you get back to your dinner.” Delia’s sigh made it clear she would much rather join them.

“I’ll walk you out, Mrs. Peake.” Matt linked his arm through Delia’s and escorted her out of the kitchen. When he returned a few minutes later and took his seat at the table, Zoey couldn’t help but notice that he looked a little grim.

Zoey bit her lip. Maybe Delia had taken the opportunity to explain the reason behind her less-than-warm welcome.

“Matthew, would you like to pray?” Liz asked.

“Of course.”

Zoey bowed her head but jumped when she felt Gran take hold of one of her hands…and Matt the other. The warm press of his fingers sent little electrical charges shooting up her arm. It was all she could do not to yank her hand away.

“God, thank You so much for today. For this food and Your many blessings. Thank You that Liz is out of the hospital, and we ask for Your continued healing now that she is home. Thank You for Zoey and her willingness to put her life on hold in order to be here, where she’s needed.”

Zoey opened her eyes but Matt’s prayer continued to echo through her soul.

In her self-imposed exile, she hadn’t felt needed in a long time.

Chapter Six

“You’re still here.”

Matt heard Zoey’s steps falter as she walked into the kitchen and spotted him at the sink, finishing up the dishes. Her look of dismay told him that she’d thought—or more likely hoped—he’d already left.

“I thought I’d straighten up while you helped Liz get settled for the night,” he explained.

“I can take over now. I’m sure you’re anxious to get home.” Zoey straightened her shoulders, as if preparing for battle. But what—or who—was she fighting against? That’s what Matt couldn’t figure out.

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have a long drive home, you know.” He flashed an easy smile. “I live next door.”

Zoey didn’t respond to the gentle teasing. If anything, it looked as though she was tempted to bolt. Again.

Matt tried to trace the change in her mood to its source.

They had worked well enough together while preparing the pizza.

Some of the tension had eased from Zoey’s slim shoulders while they chopped up vegetables. But after Delia had left and Matt had given thanks for the meal, it was as if a wall had gone up between them.

Matt hadn’t attempted to draw her out during dinner, afraid that if he did, she would find a reason to excuse herself from the table. She seemed content to listen while he caught Liz up on some of the things happening at church during her stay at the hospital. For a woman who made her living performing on a stage, Zoey Decker certainly shied away from being the center of attention.

The truth was, Matt could have finished the dishes and been long gone already. But he’d lingered in the kitchen, hoping to have another opportunity to talk to Zoey.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so drawn to her. Especially when she seemed so uncomfortable around him.

That was another thing Matt couldn’t figure out. Sure, there were always a few people who fidgeted and stammered when they discovered a pastor in their midst, but for the most part he was able to put them at ease. To draw them out. One of his professors at the seminary had gone so far as to call it a gift.

Dr. Woods probably would’ve lowered Matt’s grade if he witnessed Zoey’s reaction to him.

He turned back to the sink and waited. A few seconds later, Zoey joined him there but maintained a careful distance. Not that it mattered. Even with a foot of space between them, every nerve ending in Matt’s body kicked into high alert.

Zoey picked up a towel and reached for one of the china plates in the dish drainer. “I think Gran must be the only person in Mirror Lake who doesn’t have a dishwasher.”

“She probably is.” Matt gave the soapy cloth in his hand a meaningful wave. “She claims that washing dishes by hand gives a person time to think.”

“She used to tell me the same thing when I was sixteen. I didn’t believe her then either.”

Sixteen.

Another piece of the puzzle that was Zoey. Matt realized that getting to know her was going to take time. And patience.

Somehow, he knew it would be worth the effort.

“Does Gran still hang the sheets outside on the line to dry?”

“Every Monday morning, April through October.” Matt’s heart contracted at the pensive look on Zoey’s face.

“I always wondered where Gran got all her energy,” she said. “Grandpa used to say that just watching her made him want to take a nap.”

“I know, she amazes me,” Matt agreed. “You are going to have quite a challenge convincing her to rest, you know.”

“I already figured that out.” Zoey’s lips curved into a smile. “She said that she needs something to do, so I told her that giving me orders definitely falls into that category.”

Matt laughed. “You are a wise woman, Zoey Decker.”

The smile faded.

“You don’t agree?” Seeing the shadow that skimmed across Zoey’s expressive face, Matt pushed a little, wondering where the question would take him.

She put the last plate back in the cupboard. “I think we’re done here.”

Matt inwardly winced.

Right into a brick wall, that’s where it had taken him.

“You’re working too hard.”

Oops.

Zoey glanced over her shoulder and saw her grandmother standing a few feet away, arms folded over her chest.

The last time Zoey had checked, Liz had fallen asleep on the sofa while watching one of her favorite afternoon programs. Zoey had hoped to finish mopping the floor in the front hallway before she woke up.

“I like to keep busy.” It was the truth. And it kept her thoughts from straying to her grandmother’s next-door neighbor.

Most of the time, anyway.

To her relief, Matt had left right after they’d finishing cleaning up the kitchen the night before. Unfortunately, his absence hadn’t prevented his smile from continuing to linger in her thoughts.

Throughout the night and right into the next day.

“What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?” Gran’s voice tugged Zoey back to the present.

“I thought I would put in a few loads of laundry and start supper. Straighten up the parlor before your friends arrive.” Zoey saw the tiny frown that appeared on Liz’s brow. “Unless you have something else you’d rather have me do?”

“I want you to take a walk,” Liz said. “You’ve been cooped up in the house with me all day.”

“I like being cooped up with you.” And taking a walk definitely increased the possibility of running into people Zoey remembered from the past.

People who remembered her.

Zoey wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

“That’s very sweet, Zoey, but I do admit to having an ulterior motive.”

Zoey grinned. “I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true.” Her grandmother’s eyes twinkled. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind running a quick errand for me while you were out.”

Zoey sucked in a breath. Released it slowly. This was the reason she had come back to Mirror Lake, she reminded herself. To help Gran out. “Of course not. What do you need?”

“I looked at the pattern Delia dropped off last night and I’ll need two more skeins of yarn for our next knitting project. I wouldn’t be in such a rush if the group wasn’t meeting here tonight.”

See what you got yourself into, Zoey? And you have no one to blame but yourself!

“Some of the girls order their yarn off the Internet now, but I always buy mine at the variety store,” Liz was saying. “It carries a good selection and I like to support the local businesses.”

The variety store. On Main Street.

“Sure.” Zoey forced a smile. “I can go as soon as I finish the floor, if you’d like.”

“Whatever works best for you, sweetheart.”

To get the errand over with as quickly as possible, that’s what worked best, Zoey thought. Before she could change her mind, she asked the question that she didn’t want to ask.

“Can you think of anything else you’d like me to do while I’m out and about?” If Gran needed a prescription refilled or cream for her morning coffee, Zoey preferred to accomplish everything in one trip.

Liz tipped her head. “Come to think of it, there is something else. Did I mention that I’ve been the choir director at Church of the Pines for the past few years?”

“No, you didn’t.” But Zoey wasn’t surprised—her grandmother had a beautiful voice. She remembered Liz singing praise songs as she worked around the house. Grandpa Jonathan would whistle along, enthusiastic but off-key.

“Every day is a celebration,” Liz would say. “You can always find a reason to praise God.”

On the outside, Zoey had rolled her eyes. What she hadn’t realized was that on the inside, the words had been planted like seeds in her soul, lying dormant until the right conditions caused them to sprout.

“Diana Riggs took over the choir while I was in the hospital, but she’s going out of town for the weekend. She knows I like to tie in the songs with Matthew’s sermon.” Zoey braced herself, knowing what was coming next. She knew, she just knew, that Gran’s second errand would somehow involve Matt. “She asked if I’d look over the music she selected for this Sunday’s service.”

“No problem.” Zoey tried to hide her relief. “Where does Diana live?”

“Oh, the music isn’t at her house. She left it at the church, along with Matthew’s sermon notes. Do you mind stopping by and picking them up?”

Yes.

“No,” Zoey said weakly. “Of course not.”

“Wonderful.” Gran’s response was much more enthusiastic.

“I’ll have a pot of tea ready by the time you get back.”

Fifteen minutes later, Zoey shrugged on her navy-blue pea coat and was on her way out the door. The temperature had slowly crept into the upper forties so she decided to take her grandmother’s advice and walk downtown instead of drive.

Mirror Lake hadn’t changed much from what she could see. Like many other small communities in the northern part of the state, it had flourished during the lumber era but gradually dwindled in size and population. But local pride ran as deep as the roots of the towering pine trees. The town’s turn-of-the-century charm had been preserved in the sturdy brick buildings that lined both sides of Main Street. Businesses catered more to locals than the tourists who kept to the main highways. The lake itself wasn’t large enough to appeal to people who wanted a vacation spot that offered more than beautiful sunsets and a quiet place to fish.

There were no fast-food restaurants. No shopping malls.

As a teenager, Zoey had thought it was the end of nowhere.

A mission school in Africa had seemed more appealing at the time, if her parents would have agreed to take her with them.

Zoey tried to shake the thought away, but it clung like a burr to her soul. It had been the final rejection. Her parents leaving her in Mirror Lake.

They’d claimed it was for the best, but Zoey knew the truth. The decision had been the best one for them. She’d disappointed them in so many ways, she didn’t blame them for not wanting to deal with her anymore.

Zoey had vowed to make them sorry for leaving her behind, but in the end she was the one who had been sorry.

The bell above the door of the variety store announced her arrival and brought a woman rushing out of the back room.

“Can I help you find something?” The smile was friendly. The face unfamiliar.

“I’m looking for the yarn.” Zoey’s hands fisted inside of her coat pockets.

“Second aisle, all the way down on your left. If you need help, just give me a holler.”

“Thank you.” Zoey quickly retreated as two more customers came in, stomping the slush from their shoes as they chatted.

She located the craft section and glanced at the length of yarn tied around her wrist in order to find its match on the shelf.

“Did you hear that Decker girl is back in town?”

Zoey froze as the two women who had come into the store made their way down the next aisle. She couldn’t see their faces, but their voices carried through the shelves that separated them.

“I can’t believe she’d even show her face in Mirror Lake again. Especially after what she did.”