Dropping her arms, Madge fought the lump forming in her throat. Not all that long ago she had been a part of a similar conversation with Erma’s granddaughter, Riley. Madge and the rest of the BBs, in addition to Harper, Anita, and Olivia, had rallied around Riley in a similar way after she discovered a long-buried family secret. Riley had burst into tears, also something Madge was close to doing. But the young woman had let her friends help. Madge needed to do the same.
She gave them all a shaky smile. “Anyone want coffee? It’s a long story.”
“You sit down,” Erma said. “We’ll make the coffee.”
Bea nodded. “And I’ll cut the pie.”
Madge swallowed, overcome by their kindness and loyalty. “Thank you. Thank you all.” She wasn’t alone after all.
Chapter12
Harper leaned back in the cloth camping chair, the autumn sun warming her face, one of Rusty’s fishing poles laying in the grass beside her. She closed her eyes, feeling the tension drain from her body.Bliss.
Thank goodness she hadn’t given in to her earlier impulse to call Rusty and cancel their fishing trip. On the way home from the garage last night, she’d realized she hadn’t told him about the Miles Road property being off the market. That put her into work mode again, and she went straight to her home office and stayed up past midnight searching for comparable properties for him to look at... and finding none. Since she couldn’t make listings appear out of thin air, she shifted her attention to business strategy. There was still a smidge of hope she could purchase #6, but only if a suitable property for Rusty became available in the near future or she suddenly had a boom of new clients. Both scenarios required a miracle.
When she woke up this morning, though, Rusty, not business, was on her mind. She marveled at how he’d quickly ascertained she was upset, something only her closest friends could do. She had known them for years, though. Rusty had figured her out in record time. If she canceled their trip, he might be concerned, and she didn’t want that. Besides, he’d taken the day off on her behalf, and she had given her word that she would show up. Bailing on him was not a good look. She also looked forward to having a little time off, even if fishing was involved.
A light breeze rustled the colorful leaves on the elm and oak trees surrounding the pond. The sun’s rays glistened off the gently rippling water as she stretched out her legs and glanced at the black leggings and tennis shoes she’d chosen to wear. She crossed her ankles and stuck her hands into the front pocket of her red Razorback sweatshirt. She’d even decided against putting on a full face of makeup, although she couldn’t resist a little mascara and lip gloss. No need to get too crazy.
She’d expected him to take her to one of the nearby lakes—Catherine, Hamilton, or even Ouachita, although that lake was farther away. Instead, they were at a large pond fifteen minutes outside Maple Falls, on a rustic road she hadn’t known existed.
What she also hadn’t expected was for him to insist they leave their cell phones at home. “I can’t do that,” she’d said, gaping at him like he’d left his brain at the garage.
“Sure you can. The world won’t crash and burn if you miss a phone call or two.”
“My career might,” she mumbled, but he was already walking to his truck. She sighed, then went back into the house and left the phone on the kitchen counter. When she got in the truck, she said, “Before we go, I need to tell you something.”
He raised one eyebrow before shifting the truck into Drive. “Is it work related?”
“Yes—”
“We’ll talk about it later.” He looked at her, his expression stern. “Whatever it is, it can wait.”
Now that she was fully relaxed—something she hadn’t thought possible lately—she was relieved not to talk about work. She didn’t even miss her cell phone. There was plenty of time to tell him about Miles Road. All she wanted was to enjoy her day off and not think about her parents or her business.
“Hey, Harper.”
She lolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. “Yes?”
“The fish are in the water, not on the grass.” He slowly turned the little handle on his fishing reel. That was the first thing he’d taught her when they arrived—the parts of the pole, then how to attach fake worms to a hook. She suspected the rubber bait was for her benefit.
“You need to put your pole in the pond if you’re going to catch anything,” he added.
“Oh, let’s leave them alone to do their fishy things,” she said.
He chuckled, then reeled in the rest of his line beforesetting his pole on the ground and sitting next to her. “Sorry the fish ain’t bitin’ today,” he said. “This is usually a dependable fishin’ hole.”
“I’m perfectly happy just sitting here.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I wasn’t excited about touching a slimy fish anyway.”
“They’re more scaly than slimy.”
“And that’s any better?”
He grinned, shaking his head. “Guess not.”
They both sat in comfortable silence for a while. After a few minutes, she opened one eye and glanced at him. He didn’t have his eyes closed, but he was leaning back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head, touching the back of hisRusty’sGarageball cap and looking as serene as she felt. “You were right,” she said.
“’Bout what?”
