Page 91 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

Chapter Forty-Nine

All dead but one.

The thought whirled around and around in Molly’s brain as she stared into the crackling fire Brec had made in Miss Lilly’s great room. Arms braced to her waist, she stood in front of the stone fireplace and shivered despite the blaze of flames that licked and devoured the seasoned wood. Just like suspicion licked and devoured her thoughts. Six Lads of Lake Loon.

All dead but one.

Dread swarmed in her stomach like a nest of scorpions at the prospect of Pastor Dave being involved in any way.

Lies.

Blackmail.

Murder?

Her eyelids drifted closed as worry slithered her spine.

Or the next victim?

“Molly …” Miss Lilly’s voice was gentle as it coaxed Molly back to the sofa. The sweet old woman was knitting and watching a movie, Molly knew, to keep her hands and thoughts busy. “Come sit down, sweetheart. Sloan said he would call when he had more information.”

“Molly.” Patting the seat next to him on the sofa, Brec beckoned as quietly as Miss Lilly, a tenderness in his tone that more and more was becoming a mainstay. “George Bailey’s problems will help put yours in perspective, lass,” he said with a touch of tease as he nodded toward the TV screen, where It’s a Wonderful Life was playing out in black and white.

Black and white.

She bit back a grunt. If only the mystery of Emerald Cottage were as clear.

“Okay.” Trudging over to the sofa, she plopped down between Brec and Miss Lilly. A smile twitched on her lips as Miss Lilly slipped a comforting arm around Molly’s waist while Brec hooked a casual arm over her shoulder, both telling her loud and clear that she mattered to them.

Against her will, moisture stung at the back of her lids because heaven knows they mattered to her too—a lot! Without question, they had become a second family. A second family whom she’d just introduced to her “first family” for the first time last night on Thanksgiving, for an evening dinner at Molly’s parents’ house.

“Do you plan to stay in Georgia, Brec?” Molly’s mother had asked, her tone nonchalant as she’d passed the sweet potato casserole with a kind smile. But Molly knew better.

As did her two sisters, both in town for the holiday. Molly’s twenty-one-year-old sister Sophie shook her head, lips curving in a knowing smile while her older sister Jess—ever the sensible one at two year’s Molly’s senior—sent their mother a patient look. “Mother, Brec has a life and a career in Dublin.”

“I know, sweetheart, but things change,” their mother said in an innocent tone that didn’t pass muster. With a heart and good intentions as big as Savannah, Rosemary Stewart was a notorious matchmaker in the Stewart family. Her boundless efforts began with her three daughters—who fought her every step of the way—right on down through cousins and neighbors. “You never know—Brec may decide to move closer to his Aunt Lilly, right, Brec?”

Molly bit back a grunt. Yeah, right. “Closer to my daughter” was more like it, but studying her mother now, Molly honestly couldn’t blame her. Her parents had the most romantic relationship she’d ever seen in a couple married forty-five years. A petite five foot three to her husband’s six foot one, her mom passed the mashed potatoes off to her dad with what Molly and her sisters had long ago termed as “goo-goo-eyes.” In actuality, it was a secret smile that said “I love you” as effectively as any words.

From her parents’ tender smiles, it was clear they adored each other, drawing groans from their daughters whenever they kissed—which was a lot!—acting more like teenagers than middle-aged marrieds. There was a time when her parents overt affection—sarcastically dubbed “geezer sex” by her youngest sister at the age of thirteen—had annoyed both Molly and her sisters. But as they all grew older, they’d soon realized the very thing they’d mocked was exactly what they all wanted someday, God willing.

God willing? Molly snuck a sideways peek at Brec as she spooned stuffing onto her plate, wondering if falling for Brec could be God’s will for her. She’d certainly prayed about it enough, but deep down, she hadn’t been given God’s green light, no matter how strong her feelings.

“Actually, I haven’t decided on that yet, Mrs. Stewart,” Brec answered carefully, avoiding her mother’s probing blue eyes to offer Jess a grateful look. Probably because he knew her mother had Googled him ad nauseam. He passed Molly the cranberries with a secret wink before offering their mother a polite smile, obviously reluctant to go anywhere near the “scandal.” “But as wonderful as these last six months with Aunt Lilly and Molly have been, one never knows.”

“Oh, I sure hope so,” Sophie said with a wicked grin, wiggling her brows at Molly for full effect, “because then Mom can focus on you and Molly, giving Jess and me a break.”

“I’ll give you a break,” Molly muttered under her breath, cheeks steaming more than the stupid broccoli. She was tempted to finger-shoot food at her younger sister like she used to, mortified that Sophie appeared to have inherited their mother’s knack for embarrassing comments.

Brec’s husky chuckle only added fuel to the fire when he pinched her leg under the table, reminding her that her overly intuitive mother was right again, hot on the scent of a potential relationship if Molly would only say “yes.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Molly returned to the present to settle back against the sofa surrounded by two people she’d come to love and care for over the last year, well aware she could only say “yes” if God said “yes.” She peeked up at the ceiling with a faint twist of a smile.

Hear that, God? I’m waiting …

Brrrrrrrring!

At the sound of Miss Lilly’s land line, Molly jerked up on the sofa like a marionette, arms flying into the air while Brec squeezed her shoulder with a chuckle. “Settle down, lass, it’s only the phone.”