Dangerous Alterations (10 page)

“Then why the worry?” Margaret Louise asked.

“Because he was angry,” she whispered. “So very, very angry.”

“At you?”

“He turned it toward Jeff, but I have to wonder if it was really aimed at me. I mean, think about it, my former fiancé comes into town while he’s gone and suddenly I don’t call for a few days?” A lump of guilt formed in her throat. “Not exactly the kind of thing you want to see from the woman you’ve asked to marry you.”

She felt Margaret Louise’s arm slip across her shoulders. “We’re talkin’ ’bout Milo Wentworth, Victoria.
Any
anger exhibited from that man would seem like a lot.”

“There was no
seem
about it. He was furious.”

“He was probably just bein’ protective is all. Men do that, you know.” Margaret Louise looked down at her watch, then stood. “We better be headin’ back to the car. I don’t want everyone arrivin’ at the cabin before we do.”

And just like that, any residual tension weighing on Tori’s shoulders dissipated. In its place was pure, unadulterated anticipation.

Pushing off the rock, she hurried to catch up with her friend. “Everyone’s still coming?”

“Everyone’s still comin’,” Margaret Louise echoed between huffs and puffs as they made their way up the very path they’d descended thirty minutes earlier. “Everyone’cept Dixie, of course.”

She trudged ahead of Margaret Louise, careful to point out any discrepancies in the trail that might pose a tripping hazard. “I’m trying not to worry about being so far away from the library this weekend but it’s hard.”

“You’ve left Nina in charge, haven’t you?”

“But we’re talking about Dixie, here.”

Margaret Louise snorted. “You mean the woman who ran the library for four decades before you took over?”

She rushed to explain as they reached the side of the road and Margaret Louise resumed the lead. “It’s not that I don’t think she’s capable … because I—I do. It’s just that, well, she was talking about making those changes the other day and I guess it has me a little nervous.”

“So she moves a few chairs and rearranges a few shelves. You can always change it back when you return, right?”

“I guess …”

Margaret Louise yanked open her car door and sat down, swiveling to the left just long enough to grab her seat belt and snap it into place. Tori did the same.

“So what’s there to worry ’bout?” Margaret Louise asked as she slammed her foot down on the gas and peeled out of the gravel turnoff. “It’s not like she’s gonna burn the place to the ground while we’re gone.”

All her life, Tori had pictured cabins as simple wooden structures tucked away in the woods, housing groups of men intent on hunting, fishing, and various other outdoor pursuits.

These cabins—as she imagined them—had little more than a tattered and lumpy couch, a mini-refrigerator in the so-called kitchen, and a fire pit out front for cooking whatever food had been caught earlier in the day. An outhouse, similar to the ones she remembered from Girl Scout camp, would be nestled among the trees out back.

How wrong she was.

Each room of the four-bedroom cabin was nicer than the one before, the log walls and wood floors gleaming with a rustic charm befitting one of Leona’s travel magazines. The family room alone was worthy of gaping mouths thanks to its vaulted ceiling, stone fireplace, and hand-hooked rugs. Scattered around the room was a series of seating options that ranged from the coziest couch Tori had ever seen to rocking chairs and recliners.

“Oh my, isn’t this just the prettiest place you’ve ever seen?” Georgina dropped her suitcase at her feet and pulled her trademark straw hat from her head. “Why, I thought that lovely little brook that meandered along the driveway was something special, and now this?”

“Can’t you just imagine a fire blazing away in that fireplace?” Debbie added, a look of wonder on her face.

“Not in this heat, I can’t,” Margaret Louise replied. “Fortunately, the man I rented this place from said the air conditioner runs like a champ so we’ll be good.”

“We can’t keep it too cold.” Beatrice stepped cautiously through the room and lowered herself to the edge of one of the rockers. “Rose won’t like that.”

Margaret Louise opened a door in the far corner of the room and pulled out a pile of colorful afghans. “Which is exactly why I requested a few blankets.”

“You thought of everything,” Tori mused.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Margaret Louise returned the blankets to the closet and shut the door. “Just wait until we have dinner tonight.”

“I can hardly wait,” said Georgina. “I’ve been so busy with meetings the past few weeks I can’t tell you the last time I had a home-cooked meal.”

Tori smiled at the mayor. “I’ve been cooking and I’m still looking forward to Margaret Louise’s concoctions.”

“Between the eight of us, maybe we can get Rose to eat more than a mouthful.” Beatrice lowered her already quiet voice to a near whisper. “She has me worried.”

She laid a hand on the young woman’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We’re all a little worried, Beatrice. But the treatment she had last week should help with the flare-up of her arthritis for a while.”

“We can hope.” Georgina lifted her suitcase once again. “Margaret Louise? Where should I put this?”

Margaret Louise gestured for Georgina, Beatrice, Debbie, and Tori to follow as she led the way into the first of the four bedrooms. “Georgina, I have you in here with Beatrice. Does that work?”

Georgina smiled at Beatrice. “It’s perfect.”

Beatrice agreed.

Waving at Tori and Debbie, Margaret Louise stepped back into the hall and led the way to the second bedroom. “Debbie, I thought that, perhaps, you and Melissa would enjoy this room.”

Debbie nodded and looked at her watch. “When is she expected to be here?”

“Any minute now. She’s bringing Rose and Leona.”

Margaret Louise turned to Tori and gestured toward the third doorway off the hall. “Tori, I was kind of hoping you’d be okay rooming with Rose for the weekend. Just being around you seems to give her a lift.”

“As it does for me as well.” And it was true. The prickly older woman had become a real treasure in Tori’s life, reminding her, at times, of her own late great grandmother—a woman she missed terribly.

“Perfect. Leona and I will be in the room down the hall.”

Tori couldn’t help but laugh. “You sure that’s going to be okay?”

“We shared a womb for nine months, we can certainly share a room for two nights.” Margaret Louise spun on her soft gray Keds, leaving Tori alone in the room she’d soon share with Rose.

Running her hands along the maple dresser and dual headboards, she couldn’t help but feel the excitement for their weekend building to an all-time high. There were simply no other women on the face of the earth she would rather spend the weekend with than these women. Each and every one of them had brought something special to her life in the nearly two years she’d known them.

Georgina Hayes had taught her about courage and strength in the wake of the murder of Sweet Briar resident, Tiffany Ann Gilbert. Despite the effects of the crime on her own life, the small-town mayor had kept her head held high.

Beatrice Tharrington was sweet—the kind of sweet that made Tori want to be a better person. Rarely, if ever, had she heard an unkind word about anyone or anything out of the British nanny’s mouth.

Debbie Calhoun was the epitome of someone who had it all and had worked hard to make it happen. Her lifelong dream of opening her own bakery had not only come true but had become Sweet Briar’s favorite “it” place, serving up decadent treats all day long. Yet she hadn’t let the achievement of that dream get in the way of an even bigger one—to be the best wife and mother she could possibly be. Another dream she’d hit out of the ballpark if the smiles on the faces of her husband and children were any indication.

Melissa Davis, Margaret Louise’s daughter-in-law, was the kind of mom everyone wished they had. She was fun, encouraging, supportive, and beautiful inside and out. When and if Tori became a mother one day, she wanted to be exactly like Melissa.

Leona Elkin had been by Tori’s side since her first day in Sweet Briar, teaching her the ways of the south. Any detours Leona had taken along the path of their friendship had been short-lived. And despite her overbearing tactics and over-the-top nosiness, Leona would do anything for Tori.

Margaret Louise Davis was Margaret Louise Davis—open, loyal, kind, generous, funny, and truly one-of-a-kind. The woman was, without a doubt, the reason Sweet Briar had gone from merely a place to live to Tori’s true home.

And then there was Rose. Despite getting off to a semi-rocky start at the onset of their relationship, Rose had grown to be one of Tori’s dearest and most loyal friends. Her take-charge attitude and vast knowledge of everything under the sun were to be envied, while her surprisingly gentle heart was to be cherished.

In short, Tori’s life was richer for having moved to Sweet Briar. And the thought of spending two whole days surrounded by her friends was exactly the pick-me-up she needed.

“Hello? Anyone here?” Melissa’s voice, happy and almost song-like, echoed against the walls of the cabin.

Tori stepped out of her room and joined the others in the family room to greet the last of the group to arrive. Melissa stood just inside the entry way to the kitchen, one arm casually linked through Rose’s, the other wrapped around a sleeping Molly Sue. Behind them, stood Leona.

“I told you, Twin, pets aren’t allowed,” Margaret Louise said, pointing to a bow-tied Paris in her sister’s arms.

“Paris isn’t a pet. He’s part of the circle.”

Rose snorted.

“He is?”

Leona shot a look at Georgina. “He most certainly is.”

“I guess it goes to show they’re right—old people really
do
lose their minds, don’t they?” Rose grumbled before extricating herself from Melissa’s grasp and heading for the rocking chair beside the fireplace.

Paris’s ears shot straight up as Leona stamped her foot. “Are you calling me old, Rose?”

“If the shoe fits.” Rose lowered herself to the chair then pulled the flaps of her cotton sweater close against her body. “Did anyone see the flower garden at the end of the driveway? It’s beautiful.”

Tori felt the smile as it spread from one side of her face to the other. “I’d like to if you’re up for a walk later.”

“Of course I’ll be up for a walk. What do you think I am? An invalid?”

“That’s not what
I’d
call you,” Leona said before resuming her self-imposed sulkathon.

“Oh shut up, Leona.” Rose pushed her foot against the wood floor and began to rock, her large eyes taking in their surroundings. “You’ve done good, Margaret Louise. Real good.”

Heads nodded around the room.

Margaret Louise beamed.

“It’s a shame Dixie can’t join us.”

Rose held up a frail hand. “Melissa, trust me, Dixie is exactly where she wants to be right now. She’s more excited than I’ve seen her in years. And it’s all because of Tori here.”

Tori met Margaret Louise’s eyes, saw the twitch at the corner of the woman’s mouth. “Technically it’s because of Nina.”

“How is she feeling?” Melissa asked, expertly shifting her one-year-old from one shoulder to the other without so much as earning a blink from the still-sleeping little girl.

“Ready to have her baby, that’s for sure. Duwayne is waiting on her hand and foot. And I’m counting the days until she comes back. The library just isn’t the same without her.”

“How are
you
feeling, Victoria?” Rose stilled her foot long enough to cough and then resumed the easy pace she’d found.

Tori waved her hand. “I’m okay. Really.”

Debbie shook her head. “I still can’t believe your ex-fiancé is dead. You just don’t expect to hear of a thirty-two-year-old man who works out for a living dying of a heart attack.”

Feeling the calm of her surroundings beginning to erode, Tori rushed to change the subject back to safer topics.

“So what sort of culinary treat do you have planned for us tonight, Margaret Louise? Anything I can help with?”

Margaret Louise squared her shoulders. “As to your first question, you’ll see when it’s on the table. And as for your second question, no. I just want everyone to unpack and relax. We’ve got a long night of sewin’ and gossipin’ ahead of us.”

And with that, six bodies went off in six different directions—Margaret Louise toward the kitchen, Melissa and the baby back out to the car, Beatrice toward the restroom, and everyone else to find their assigned bedrooms.

When they were gone, Rose cleared her throat and looked up at Tori. “How about that walk now?”

She studied her friend. “Are you sure you’re up for it? You had a long drive.”

“I’m fine,” Rose snapped. “Just help me up, will you?”

Tori reached forward and gently helped Rose to her feet. Once the woman was steady enough, they walked through the kitchen, amid Margaret Louise’s protests, and stepped outside in time to see a hummingbird dash across the yard.

“Oh how they love foxglove,” Rose mumbled, shuffling down the stairs beside Tori. “Almost makes me want to grow some myself.”

“Why don’t you?”

“It’s too late for this season, they’re already flowering. But now that Lynn has told me about them, I plan to add them next year.” Rose stepped carefully onto the gravel driveway and fairly tugged Tori toward the garden. “They used to just be a purple pink color but now, thanks to cross hybridization, they come in other colors, too. At least that’s what she told me.”

Slowly, they made their way down the driveway to the flower garden at the end. Fragrant climbing plants, old-fashioned roses, and hollyhocks completed the garden.

“It’s beautiful, Rose. I can see why it caught your eye.”