Blackberry Winter. Cheryl Reavis

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Blackberry Winter - Cheryl  Reavis Mills & Boon Silhouette

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but a stray-away.

      She had only just heard the quaint expression while she’d been waiting in the checkout line at the little discount store where she’d bought her impromptu travel wardrobe. Two old women in sweatpants had been talking about someone’s granddaughter, one who apparently frequented places where she had no business being. And it wasn’t that the girl “hadn’t been raised” and didn’t know better, they had assured each other. It was that she apparently was just like Maddie. She knew better—but she did it anyway.

      She parked the SUV behind Meyer’s truck and got out. The church door was standing ajar, and she walked in that direction. The sconce lights were on in the alcove behind the altar, but Loran didn’t see anyone around at first. She entered quietly and walked down the carpeted aisle toward the front, noting immediately that the place smelled like a church, even though she would have been hard-pressed to say exactly why she thought so. It was a kind of mixture of things, she supposed—mildewed hymnals and candle wax and furniture polish or something. There were candles on the altar table, but they didn’t look real to her.

      She turned her head at a small repetitive sound—a woman vigorously rubbing the back of one of the pews with a folded cloth. A stack of hymnals sat on the floor at the end of the row.

      “Excuse me,” Loran said, startling the woman so much that they both jumped. “I’m looking for…Meyer?”

      “Well, he ain’t in here,” the woman said shortly. “And you ain’t supposed to be in here, either.”

      “Really? I thought it was all right to come into a church—especially when the doors are standing open.” She hadn’t intended to sound so confrontational, but it had been that kind of day.

      “Strangers don’t belong in here unless they’ve been invited,” the woman said bluntly. “And I told you Meyer ain’t in the church.”

      “Did you happen to see him around anywhere?”

      “I’ve got better things to do than keep up with Meyer Conley,” the woman said, going back to her pew polishing.

      “Oh. Well. Thank you so much for your help,” Loran said. “Such as it was.”

      “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t go getting mixed up with that Conley boy,” the woman called after her. “All them Conleys is liars.”

      Loran gave her a look and went back outside—and she immediately saw Meyer and her mother in the cemetery across the road. She had to wait for a car to go by before she could catch up with them. The person on the passenger side waved, and Loran waved back, wondering if she’d been mistaken for someone else. Or maybe people here either waved at you or threw you out of their houses of worship.

      Or gave you advice about who not to get “mixed up” with.

      She walked quickly toward where Maddie and her accomplice stood, fighting the gusts of wind as she went.

      Meyer and Maddie were deep in conversation about something. Neither of them saw her until the last moment.

      “I don’t know if he will,” Meyer was saying. They both looked startled to find her so close.

      “Hello, Mother. Silly me, I thought you would be resting,” Loran said in spite of her inclination—feeble though it was—to at least try to be reasonable. But at the moment, it was impossible to be reasonable where Maddie was concerned, not when she’d suddenly developed this penchant for not staying where she was supposed to be.

      “Yes, Mrs. Jenkins told me that was my assignment,” Maddie said.

      “So what are you doing out here? What’s going on?” Loran asked.

      The remaining edge of the sun slid behind the mountain ridge. Loran could barely distinguish the features on her mother’s face. She could only suspect the degree of evasiveness there, which was every bit as aggravating as actually seeing it.

      “Oh, not much,” Maddie said easily.

      “Well, thank heavens for that,” she said, falling back on sarcasm to try to hide the tremor in her voice. “I’d hate to be doing all this worrying for a reason.”

      She wanted to just let it go, but her being here in the first place was all Maddie’s idea and now she seemed so…devious.

      “This just isn’t your day,” Meyer said to Maddie.

      “I’ve had worse,” she said.

      “Yeah, I hear that,” he answered, their unexpected camaraderie causing Loran to have to fight a sudden and ridiculous urge to cry—when she’d done enough crying for one day.

      She wondered if Meyer had told Maddie that he’d had to bribe her out of weeping on the gazebo steps with a piece of candy.

      “Okay, what am I missing?” she asked, looking from one of them to the other.

      “Nothing,” Maddie said. “I’m ready to go if you are. Meyer, thank you for your trouble and your time. I appreciate both.”

      “You’re welcome. Anytime,” he said, but he made no attempt to leave. Loran could feel him looking at her, and, after a brief moment, she looked back. He seemed…not worried exactly, but still concerned somehow, just as she was. She had the sudden impression that she and Meyer were both in a situation they didn’t quite understand.

      She glanced at her mother, then at the child’s grave the three of them seemed to be standing around—or at least she assumed it belonged to a child, because of the lamb resting on the top of the headstone.

      Her mother abruptly began to walk away.

      “Ms. Kimball?” Meyer called after her and she turned to look at him. She turned, but she didn’t want to. Loran could feel her wariness more than see it.

      “There’s an eating place on Highway 16, just before you get to the Parkway,” Meyer said. “The food’s good. You just take this road as far as you can, then turn right. It’s on the left, before you get to the Parkway bridge. Best apple pie in the world,” he added, as if he thought it would matter.

      “Thanks,” Maddie said. “Maybe we’ll try it.” She walked on.

      “Are you done with the flashlight?”

      “Oh. Yes. Thank you.”

      Loran watched as her mother returned it, still trying to understand. She was rapidly losing hope that Maddie would be answering any of the questions she’d been formulating all the way down the Blue Ridge Parkway. Aside from her normal policy regarding inquiries, it was obvious that Maddie didn’t feel up to being interrogated—or anything else for that matter.

      “Don’t take my mother off anywhere again,” she said to Meyer under her breath as she walked by him.

      “Do what?” he said, clearly surprised.

      “You heard me,” she said without stopping. She ran the few steps it took to catch up with Maddie.

      “Did you find everything you needed to buy?” Maddie asked lightly.

      “Yes.”

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