Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
She blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
His dark green shirt brought out the green in his eyes. With his worn jeans, he appeared innocuous. Kind of. I couldn’t read him. “When you do, let me know. I’m staying at Mrs. Brannigan’s Bed and Breakfast,” he said.
Her brows lifted. “Are you now? How delightful. She’s particular about her guests.”
“Oh, really?” he asked mildly. “All I did was make a phone call.” Then he turned that full-strength smile on me.
I narrowed my gaze. Who exactly was this guy?
“I’ll be in touch.” He gracefully turned and exited, closing the door behind himself.
I stared at the door. “That wasn’t weird at all.”
Nana hummed. “His energy was pure charm.”
“It was something.” I turned and looked out the front window, seeing him near a silver truck, a phone to his ear. He caught my gaze and smiled.
No dimple this time.
Chapter 6
The Elks Lodge smelled like lemon cleaner, coffee, and time. I had so many good memories from the older brick building, which had been scrubbed so many times the varnish had surrendered decades ago. Sunlight slanted through tall, narrow windows, catching the wood-paneled walls that had aged from honey to amber to something resembling fine whiskey.
Long tables stretched across the hall, their metal legs scuffed from a thousand community dinners. Faded banners hung high, curling at the edges but still proud. Someone had polished the brass elk head over the fireplace until it gleamed, somehow untouched by dust.
I followed the sound of humming into the kitchen. It was spotless but worn. The stainless steel counters had lost their shine, and the old double ovens ticked softly as they cooled from Birdie’s morning baking.
She stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, hair twisted into a loose bun. Her lipstick was a pretty mauve, and her dress a light blue. “Good morning, Anna,” she said without turning. “How is your Nana holding up after the fire?”
“She’s fine, mostly irritated and really worried about the missing boxes.”
“That sounds right.” Birdie dried her hands and faced me. Wide-rimmed, round glasses covered half of her face, showing her faded blue eyes. “Did you want to see the refrigerator? I heard that Gloria sued Fiona.” She clucked and shook her head.
There were no secrets in Silverville. “Yeah. I need to get to the office and type up an Answer, but thought I’d check out the fridge first.”
She pointed toward the back wall. “That’s the one. I’ve got the only key now.”
The industrial fridge stood tall and solid, humming low. It looked like it could outlive us all. I crossed the tile and laid a hand on the heavy chrome handle. The lock shone, newer than the rest of it, and the seal looked tight, uncut.
“Has anyone been in here since the contest?” I asked.
“No one but me,” Birdie said. “I opened it this morning. Everything’s exactly how we left it.”
I crouched and checked the hinges, scanning the floor for scuffs or crumbs, looking for anything that didn’t fit. Nothing. Just cold air and metal. “I don’t see any scratches.” I turned to look at her. “Is there any chance someone has a spare key?”
She shrugged narrow shoulders. “Not that I’ve heard. Aiden asked the same question.”
I figured he’d been by earlier. “Did he see anything off?”
“No.” She wiped her hands on a towel. “He’s a handsome one, Anna. I know both of your grandmothers would like to see you married. After Tessa, of course.”
I barely kept from sighing. “So they said.” I studied Birdie. “Did you grow up in Silverville?” Sure, she’d always been around during my childhood, but that didn’t mean she came from the valley.
“Yes. My family moved here when I was in elementary school.” Her lips tipped up. “Not a lot has changed.”
I wasn’t sure about that. More and more people kept moving in, raising the property values and creating tax problems. “Did you know my grandmothers growing up?”
“Yes. Well, kind of. I was about five years older than them, but it’s a small town.” She pushed a strand of light gray hair over her shoulder. “Why do you ask?”
The words had never been said, but it felt like we’d all been ordered never to delve into why our grandmothers didn’t like each other. “I’m trying to figure out why Nonna and Nana have never been close.”
Both of Birdie’s eyebrows rose. “What are you talking about?”
Crap. So she didn’t know. Did anybody outside of the family know that the two weren’t the best of friends? “I’m not sure.” That was a lame response.
Birdie waved a hand. “Oh, there’s always been a good-natured rivalry between the Italians and the Irish here in town. You’re probably sensitive to that, considering you’re half of each.”
I nodded vigorously, feeling like I’d almost let out a family secret. “That makes sense.”
The door to the kitchen swung open, letting in a gust of cool, rain-soaked air that smelled faintly of espresso and expensive perfume.