Mary Ella burst through the door, headed straight for her and hugged her close.
“It’s so wonderful to see you here in the store, right where you belong. You must have been more than ready to come back.”
She smiled, resisting the childish urge to give her mother an “I told you so” look. “I was. Thank you.”
“Ruth, did you tell Claire you’re coming to help us out at the bookstore for a few weeks?”
“I did.”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Claire said.
“Ruth’s help will be a godsend. Otherwise, I’m afraid we would have to close the bookstore until Sage is done with school.” Mary Ella automatically sat down at the worktable and picked up the beads Ruth was working with and admired them under the light. “These will be gorgeous, Ruthie. Make me a pair, will you?”
“If you help,” Ruth said tartly. Mary Ella smiled and Claire felt a deep wave of gratitude for the other woman. She didn’t know how, but somehow Mary Ella had remained close to Ruth for years, despite her mother’s sometimes-toxic mood. Maybe it had something to do with raising five daughters and a wild son, but Mary Ella, better than anyone else Claire knew, could tease and cajole Ruth out of her most bitter moods.
“How are you?” Claire asked the other woman. “I mean, really.”
Mary Ella trickled the cup of seed beads through her fingers and into a tray like water droplets. “My heart hurts all the time,” she said after a long moment. “I keep thinking this has all been a mistake, you know? Someone somewhere made some terrible karmic error and any moment Layla will burst through my front door with that ridiculous purple hair and her fingers with all those rings flying away on her cell phone.”
Her voice hitched a little on the last word and Ruth reached a hand out and squeezed her friend’s fingers.
“We all wish that, more than anything.”
“The worst thing is, I feel like this dark cloud has descended on the whole town, affecting us all. Everyone just seems so sad. Even the Angel’s wings seem to have been clipped, have you noticed? I haven’t heard about a single visit since the accident.”
Claire thought of that night when Riley responded to her flickering porch lights. “I had a visit.”
The three women stared at her. “What!” her mother exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
That night when Riley had fallen asleep in her family room seemed such a precious memory, one that still seemed not quite real. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to savor it myself. Anyway, it wasn’t a big deal. He...the Angel left a basketful of magazines and books and other cheer-up treats on the front porch one night the weekend before last.”
“Did you see the Angel?” Evie asked, her eyes bright and intent, which made Claire wonder once more if her friend could be behind the mystery. Evie had arrived in Hope’s Crossing not long before the Angel first started appearing and even though she lived a low-key life, Claire had picked up a few clues here and there that Evie might be secretly affluent, someone who could afford the kind of generosity the Angel had displayed.
Besides, Evie certainly knew her reading preferences and her favorite kind of goodies from Sugar Rush.
She searched the other woman’s face for some hint that she might know more about the Angel of Hope than she let on but saw nothing more than curiosity.
“Just a shape in the darkness,” she finally said. “Not much more than that. Riley checked around the house and the yard for me and couldn’t find any clues.”
She probably shouldn’t have added that little detail, judging by the various reactions. Ruth’s mouth pursed as if she’d smelled something particularly foul. Mary Ella gave her a long, speculative look. Evie, drat her, looked as if she were barely hiding a smile.
“Riley?” Mary Ella said.
Claire cleared her throat. “Funny story. I saw a shape out there and thought it might be an intruder. I flicked my porch lights a couple of times to maybe scare him off or something. Riley happened to be passing by just then and stopped to make sure everything was okay.”
“Nice of him,” Evie murmured.
“Right. Um, well, he checked around the house and the yard for me and couldn’t find any clues.”
She decided not to mention that he’d fallen asleep or that when he’d awakened he said wholly inappropriate things to her she couldn’t stop thinking about. Or the subsequent times he’d dropped by and kissed her until she couldn’t remember her name.
Changing the subject right now would probably be a good idea. “You know, whoever it is,” she said quickly, “there’s something so magical about the whole thing, don’t you think? The mystery of an unexpected kindness. I’m glad I didn’t see who it was. I’m not really sure I want to know. Don’t you think something will be lost if we ever figure it out?”
Mary Ella nodded. “You know, I think you’re right.”