Mary playfully slapped his hand. “I’ve got apple pie for dessert, so don’t go filling yourselves up on my buttermilk biscuits.” Her good humor was evident as she surveyed the table, glancing at everyone’s plate, then bustled back to the kitchen.
Rorie did her best to sample a little of everything. Although the meal was delicious, she was too excited to do anything as mundane as eat.
After dinner, Skip made himself scarce. Mary delivered a tray with two coffee cups to the living room, where Clay and Rorie sat close together on the couch. “You two have lots to talk about, so you might as well drink this while you’re doing it.”
“Thank you, Mary,” Clay said, exchanging a smile with Rorie.
The older woman set the tray down, then patted the fine gray hair at the sides of her head. “I want you to know how pleased I am for you both. Have you set the date yet?”
“We’re talking about that now,” Clay answered. “We’re going to call Rorie’s family in Arizona this evening and discuss it with them.”
Mary nodded. “She’s not the woman I would’ve chosen for you, her being a city girl and all, but she’ll make you happy.”
Clay’s hand clasped Rorie’s. “I know.”
“She’s got a generous soul.” The housekeeper looked at Rorie and her gaze softened. “Fill this house with children—and with love. It’s been quiet far too long.”
The phone rang in the kitchen and, with a regretful glance over her shoulder, Mary hurried to answer it. A moment later, she stuck her head around the kitchen door.
“It’s for you, Clay. Long distance.”
Clay’s grimace was apologetic. “I’d better get it.”
“You don’t need to worry that I’ll leave,” Rorie said with a laugh. “You’re stuck with me for a lot of years, Clay Franklin.”
He kissed her before he stood up, then headed toward the kitchen. Rorie sighed and leaned back, cradling her mug. By chance, her gaze fell on the photograph of Clay’s parents, which rested on top of the piano. Once more, Rorie felt the pull of his mother’s eyes. She smiled now, understanding so many things. The day she’d planned to leave Elk Run, this same photograph had captured her attention. The moment she’d walked into this house, Rorie had belonged to Clay and he to her. Somehow, looking at his mother’s picture, she’d sensed that. She belonged to this home and this family.
Clay returned a few minutes later, with Blue trailing him. “Just a call from the owner of one of the horses I board,” he said, as he sat down beside Rorie and placed his arm around her shoulders. His eyes followed hers to the photo. “Mom would have liked you.”
Rorie sipped her coffee and smiled. “I know I would have loved her.” Setting her cup aside, she reached up and threw both arms around Clay’s neck. Gazing into his eyes, she brought his mouth down to hers.
Perhaps it was her imagination or an optical illusion—in fact, Rorie was sure of it. But she could have sworn the elegant woman in the photograph smiled.
*
BLACKBERRY SUMMER
RaeAnne Thayne
Also available from RaeAnne Thayne
and HQN Books
Snow Angel Cove
Wild Iris Ridge
Christmas in Snowflake Canyon
Willowleaf Lane
Currant Creek Valley
Sweet Laurel Falls
Woodrose Mountain
Blackberry Summer
Look for her next book
Evergreen Springs
As always, to my wonderful husband and children, who fill my life with laughter and love. Special thanks to Nicole Jordan for a hundred different things, but mostly for believing in me.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Excerpt from Evergreen Springs by RaeAnne Thayne
One
“We are each of us angels with one wing. And we can only fly embracing each other.”
—Luciano de Crescenzo
Lousy, stupid horoscope.
Claire Bradford stood with one hand on the doorway and the other clutching her coffee go-cup as she stared at the chaotic mess inside her store.
According to the stars—at least according to the horoscope in the Hope Gazette she’d scanned while standing in line at her friend Maura’s coffee shop for her morning buzz after dropping the kids off at school—she was supposed to prepare herself for something fun and exciting headed her way today. She had been thinking more along the lines of a few dozen new customers at her bead store or maybe a big commission on one of her more intricate custom pieces.