Virginia Smith - Murder at Eagle Summit

“I don’t know, Grandma,” she said, her gaze on the box. “Seems to me like it should wait until after the wedding. Don’t you think?”

“Not after the wedding, dear.” Grandma’s lipsticked mouth pursed. “But it’s true that my mother gave it to me on my wedding day, not before.” Her glare caught Liz’s gaze and held it. “Perhaps it is safer to wait until the day of the wedding. We don’t want to repeat the dreadful mistakes of the past.”

A rush of heat ran from the top of Liz’s head through her core. No, of course she didn’t want a repeat performance of what had happened to her and Tim. Still, if a mistake had been made, it could only be attributed to Grandma, the person who had jumped the gun in passing down the heirloom brooch. But Liz certainly wasn’t going to point that out.

“Liz?” Jazzy leaned forward in her chair, her face full of questions. “You’re giving away your pin? But you love that pin.”

Caitlin arrived in time to hear Jazzy’s question, and turned an inquiring gaze on Liz as she handed Jazzy a full coffee mug.

“Love it or not,” Grandma said, her voice unyielding, “it is not hers to keep. It belongs to Deborah now.”

“Not yet,” Debbie rushed to say. “Not until I’m married.” The smile she turned toward Liz held a touch of desperation. “It’s yours for another three days.”

Liz drew her hand back to her lap and curled her fingers protectively around the box. The silk felt cool and smooth to her touch.

“I don’t understand.” Caitlin dropped onto the third sofa cushion, on the other side of Grandma. “I thought that pin was an heirloom that’s been in your family for a long time.”

“Oh, it has.” Grandma sipped from her coffee before returning the mug to the sofa table. She settled back. “I have an oil painting of my grandmother wearing the brooch in 1885, when she first immigrated to this country from England. That would be Elizabeth and Deborah’s great-great-grandmother.”

“Wow.” Jazzy eyed the box in Liz’s hand. “So Liz got to keep it for a while, and now it goes to Debbie?”

Liz gritted her teeth. Here it came. She had been friends with these girls for three years, since she moved to Kentucky and joined the Lexington Community Church young adult group, but she’d never told them—or anyone else in Kentucky—about the shameful part of her past.

Grandma turned a highbrowed glare her way. “It would have stayed with Elizabeth if she had married that nice young man she was engaged to, like she was supposed to.”

“Engaged?” Caitlin’s blond eyebrows shot upward and disappeared beneath her bangs.

Liz squirmed under her friend’s openmouthed stare.

Jazzy looked as shocked as Caitlin. “You never told us you were engaged.”

Liz sank lower in the chair. A lame excuse came to mind: The subject never came up! But now was not the time, nor the place, to get into a big discussion about her past. She gave Jazzy an “I’d rather not talk about this right now” look.

But Grandma either didn’t see it or didn’t care. “Oh, yes. She was engaged to a fine young man she’d dated all the way through college, a local boy from a good family. His parents go to my church.” She frowned at Liz. “After Elizabeth broke his heart, I couldn’t look them in the eye for months.”

Liz opened her mouth to say that she didn’t break his heart, but she closed it again. The expression on Tim’s face that night still haunted her. To say she hadn’t broken his heart would be a lie.

“Liz was right to break off the engagement,” Debbie argued loyally. “Marriage is a serious step, a lifetime commitment. If she wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure, she did the right thing.”

Liz gave her a grateful look, but she could see the unspoken accusation hovering in her cousin’s eyes.

I know, I know. I could have handled it a lot better.

“That’s as it may be,” Grandma said, “but it doesn’t change the fact that the brooch is to pass to the first woman to marry in each generation of our family.” She closed her eyes briefly and inclined her head over her mug. “Perhaps I acted hastily in giving Elizabeth the brooch as an engagement present. Since I was blessed with two sons and no daughters, I was too eager to see the heirloom handed down. I never dreamed the outcome would be so…” Her lips tightened. “Disappointing.”

Time to change the subject. Liz dropped the box into her purse and straightened in her chair.

“I’ll hold on to it until Saturday, then,” she told Debbie. “So. What’s on the agenda for today?”

Judging from the expressions on Jazzy’s and Caitlin’s faces, the subject was far from closed. A third degree loomed on the horizon, but at least they were willing to delay the discussion.

Debbie, too, thank goodness. “We’ve got about a million appointments,” she said. “You are coming along with Grandma and me to visit the florist and the caterer, and I need to stop by the jewelry store sometime and pick up Ryan’s ring.” Her gaze shifted to Caitlin and Jazzy. “You two are welcome to come along with us today, if you like.”

“Actually, we thought we’d take advantage of the location and go skiing.” Caitlin grinned in Jazzy’s direction. “Jazzy has never skied, so she’s looking forward to giving it a try.”

Liz tried not to envy her friends their day on the slopes. That sure did sound a lot more fun than running around Park City with her surly grandmother.

A commotion behind them caused Debbie to turn, and her face lit up. “There’s Ryan! He and some of the guys are skiing today, too.” She set her mug down and leaped up from the couch.

Liz started to twist in her chair. She hadn’t seen her cousin’s fiancé since she left Utah three years before.

Debbie froze. Her eyes widened and she looked down at Liz. “Oh, look.” Her voice held a note of strain. “All Ryan’s groomsmen are with him.”

A sudden panic snatched the breath right out of Liz’s throat. All his groomsmen? Including the best man?

Tim followed the guys through the front entrance of the lodge, their thick ski suits shush, shush, shushing with every step. He hung toward the back of their small group, half-wishing he’d arranged to meet up with them later at the chairlift. But there was no sense in postponing the inevitable meeting. He was sure to run into Liz sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.

“There they are.” Ryan lifted a hand to wave at Debbie, then slowed to fall in step with Tim as they crossed the lobby. “Looks like Liz is here. You okay with that?”

No. Not by a long shot. But what choice do I have?

Tim forced a casual smile. “Sure. Water under the bridge.”

Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, dude.”

As they approached the group by the fireplace, Debbie launched herself into Ryan’s arms and greeted him with an enthusiastic kiss that belied the fact they saw each other several times a week. Tim watched their embrace with a sense of satisfaction. Ryan was his best friend, and one lucky guy. Every man deserved to have a woman who loved him like Debbie loved Ryan.

He ignored an un-Christian twinge of jealousy. Every man? Even him?

His gaze swept the group of women seated around the fire. A couple of strangers, Debbie’s grandmother and—

Pain punched him in the gut. His feet stopped moving.

Liz sat in a big padded chair, holding on to a coffee mug with both hands. She was staring into her cup, her head tilted forward, so he indulged in a moment looking her over, noting the changes three years had wrought. Her hair had grown long. As he watched, she smoothed it behind a delicate ear. She looked a bit thinner, her neck more slender and elegant. Ah, but that chiseled nose hadn’t changed, and neither had those soft lips he remembered so well.