RaeAnne Thayne - Raeanne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One - Blackberry Summer

After a few months, many of those who came to the Bead Babes meetings started talking about how their arthritis symptoms seemed less severe while they were beading, with increased dexterity and less pain.

With that in mind—and not without a great deal of regret—Claire decided to turn the Bead Babes group over to Evie when she came to town from Southern California a year ago. Her credentials as a physical therapist made it a logical choice.

“What about next month?” Claire asked.

Evie looked suddenly secretive. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“You can’t quit,” Claire said instantly. “I don’t care. I won’t let you. I know there’s no such thing as indentured servitude anymore, but I’ll figure out a way to make it legal again.”

Evie laughed. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere. Well, not taking a new job anyway. You know I love it here. But I’ve been kicking around the idea of going out on the summer craft show circuit. So many of our customers who bead have had their lives tangled up in the poor economy. I was thinking I could take their work out on consignment across Colorado. Charge a nominal fee to them, mainly to cover the booth costs. It’s sort of a win-win for String Fever because the beaders will buy their supplies from us, plus we can advertise at the craft fairs at the same time.”

“Evie, that’s brilliant!” Her mind raced with possible beaders who might be in need of a little extra income. Unfortunately, with the high taxes and cost of living in Hope’s Crossing, that list was longer than it should have been.

“I love this idea. Which shows were you thinking?”

“Well, because you asked,” she smiled. “I made a list.” With her usual efficiency, she pulled out a folder next to the cash register and extracted a piece of paper. “This was just a listing of all the fairs within a two-hundred-mile radius.”

“Wow! So many. I had no idea.”

“Yes, I was thinking I would start with…”

Whatever she intended to say was cut off by the melodic chimes on the door, heralding a new arrival. Chester looked up with interest, then dropped his head again when he spied Ruth.

“Hi, Mom,” Claire said.

“Oh, thank the good Lord. You’re here.”

Her heart gave a sharp kick at the urgent note in her mother’s voice and her cast nearly slid off the ottoman as she straightened in the easy chair.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Is it the kids? Did the school call you?”

Ruth’s brow furrowed. “The school? No. Why on earth would they call me?”

She ordered her breathing to slow, her shoulders to relax, the visions of mortally ill children to clear. “I don’t know. You just sounded so frantic when you came in. I assumed something was wrong with the kids.”

“Of course I was frantic. I’ve been worried sick about you! I went to your house and you weren’t there and I called your cell phone and you didn’t answer. I thought maybe you’d had to go to the hospital or something. I’m so glad I decided to check here first.”

“I’m sure if Claire had to go to the hospital, you would be the first one she called,” Evie said in her quiet, calm voice.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Ruth muttered.

Claire wasn’t so certain, either, but she decided this might not be the best time to mention that.

“I must have turned off the ringer on my phone. I’m sorry.” She pulled it out of her purse on the floor beside her and saw she had, indeed, missed six—count ’em six—calls from her mother.

“I never dreamed you were back at work. What are you doing here anyway?” Her mother went on. “You’re not at all ready to come back to work!”

Claire swallowed her sigh. “Mom, it’s been three weeks since the accident. Dr. Murray cleared me last week and even Jeff said there’s no reason I can’t return to work, as long as I take it easy.”

“Which, for you, is easier said than done. You nearly died. I would say that warrants more than a few days away from work.”

Three weeks did not a few days make—and while the accident had certainly been scary and she wasn’t at all eager to repeat the experience, her mother’s assessment was a bit of a stretch.

“I’m feeling much better now. I was more than ready to come back.”

“You’re going to be sorry. You watch. You’re going to overdo and then you’ll pay the price. You always think you can handle more than you should.”

Since when? In Claire’s view, the opposite was probably more accurate. She always feared she would crack apart under the strain of all she had to do, but somehow, despite the odds, she always managed to get through.

“I have been easing into the work, Mom. I promise. I’m hardly doing anything, just ask Evie.”

“True enough, Ruth,” her friend said helpfully. “She’s been sitting on her lazy butt all morning, just giving orders like the bossy britches she is.”

Ruth looked between the two of them as if she wasn’t quite sure whether to defend her daughter’s work ethic or applaud her good sense.

Claire took pity on her mother’s indecision. “Why were you looking for me? Did you need something?”

Ruth fussed at a clear plastic display of business cards on the table in a way that seemed completely unlike her. “Oh, you know. Just checking on you.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” Claire pressed.

Ruth picked up the bolo tie and rubbed a finger across the stone, avoiding Claire’s gaze. “Well, the truth is, I need to ask your opinion about something.”

She seemed reluctant to elaborate and Evie, brilliant and insightful friend that she was, stepped away from the counter. “I’m going to run up to check on my dog. Ruth, will you excuse me?”

“Bring him down with you,” Claire said.

When she was gone, Claire turned to her mother again. “Mom, is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Not exactly. I just wondered how you would feel if I took a temporary job.”

Claire gaped at her. “A job.”

“A temporary one. Mary Ella talked to me about it this morning. But I should just say no, especially while you and the children need me so much right now for rides and the like.”

“I’ve certainly been grateful for your help, but I can make other arrangements. What sort of job?”

“Helping at the bookstore. You know Sage has gone back to college for her exams and Mary Ella’s been running Dog-Eared by herself until Maura has a little more time to sort things out. Angie helps when she can, but she’s busy with those kids of hers and of course Alex has the restaurant.”

“I think that’s a terrific idea!” Claire smiled. “You love to read. You would really excel in that environment.”

“I thought about opening a bookstore myself when I was younger.”

She stared. This was the first she’d ever heard that. “Really?”

Ruth shrugged. “I got married instead and then you came along. I wouldn’t want to do it all the time, but it should be fun for a few weeks and if it helps Maura, then it’s worth it. As long as you’re sure you and the children can manage without me.”

“While I appreciate all you’ve done for us, we’ll make do,” she assured her mother, still rather numb. Ruth sometimes helped at String Fever during busy times and she’d worked on and off at the charity consignment store in town, but she mostly lived off the proceeds of Claire’s father’s insurance policy and the sale of a hundred acres in Silver Strike Canyon that had been in her family for several generations.

“When do you start?”

“Tomorrow. Mary Ella’s going to show me the routine there.” She paused. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No, not at all! Why would I? I think it will be great for you. You’ll love it, Mom.”