Judith Bowen - Zoey Phillips

Either way, wouldn’t it be a knock-out story to take back to the Jasper Park Lodge reunion next year?

WITH THE VISIT from Cameron Donnelly, plus her determination to get through the first chapter of the Chinchilla manuscript, Zoey missed lunch entirely. At two o’clock, she decided to take a break and drive out to Edith Owen’s place, three miles outside town along the river. She grabbed a sandwich from a takeout deli and drove with the radio turned up full blast, singing along to Nellie Furtado as she drove.

Edith lived in a double-wide trailer on a big open lot. There used to be a small three-room log house in that location, long since demolished, where Mary Ellen had lived as a child. Widowed twelve years earlier, Edith Owen was remarrying, a surprise romance with her neighbor, a retired army man, according to Mary Ellen, a tireless fisherman and a lifelong bachelor.

Edith wanted a quiet civil ceremony and had no idea that Mary Ellen was planning a big party for the whole town. Zoey was going to help with the planning and, most importantly, bake the wedding cake. Call-a-Girl had catered a number of small weddings, and Zoey had helped Lydia with the cakes many times. She’d never made one entirely on her own, and was a little nervous at the prospect.

Zoey was dying to meet Tom Bennett, Edith’s fiancé. He must be quite a man, Zoey thought, knowing how madly in love Edith had been with Mary Ellen’s father. And what had entered a long-term bachelor’s mind to change his circumstances at this time in life? she wondered. Mary Ellen’s stepmother was in her mid-fifties, and Zoey guessed Tom Bennett must be of a similar age. Plus, Edith was wheelchair-bound most of the time these days, suffering from spinal stenosis, a crippling long-term spinal condition.

True love. Must be. You never knew where it would show up, she thought, signaling for the turnoff that led to the Owens’ place. Tom and Edith or—look at her. Who’d have guessed she’d even contemplate blowing on the embers of her long-ago romance with Ryan Donnelly?

Edith’s yard was tidy but plain, no flower beds or any kind of landscaping that took extra attention. At this time of year, the grass was brown, with occasional patches of snow under the trees and in dips and hollows, all that remained after the last snowfall, a week ago, Elizabeth had told her. The trees were bare.

Because of her condition, Edith relied on her neighbors for help. Tom Bennett, who lived in a small house nearby, had kept her lawns mowed and her table sup plied with trout, as well as vegetables from his small garden. In the fall, Mary Ellen said, he brought her fresh game for her freezer.

“Hi!” Zoey got out of the car and locked it. Mary Ellen was standing by the frame porch, holding an armload of firewood.

“This is a nice surprise!” Mary Ellen called. “Come in. Edith just put on the kettle for a pot of tea. She’ll be delighted to see you.”

Zoey followed her. The porch door opened directly onto the kitchen, a warm and welcoming room, with two cats sleeping in a tumble on an upholstered rocker. The furnishings were simple and the tiled floor was spotlessly clean.

“Zoey!” Edith held up both arms and Zoey hugged her. Zoey thought she’d lost quite a lot of weight since she’d seen her last, which had to be when she and Mary Ellen were still in high school.

“How lovely to see you, Edith!”

“Sit down. Have a cup of tea.”

Zoey sat as Edith busied herself in the kitchen, pouring the tea and getting milk out of the refrigerator. She was very adept at moving her chair around. Zoey noted the collection of framed photographs on the wall—landscapes and family pictures, including the wedding photo of Edith and Morris Owen, Mary Ellen’s father. Edith had always been an avid amateur photographer when finances permitted.

“Congratulations on your engagement, Edith. I’m so pleased for you.”

She blushed prettily. “Oh, some say I’m too old for this. But Tom and I will be very happy, I know. He’s a very fine man.”

Morris Owen had been killed in a logging accident. Zoey remembered the horrifying news as it spread through town, into the high school where a teacher had beckoned Mary Ellen from the cafeteria to the principal’s office so he could break the news privately.

Mary Ellen had been devastated. Her father had raised her on his own until he’d met Edith Lowry, a thin, pale woman a little older than he was and originally from Vancouver, working in the Stoney Creek Rexall Drugs. They’d been happily married for four years, and all the while, Edith’s condition had gradually sapped her strength. After her husband’s death, Edith had eked out a living making and selling handicrafts, working for telemarketers from her home and spending her husband’s Worker’s Compensation settlement, penny by frugal penny. Somehow, she’d managed to finish raising his daughter, to arrange for Mary Ellen’s education and to keep her house and property.

Mary Ellen loved Edith like the mother she couldn’t remember. More than anything, Zoey knew, Mary Ellen wanted to give her stepmother a wonderful wedding.

“You find a place yet, Zoey?” Mary Ellen called from the living room, where she’d dumped her load of firewood by the fireplace. She joined them at the kitchen table.

“Well, sort of. You’ll never guess who made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” Zoey stirred her tea vigorously.

Mary Ellen shook her head. “No idea.”

“Cameron Donnelly! He says they’ve got an apartment out there built over a garage or something, and I can stay in it while I’m here.”

Mary Ellen had looked a little startled at her announcement. “You’re going to take it?”

Zoey stared at her. “Of course I am!” She reached for a cookie on the plate that Edith had shoved across the table. “It’s perfect. I can work on my book in peace and—” she winked at Mary Ellen “—who knows?” She hummed a few bars of “Young Love.”

Mary Ellen didn’t say anything. After a few seconds, she looked directly at Zoey. “You don’t mean, you know—you and Ryan again?”

“Hey, I’m just joking. What’s past is past and a good thing, too.”

“Amen,” Edith said quietly. “More tea?”

Zoey refused, and half an hour later, said goodbye. She’d wanted to see Edith and let Mary Ellen know where she’d be for the next little while, but she was anxious to return to the hotel and get herself organized for moving out to the Donnelly ranch. It wasn’t as though she and Mary Ellen could toss around any ideas for the wedding, not while Edith was right there.

On the way back to town, Zoey pondered her friend’s response to the news that she was going to be staying on the Donnelly ranch. Mary Ellen hadn’t seemed too thrilled. The more she thought about it, though, the more she realized that Mary Ellen was only thinking of Zoey’s welfare, worried she’d get upset about Ryan again. Zoey had been all primed to confess that she did have an ulterior motive in moving to the ranch. But, no, Elizabeth was the one to tell if Zoey really felt the need to confide. Elizabeth wouldn’t take everything so seriously, the way Mary Ellen might.

Mary Ellen was too sweet and sensitive. Too softhearted. Zoey recalled how horrified she’d been at the story Elizabeth had told about Adele dumping Ryan at the altar and was doubly glad she hadn’t spilled the beans about what she had in mind.

No, Mary Ellen would just worry and she had enough on her hands with Edith’s wedding coming up.

ZOEY WAS PACKED and ready to leave by noon the next day. She went down to check out and retrieve a trolley for her bags. Cameron was in the lobby, reading a newspaper.

As dependable as he’d promised, she thought with a smile. She paid for her room and started back to the elevator with the trolley, assuming he hadn’t seen her, when she heard a man clear his throat behind her. She half turned.