Authors: Mariah Stewart
Stef shook her head. “There was always going to be Scoop. It was part of the plan.”
“What plan?” Wade frowned.
“My plan.” She held up one finger. “Marry the coolest guy in town.” Next finger. “Make ice cream.” Third. “Live happily ever after.”
“Well, I guess that seals it”—Wade grinned—“since I am the coolest guy in town.”
“Well, you were back then,” she said over the rim of her glass.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not cool anymore?”
“Oh, you’re still cool enough,” she teased. “But other guys are cool, too. It’s tough to know who wears the crown of cool these days.”
“Well, then, since it’s predetermined that you’re to marry the coolest guy in town, I suppose I’m going to have to do something extraordinary to prove that I’m still worthy.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. His other hand dipped into the pocket of his jacket. “Will this help seal the deal?”
He slipped a ring onto her finger, and she gasped.
“What? How did you … when did you …”
“At least look at it, why don’t you?” He laughed.
“Oh, my God. Is that thing real? Look at the size of that thing.” She held her hand up to her face and stared at the round Ceylon sapphire surrounded by diamonds. “It looks a little like Princess Di’s ring … only the big stone is round and the color is prettier.” She looked up at him. “Seriously? This is for real?”
He nodded. “It was Berry’s. She offered it—well,
she offered my choice of several rings that she had. I liked this one the best, but if you’d rather look over the others, I won’t be insulted and she’s perfectly fine with it.”
“No, no,” Stef insisted. “I love this one. It’s exactly what I’d have picked if you’d asked me. I just can’t believe …” She stared at the ring. “But wow. I can’t believe Berry offered.”
“I think she liked the idea that Grant gave Dallas his grandmother’s ring. And while we won’t be announcing to the world that you’re wearing
my
grandmother’s ring, it’s given her a certain amount of satisfaction, I think, to know that she’s passed on something of hers to you.”
“I need to make her an ice-cream flavor. I did Berry Berry but I need something more special. Maybe for when her new movie comes out.”
“So you’re good with it?” he deadpanned.
“I’m more than good.” She grabbed his tie and pulled him closer and kissed him soundly on the mouth. “I’m fabulous.”
“You are. But the question remains: Who is the coolest of them all?”
“It would have to be you, Wade. That was the plan.” She kissed him again. “And see how nicely it’s all worked out? I am making ice cream. I am marrying the coolest guy. And I will live happily ever after.”
He raised her hand to his lips and promised, “We will live happily ever after.”
“Of course we will.” Stef smiled smugly. “Like I said—that was the plan …”
Diary ~
Well, love is certainly in the air in abundance around here these days! Who came into Cuppachino this morning sporting a huge sapphire-and-diamond engagement ring? Why, Steffie, that’s who! And I thought I had my finger on the pulse around here. I can’t say that I didn’t know there were sparks flying every time she and Wade got within ten feet of each other, but last I’d heard, he was headed for a new job in Connecticut. One minute I was wishing him well at his new job and reminding him that we expected to see him at the inn’s holiday party this year—the next, he’s going into business with Clay Madison right here in St. Dennis and slipping a ring onto Steffie’s finger! The ring is glorious, by the way—Steffie says it had belonged to Berry. Now that’s lovely, isn’t it? Berry having no children or grandchildren of her own, I’m sure she was delighted to pass something on to her grandnephew’s girl
.
Dallas spoke to me about possibly booking the inn for her wedding, but I don’t know that we have the staff to handle a Hollywood wedding. I’ve asked Daniel—again—to speak with his sister about coming back to handle this sort of thing for us, but he’s reluctant. Every time I mention it to
Lucy, she gets very … well, prickly, I suppose, is the word. I don’t understand it. Truly, I do not. I understand that she has a very successful event-planning business out there in California, and she’s rightfully proud of that. But for heaven’s sake, the family business needs her here! We’re booking weddings left and right and are in desperate need of someone with her vision and experience. I’m afraid if we can’t fill the needs of our brides, we’re going to start losing some of the business Daniel has worked so hard to attract to the inn. Oh, not the guests—we rarely have an empty room from April right through the first few weeks of September. But the catering and event planning—we need help! Perhaps if I asked Lucy to come back just to do Dallas’s wedding … I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in charge of that event?
Add to that the fact that my dearest friend, Trula, tells me that she’s coming to town next week to discuss possible wedding plans for someone who is very near and dear to her—well, I don’t know how Lucy could pass up the chance to do
that
affair, Trula’s “near and dear” being who he is. How could anyone in their right mind turn down two such high-profile, sky’s-the-limit weddings—one a famed Hollywood beauty, the other an international business mogul. Goodness, if one were trying to build a portfolio and
establish a reputation, either of those events would surely do it! Why, the publicity alone would be priceless
.
I think I’ll call Lucy right now, before I … oh, I almost forgot! I am now in possession of Alice’s Ouija board, thanks to Vanessa—and I have to say, it’s every bit as lively as it was when dear Alice was alive. And I’ve learned so many fascinating things from it—not the least of which is that Horace Hinson and Alice were lovers! Just fancy that! How sad for her to have been so crippled with her condition that she couldn’t bring herself to come out into the world. Horace, apparently, brought the world to her. A tragedy, yes—but a true love story all the same
.
That little board is just full of tales. I can hardly wait to see what it reveals to me next!
~ Grace ~
To Kate Collins—come what may
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, many thanks to the stellar team at Ballantine Books: Kate Collins, Linda Marrow, Scott Shannon, Libby McGuire, Kim Hovey, Gina Wachtel, Kelli Fillingim, Junessa Viloria, Scott Biel, Kirstin Fassler, and Quinne Rogers. (I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone!)
Once again, the ADWOFF raffle benefitting the Nora Roberts Foundation resulted in a reader having won the right to have her name used for a character in one of my future books. Cindy Sims, the future is now! And thanks to Phyllis Lannik’s kind heads up, Cindy’s mother made a cameo appearance. I hope Helen Kay Hinson would have approved.
Thanks as always to my agent, Loretta Barrett, and the crew at Barrett Books.
Many thanks to the crew at the Borders Express, Springfield Mall, Springfield, PA, but especially to Maureen and Jenn. You guys most certainly do rock!
And last but God knows, never least—hugs to Chery Griffin aka Victoria Alexander for sharing some
extra
fine whine this time around.
Hometown Girl
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2011 by Marti Robb
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
B
ALLANTINE
and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-345-53146-9
v3.1_r1
Diary ∼
Is there anything quite like a brisk morning in late October? The blood moves a bit quicker, the heart beats a little faster, and the step is just a little livelier than in summer when the heat and humidity bear down mercilessly. But I do have to confess that I do not like this daylight savings time moving into early fall the way it has these past few years. It’s bad enough that the days are starting to grow shorter on their own, without imposing an earlier “fall behind” on us all!
There. Rant over!
I love all the merriness of the season as much now as I did when I was a child—the scarecrows that suddenly appear on the front porches and lawns, their straw-filled flannel shirts and old jeans held up by corn shocks or lampposts that seem to be everywhere. And the pumpkins! Oh my, the pumpkins, with faces like grinning demons, lit from within, or painted to look like clowns. Oh, and the ever-popular cat silhouettes, their tails straight up in the air as they shriek silently at some passing fright—ah, I have to admit, I love it all! I have always loved Halloween—especially here in St. Dennis, where we do the holiday justice
.
Just last month, I sat in on the planning committee for this year’s Halloween Parade, and I have to say it’s going to be glorious fun! We’re going to close down Charles Street and have the children parade right through the center of town to the marina, where we’ll give out prizes for the best costumes and award all the participants with ice cream made especially for the occasion by Steffie at Scoop and apples from Madison’s Orchards. All the merchants in town have contributed something to the festivities—mostly in the form of prizes—and I love that the entire community is involved. We have selected our Halloween queen, as we do every year, but of course, my lips are sealed, as it’s a huge no-no to reveal her identity until the day of the parade. As far as I know, no one has ever let that cat out of the bag prematurely. It would simply take away the fun of it all. But I will say that this year’s selection is especially fitting, and will be met with universal approval, I believe. Then, later, there’s the traditional trick or treat for the children, and later still, a bonfire on the square
.
It seems like only yesterday I was dressing my children in their costumes and shepherding them into town for the parade. Dan would take the three of them—Daniel, Lucy, and Ford—trick or treating among the friends and neighbors and family in town, and bring them home hours later, exhausted and dragging pillowcases stuffed with enough treats to last for weeks. No thoughts of razor blades or poisoned candy bars back then, although one year someone did slip a couple of dog biscuits into Ford’s bag, much to his dismay
.
Those were indeed good old days. My Dan was still alive and we were all together, all five of us, under the same roof every night. When I closed my eyes to fall asleep, I knew where all three of my precious children were. That’s a claim I haven’t been able to make in many years, much to my sorrow. Ah, well—perhaps someday …
∼ Grace ∼
At the moment the moon began its descent and the sun started to rise, the back door of the old farmhouse opened and a petite woman with a long strawberry-blond ponytail stepped out onto the porch. Brooke Madison Bowers hesitated for a moment before walking on bare feet through the cool dew-covered grass that was a week overdue for a mowing. When she reached the small fence-enclosed garden, she pushed aside the squeaky gate and headed for the stone bench, where she sat alone in the soft shadows and the hush of the new day until the dawn began to break in earnest.