“Writing.” It wasn’t a lie, merely a partial truth. She walked to the doorway and stopped. Lina had a photo album open on her bed, a box of tissues nearby. “I’m sorry I let her wander off.”
“Nonsense.” Lina tried to smile, but it seemed strained. “Shadow does what she wants, don’t you girl?” The shepherd sat at Lina’s feet, body pressed against her legs, head in her lap.
“Is everything okay, Lina?” Trish knew with a single glance that it wasn’t. She wished she knew how to make it better. Easier.
“Just reminiscing.” She waved a dismissive hand. “If you’re hungry, I can fix you something to eat.” Another sniff accompanied her words.
Cookies all but forgotten, Trish bravely stepped into the room and dropped onto the bed beside Lina, placing her hand on top of the woman’s. “Pictures of your family? I’d love to see them.” This could be a mistake, she knew. Maybe her request would make the poor woman burst into tears.
Lina squeezed her hand and let go to reach for the album. “They’re from my wedding day.Ourwedding day. This is my husband, Cecil. Wasn’t he handsome?” For the next hour, Lina explained each picture on each page, and described the day in detail, all with love in her voice. Trish found herself completely drawn into the story, asking several questions.
“It was the most chaotic, wonderful day of my life.” Lina’s head turned and locked on an oak door. “Do you want to see my dress?”
“You still have it?” Tingles of excitement ran through Trish. She’d always wondered what it would be like to have a grandmother of her own, to hear these wonderful stories, and share special moments with.
“Of course.” Lina disappeared into the closet for a moment and returned with a plastic see-through garment bag that showcased a beautiful satin gown with lace sleeves. Small crystals were woven into the lace that flowed across the neckline. “It isn’t much, but—”
“Isn’t much? It’s beautiful!” Trish hopped to her feet to take a closer look. “Absolutely perfect.” It saddened Trish to think it might never get worn again but stay in the garment bag for the rest of its days.
Lina hung it from a hook on the inside of the closet door, her hand reaching to the bag. “Cecil sure loved this dress.”
“Has anyone else worn it?” Trish asked.
“I offered to let Kate wear it on her wedding day, but that girl already had her dress picked out. Strong-willed, that one is. Always marched to the beat of her own drum.” Lina sighed as she lifted the dress off its hook and carried it back into the closet. “It’s a shame. Too old-fashioned for kids nowadays I suppose.”
Trish almost blurted, “I’d wear it.”But the words tangled her tongue, and rightfully so. “Maybe the woman who marries Wade would want to wear it.”
“Only if he gets past this whole notion that he’d rather be alone,” Lina mumbled from inside the closet. With a click of a string light switch, the closet went dark and Lina closed the door behind her. “I suppose I should get to bed. And you need some sleep before your session with Taylor. You’ll want to make a good impression.”
A yawn ensued as she herded Shadow out of the bedroom. Trish stopped at the doorway, turning toward Lina. “Thank you. I’ve never had any grandparents to share their stories with me.”
“Of course, dear.” Lina met her at the doorway and wrapped her in a heartfelt hug. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Get some rest.” With the door halfway closed, she added, “And Trish?”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t mention me in this state to Wade. He worries too much about me.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
Chapter 15
Trish
Every single fearshe’d been repressing since she got in her car and drove to Wyoming came whooshing back. Trish wiped her sweating palms against her jeans, trying to ignore the way her chest kept thudding as she waited for Taylor to appear on the laptop screen. Lina had set up a Skype call with the literary agent an hour ago in a small office under the living room staircase. Taylor had already met with two authors, and was on a quick coffee break before she sat down with Trish.
What if her story stank? What if it was the worst thing Taylor had ever read? What if she told her to give up her dream of being a writer?
“Hello there.” A woman, maybe a couple of years older than Trish, with dark hair pulled into a bun, appeared on the screen as a voice came through the computer’s speakers. “You must be Trish. I’m Taylor.”
“Yes, I’m Trish. H-hi.” Could she sound any more nervous?
Taylor’s reading glasses were visible on the top of her head as she stirred something just below the screen, only her spoon’s handle visible. Trish tried relaxing, but the stiffness of her purple flower-patterned chair made it difficult. She tried to calm her breathing with slow controlled breaths, hoping Taylor wouldn’t notice.
Taylor reached for the reading glasses and slid them on. “I’ve had a chance to look over your first three chapters.” No small talk. NoHow’s your day?Just right down to it. Which, when one considered she only had twenty minutes scheduled for the discussion, made sense. She shuffled some papers, which Trish assumed wereherpages.
“Yes?” It was the only intelligible word that escaped her lips.
Taylor kept moving her glasses, putting them back on the top of her head. “The premise has promise. There’s an adorable meet cute for your two main characters.”
