“I question your math on the population of this town,” Eleanor said. “but I like where your head is at, otherwise. Would it… have a theme?”
“Yes, obviously,” Diana said at once. “Love themes. So fun.”
“Maybe… Hawaiian?” Eleanor gave Diana a hopeful shrug.
“Absolutely,” Diana agreed. The theme itself didn’t really matter as much as her friend’s excitement did. She had no doubts that once Magnolia Shore got to know Eleanor Ridley better, they’d love her… and her store.
The pair of friends spent the rest of their lunch brainstorming details for making the launch party the best it could be. Diana threw herself into thinking about décor options, menu selections, and possible events or activities to lure in families with kids. In the back of her mind, however, her worries lingered.
Her store’s finances needed to be repaired sooner rather than later.
And she would have to take care of those repairs alone.
She could only hope that just because she was alone now didn’t mean that she would be alone forever.
CHAPTER THREE
Winnie Burnett tucked a strand of her pin-straight, platinum blonde hair behind her ear so she could inspect the glass display case without anything obscuring her peripheral vision. She had just put the finishing touches on the newest display at the Magnolia Shore Historical Society. Winnie had been the head of the society for the past seven years running. It was her pride and joy.
And this newest display was a stunner. It contained railroad tracks from one of the oldest railroads in Massachusetts. The tracks had been thought lost forever, buried under a century and a half of weather, building, and people moving around throughout the area, but recently a couple of homeowners from the outskirts of town had been re-landscaping their backyard and had found several slats and trestle ties that dated back to the mid-1830s. The couple had donated the relic to the historical society, and Winnie had gotten to work. She’d researched everything she could about the long-ago railroad, had distilled everything she’d learned into a perfectly phrased little plaque, and had arranged it all inside a display case that ensured that the train tracks would last another century and a half more.
It was perfect. It was all perfect.
Except… what if it wasn’t? Her fingers practically itched to go fetch the level from the storeroom and make sure that the trestles were all perfectly even. Even though she’d already checked four times.
No. She didn’t need to do that. Not even when the voice in her head whispered that if itwasn’tperfect, then everyone would see. And then they would laugh at her. And then she’d be fired from the historical society. And then she’d have nothing left.
Nothing and nobody.
“Keep it cool, Winnie,” she told herself quietly. Her voice was a bit scratchy, and it made her realize that she hadn’t talked to anybody all morning.
That was what came from spending so much time on her work, she supposed. She lived alone too.
But it was all worth it… right?
“This is very exciting,” she said out loud to herself, since she didn’t have anyone else to tell about her accomplishments. “This is a very important find. I should celebrate.”
But celebrating didn’t mean that much when there was nobody to celebrate with.
Her smart watch beeped on her wrist, reminding her that she had an upcoming meeting with a history professor from one of the smaller colleges that was about an hour out of town. The historian was writing something about nineteenth century whaling expeditions that had launched out of Massachusetts ports, and she wanted to access Winnie’s archives… er, thehistorical society’sarchives.
EvenifWinnie had been the one to organize them almost singlehandedly.
Her meeting reminder informed her that she still had about twenty minutes before the professor was set to arrive, and those academic types were always a few minutes late, something thatnormally put a bee in Winnie’s bonnet. Today though, she was celebrating her triumph, even if she had to celebrate it alone.
And that meant she deserved an afternoon pick-me-up from Juniper Café, she decided. She checked to make sure that her skirt hadn’t gotten twisted, then confirmed that the line of buttons on the front of her blouse were lying just as straight. The outfit was a little stuffy for such a warm summer day, but Winnie, who always preferred to maintain a polished appearance, wanted to make sure she looked extra professional for the launch of the exhibit. It wasn’t necessarilylikelythat a rush of patrons would come to check out the train tracks as soon as they were available to the public, butmaybe.
Winnie needed to be ready for every maybe.
The warm sun hit her like a wall as she walked out of the municipal building. The offices to the historical society were in one wing of the sprawling, red brick building, while the town clerk resided in another part, the mayor in another, and the city council chambers in yet another. Some people might have found that crowded, but Winnie liked it. She liked knowing all about what happened in her town, not just the things thathadhappened centuries prior.
Fortunately, Juniper Café was only a few blocks away. Winnie didn’t even want to think about having to show up to her next meeting looking sweaty and disheveled. The air conditioning in the café was a soothing balm, however, and she sighed, luxuriating in it as she stood in the short line to get her drink.
She ordered an iced, skim, sugar-free vanilla latte, her preferred drink for a hot summer’s day. Just before the cashier rung her up, she added a honey twist pastry on an impulse. It was atouchirresponsible, as working with historical artifacts and eating sticky honey didn’t really go together. But shereasoned that she could be a little daring… just as long as she washed her hands thoroughly before returning to her office.
She nibbled at the pastry while she waited for her coffee. The chiming of the entry bell over the door absently grabbed her attention.
Winnie paused mid-bite as Eleanor Ridley and her friends, Diana Madsen and Cadence Meadows, entered the shop. They were already laughing about something, and Cadence was gesturing with her hands, apparently to illustrate a point.
