Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Fiona offered a return squeeze. “Raymond’s going to be okay. He is,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “The pain medication has made him extra tired, that’s all.”
“What happened?” Jane asked, doing her best to mask her growing tremors.
“Well, after I left your house, I paid him a visit at his request.” Her friend licked her lips. “He had missed dinner, you see, so I went straight to his kitchen to prepare my famous blueberry pancakes.”
Lucky man. There was no meal more perfect than those pancakes. Jane’s most favorite food in all the world. A treasure worth more than gold.
“We ate and giggled like silly teenagers and—” Fiona’s lower lip trembled. Tears filled her dark eyes. “The next thing I knew, he was on the floor, clutching his chest, trying his darnedest to die on me. I’ve never been so frightened in my life. I called 911, and here we are.”
“Oh, Fee. I’m so sorry.”
Fiona rasped, “My incredible food caused too much excitement. I think I’m done with baking for good.”
What! No! “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that again.” Such a horrendous idea should never be entertained. “If anything, those pancakes gave him something to live for.”
“Maybe.” Fiona sniffled. “But probably not.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “What if he doesn’t recover? What if… Jane, what if I killed him? What if you aren’t the only one who’s cursed?”
A barbed lump grew in her throat, restricting her airway. Did Fiona love the sheriff? The grandmother had certainly crushed on him for years. Ever since his wife had left him for another man and another town. And what if the Ladling curse had transferred to her dearest friend through their prolonged association?
If the kind woman who’d comforted Jane after every heartbreak now suffered because of their association…
Her airways constricted a bit more. Though the curse itself focused on romantic love, stating every Ladling female was destined to lose her chosen partner—whether it took a day or a decade—Jane had lost so much more. Her mother, who often forgot her very existence. Same with her father. Both Grandma Lily and Pops had died far too early.
Only a handful of blood relatives remained. A smattering of half brothers and half sisters who weren’t part of her life. None wanted to be. Jane had the people in this room, plus Rolex, Trick, Isaac and Holden, and no others. The eight she’d chosen to welcome into her orbit. If Sheriff Moore died, Fiona might waste away of a shattered heart, leaving Jane with only six friends and an endless supply of guilt.
Who would the curse cull next?
Wait. How had it gotten so hot, so fast in the room? When had her throat finished closing, making it impossible to breathe? For that matter, why was her heart punching her ribs? And how was her blood ice cold, despite that awful heat?
“Jane?” Fiona cried. “Jane, what’s wrong? You’re turning purple. Doctor! Doctor! Help!”
Conrad and Beau leaped from their chairs. The special agent rushed over to Jane, muttering to the others, “She’ll be fine, I’ve got this,” while Beau went straight to Fiona.
Jane’s boyfriend performed his patented move, slinging an arm around her waist. He led her into the hallway and pressed her back against a wall.
“Inhale, sweetheart.” Ever gentle, he gathered her hair with one hand, holding the bundle over her shoulder, and stroked his knuckles up and down her sternum with the other. “Exhale. Inhale.”
“You think I’m not trying?” she croak-yelled, glaring anywhere but Conrad, searching for an avenue of escape. She needed to leave this hospital now, now, now. She needed…she…
“Look at me.” He repositioned, cupping her jawline, saying, “Look at me, Jane.”
Oh, that coaxing tone! Did he have any idea how irritating it was? But okay, fine, she obeyed, meeting his eyes for a split second, because manners. She did it again, only longer. Then again. Suddenly, she couldn’t peer elsewhere. He beamed all kinds of kindness and understanding at her, igniting tendrils of calm. Those tendrils coiled around her panic and choked the life from it.
She sucked in oxygen. “I hate that this is happening. The curse is up to its old tricks, only it’s branching out, determined to claim new victims. Poor Sheriff Moore. Just when things started to blossom with Fee, snap! Not so fast, it says. You might want to back out of our arrangement now, Conrad, before it’s too late. No telling what the curse will do to you.”
He traced his thumbs over the rise of her cheeks. “All you see is never all there is, sweetheart.”
“You’re giving me a riddle?” Was he for real right now? “Do you not care that a good man might die for a bad reason? Especially when the town really, really needs him. As you probably noticed, crime rates have recently spiked.”