Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
“Anyone find anything?” Jane asked.
Negations rang out. But that was okay. She’d accomplished what she’d set out to do. “Who’s ready to finish their meal and enjoy the reward of dessert?”
“Praise the Lord,” Beau said. “I’m starved.”
Conrad and Wyatt bumped forearms.
“I’m about to throw down on that turkey,” Wyatt exclaimed.
The six of them returned to the cottage and their spots at the table. Suddenly, everyone was shoveling in food, passing bowls, talking, and laughing. The earlier agitation was gone. Cheddar prowled under the table, searching for scraps. Rolex hadn’t abandoned his post above the fridge; he lay across the top, observing everything.
Jane caught Conrad’s eye, and he smiled. She reclined in her seat, satisfaction oozing over her. You know, he and Beau were right. This might be the best holiday ever.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A maid a-milking is worth her weight in gold. Or better yet, love. A far more precious substance. But remember, a maid isn’t her best without her tools. Start with kindness, a sense of humor and a zest for life.
–Lily Ladling’s Holiday Advice for Ladies Cursed in Love
Jane hung Christmas lights in the Paradise Ladling section of the Garden. She always decorated for her family first, then the permanent guests. Otherwise her ancestors would stage a revolt; she just knew it. Plus, she was eager to speak privately with Grandma Lily.
Bonus: Jane didn’t have to worry about Conrad overhearing. He was gone when she woke up. Again, he’d left no note. Had sent no text. Not that she was complaining. Or missing him. Nope. She’d chosen her path. Now she had to live with the consequences.
Mist plumed in front of her face as she exhaled. Even though golden sunshine bathed the land, the temperature had dropped ten degrees, bringing a crisp chill scented with pine and burning wood. Like most of the other sections in the cemetery, a hedgerow of southern wax myrtle cordoned off the area. She smiled at the bluish winter berries growing in clusters on each bush and remembered how Grandma Lily used to pluck them off to create aromatic candles.
Hmm, that might be a custom Jane should revive. All the necessary supplies were stored in the shed and who wouldn’t want a candle made from berries found growing on the grounds of a cemetery? Cha-ching! Talk about the perfect money-making opportunity now that fresh bodies had stopped showing up on the property.
She crossed to her grandmother’s familiar gray, coarse-grain marble headstone with carvings of lilies lining the sides and brushed off a few dried pine needles. Opal and Benjamin lived in this area as well, though the carvings on their headstones had been softened by time.
“You remember how we used to lament all those people who thought gold was buried somewhere on the grounds?” Jane began, pausing to adjust the angle of her snow cap and double check the top button of her coat. “Well, it turns out they may not have been too far off the mark. Just a few decades too late. I found great-grandfather Benjamin’s old journal, and it looks like he found it. Guess that’s why he ran off.”
Grandma Lily didn't need to know the salacious details about his affair with Elise Dansing, and the possibility of a kinship with Tiffany Hotchkins, who could return to town any day. A sigh escaped, filling the air with mist. Maybe the holiday had injected a little hope into Jane’s heart because she kind of wanted to try and make friends with the other woman. It might be nice to have another living relative. For both of them.
“Thank you for your letters.” An ache of love and happiness tightened her chest. “I’ve been reading them. They mean the world to me. But I’m in a bit of a pickle, and I need more advice. I know Pops told you about the curse before you married him. Neither of you thought that curse would transfer to you the moment you took his last name. You thought the recipient had to be a Ladling by birth. But you were wrong. Pops ended up dying, wrecking you.” She glanced at her grandfather’s plot and winced. “Sorry, Pops, but it’s true.”
His headstone was the same northern Georgia marble as Lily’s. A matching set for soulmates finally reunited.
“Sure, it seems like it was that faulty ticker of his that got him,” Jane continued. “But we all know it was the curse, not his tendency to add mounds of bacon crumbles to every meal.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Did you ever regret wedding him?”
The wind kicked up a brown, dried leaf, and Jane dragged in a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to admit. “I may be, kind of, sort of falling for someone. Though I wish I wasn’t! How can I circumvent the curse?”
Jane paused. Braced herself for a catastrophe to strike at even the tiniest admission of falling. Maybe a burst of spontaneous lightning that would deep fry the former agent. Or perhaps the Darien river beast coming out from the shadows, thinking to drag Conrad under a body of water, even though they weren’t near an ocean.