Melissa and Christopher had made the trip from D.C. and were blessedly staying at a B&B run by old family friends rather than the Landrys’ crowded cottage. They’d had a commemorative plaque made for Sadie with “Hester’s” engraved in gold, plus the shop’s opening date and Sadie and Renee’s names. It was stuffy and formal—plus, where in the heck was Sadie supposed to hang such a thing? But Sadie knew her parents meant well, and she appreciated it.

What she appreciated more than their present? Their presence, of course.

“Sadie! I cannot believe you designed this!” Melissa had exclaimed, sticking a well-manicured hand against her chest at her first sight of the newly renovated Old Red Mill. “It’s certainly come a long way from that stuffy restaurant that used to be here.”

“You did good, sweetheart,” Christopher chimed in, clapping her on the back as if she were a banker buddy, “though that place did put out a nice steak.”

“I wish your grandma was here to see this.” Sadie was surprised to see tears in the ever-composed Melissa’s eyes. “She would have loved it. All of it. You are making her dream come true, and I know she’s smiling down on you today.”

“Thanks.” She’d smiled, too pleased to say anything more interesting. “I feel her here today too.”

Ethan’s bruises were almost faded, but while he’d given up the crutches he still had a limp. Christopher had Lincoln balanced on his broad shoulders and they both smiled, revealing matching sets of dimples. How had Sadie never noticed Lincoln inherited those from her father until this very moment?

Annette and Melissa were having an ever so polite showdown, in which both women were using their hips to bump the other a little farther back, trying to get the coveted spot closest to Sadie.

“That’s my daughter-in-law!” Annette was saying to anyone remotely close to her periphery as Melissa chimed in, “And my daughter, of course.”

Sadie giggled—seriously, what world was she living in?

From the schoolhouse lighting to the checkered floors, she was so proud of this space, and sensed her grandmother would have loved it, too. The walls were full of old memories and soon so many new, wonderful ones would be created within them.

And her work at the Old Red Mill had only just begun. The notion filled her with such happiness, such purpose, she thought her heart might burst. Her next assignments? Designing new spaces for both Castaway Yarns and Chickadee Studios. Her little chat with Essie had turned her brainstorm into a reality. It didn’t take much convincing to get the businesses to relocate to the Old Red Mill. The insurance money didn’t hurt either.