Most of the folks ran from the church to their vehicles without even stopping to shake the preacher’s hand on the way out. When Mack’s group reached the back pew, he noticed that Granny Hayes had stayed seated. An old black felt hat with a peacock feather stuck in the band was crammed down on her head. Two long gray braids fell to her waist, and her face was weathered and wrinkled.

“Could I take you home, Miz Hayes?” Mack asked. “It would be quite a ride out to your place in this weather for Dusty.”

“Or you could have Sunday dinner with us,” Lily said. “We’ve got a nice big roast in the oven at home, and a cherry pie for dessert.”

“Dusty don’t like storms. I reckon he’s already broke his tether and is halfway home by now.” Granny Hayes looked past Lily and Mack and focused on Holly. “That’s a pair of my earrings you’re wearing.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Holly’s face lit up in a grin. “They’re my favorite pair. I wish I knew how to make more.”

Granny Hayes stood up. “I’ll let you take me home, and I thank you for the offer of dinner, but I’ve got dinner in the oven.” She glanced at the earrings again. “What’s your name?”

“Holly Anderson. Vera Miller was my grandma,” Holly answered.

Mack was shocked that Granny Hayes talked to Holly at all. He’d never seen her pay a bit of attention—good or bad—to any of the kids in the church.

Lily marveled that Holly had mentioned her grandmother, and wondered why she did that. Maybe she wanted the elderly woman to know that she wasn’t a stranger in Comfort. Holly and Braden both continued to surprise Lily more and more every day.

“Vera was a good woman. You look like she did when she was your age. Holly, would you like to have dinner with me, and afterward I could teach you how to make earrings if you’re interested in learning?” Granny Hayes asked.

“Yes, ma’am, if it’s all right with my mama, and I really do want to know how to make them and to make the shawls, too.” Holly looked up at Lily. “Please?”

“Thank you for the offer, Miz Hayes,” Lily said. “When y’all get done, you just give me a call, and I’ll come get her.”

“I don’t have a telephone or any of these newfangled gadgets. You can come get her at three thirty. That’s when I take my Sunday nap,” Granny Hayes said. “Don’t honk the horn. It spooks Dusty. We’ll be waiting on the porch.”