Chapters (42)
- Cover
- About the Book
- About the Author
- Also by Carol Goodman
- Praise
- Title Page
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Mistress of the Sea
- The Queen’s Confidante
- The Age of Desire
- Acknowledgements
I started to tell Frank that they wouldn’t be able to close it even if they wanted to because of the link I’d made with my heart, but before I could I heard Bill’s voice behind me.
“Let me help you.”
He was standing in the doorway to the library with a mop in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. I was about to object – Bill had no idea what he would be getting himself into – but Frank was already extending his hand to shake Bill’s. Bill leaned the mop against the wall, put the teacup down on the foyer table and grasped Frank’s hand in his. A secret understanding seemed to pass between the two men but I was damned if I knew what it was. For all I knew, they rooted for the same baseball team.
“Glad to have you on board, Bill,” Frank said. “I could use your help.”
There didn’t seem to be anything I could say except a hurried goodbye to Bill. “There might be some things you’ll want explained,” I said.
“Let’s leave the explanations for later,” he said, kissing me hard on the lips. Then he was gone, leaving me to wonder what explanations he might have for me.
I went with the Stewarts to their truck – an enormous vehicle with jacked-up tires. Mac gave me a hand up into the high cab and then squeezed in beside me. The two Stewart men took up so much room I practically had to sit on Mac’s lap, which made him grin until a scowl from his father wiped the smile from his face.
We drove down Elm Street and onto Main, which looked like it was under a foot or two of water. The only thing open was the Village Diner. As we passed, I saw a tired-looking Darla through the window filling sugar canisters. We passed Mama Esta’s Pizza and Browne’s Realty. Was Dory with Brock now? I wondered. I hoped so. Would they both leave? Were they saying goodbye to their human friends and neighbors?
A bitter tasting grief was rising in my throat as fast as the flood water. “We can’t let them get away with it,” I said. “The town would never be the same.”
“No, it wouldn’t be,” Angus agreed somberly. “The town’s barely been hanging on with the economic downturn. This latest blow might destroy it totally.”