“Cliff and I are housing the animals for the live Nativity scene,” she explained. “Remember?” The local Methodist church had brought in animals for the display. Grace wasn’t sure where the camel had come from but as far as she was concerned it could go back there anytime. And it would. Yesterday had been the final day for the animals’ appearances; they’d be returning to their individual homes just after Christmas. True, she’d miss the donkey, since she’d grown fond of him. But the camel? Goodbye, Sleeping Beauty! Grace almost snorted at the animal’s unlikely name.

“Of course,” Olivia said, “the live Nativity scene. I didn’t get a chance to see it. So that’s how you encountered the camel.”

“Yes, I went out to feed the dastardly beast. Cliff warned me that camels can be cantankerous and I thought I was being careful.”

“Apparently not careful enough,” Olivia said, sputtering with laughter.

“Hey, it isn’t that funny,” Grace said, slightly miffed that her friend hadn’t offered her the requisite amount of sympathy. “I’ll have you know it hurt.”

“Did he break the skin?”

“He’s a she, and yes, she did.” Grace’s arm ached at the memory. “Sleeping Beauty—” she said the name sarcastically “—bit me right through two layers of clothing.”

“Did you need stitches?” The amusement had left Olivia’s voice.

“No, but Dr. Timmons gave me a prescription for antibiotics and then bandaged my arm. You’d think it had been nearly amputated. This morning I had trouble finding a sweater that would go over the dressing.”

“Poor Grace.”

“That’s more like it,” she said in a satisfied tone.

“Let Cliff feed the camel from now on.”

“You bet I will.”

“Good.”

“That’s not all.” Grace figured she might as well go for broke on the sympathy factor.

“What—the donkey bit you, too?”

“No, but the sheep stepped on my foot.”

“Poor Grace.”

“Thank you.”

“A sheep can’t weigh that much.”

“This one did. I’ve got an unsightly bruise on the top of my foot.” She thrust out her leg and gazed down on it. Her panty hose didn’t hide the spectacularly colored bruise at all.

“Oh, poor Gracie.”

“You don’t sound like you mean that.”

“Oh, I do, I do.”

“Hmph. We haven’t had much of a chance to talk in the last few days, so tell me what you’re doing for Christmas,” Grace said.

“It’s pretty low-key,” Olivia told her. “Justine, Seth and Leif are coming over tonight for dinner and gifts, then we’re going to church at eight. What about you and Cliff?”

“Same. Maryellen, Kelly and all the grandkids are coming for dinner and then we’re heading to the Christmas Eve service. Cliff’s daughter, Lisa, and her family are here as well. Tomorrow we’re all going over to Maryellen and Jon’s for dinner.”

“Jack and I are having Christmas dinner alone. He’s let on to everyone that he’s cooking but between you and me, D.D.’s on the Cove is catering.” Olivia laughed, apparently amused by her husband’s resourcefulness. “Justine invited us,” she added, “but we declined. Next year,” Olivia said, and it sounded like a promise.

Everything would be back to normal by this time next year. Olivia would be finished with her treatments this spring. Seeing what her friend had already endured, and her quiet bravery in the face of what was still to come, had given Grace a deeper understanding of Olivia. Her strength and courage impressed Grace and humbled her. Like every woman their age, they’d suffered—and survived—their share of tragedy and grief. And now Olivia was coping with cancer.

Grace stood and looked out the small window that offered a view of the interior of the library. Mary Jo sat with her shoulders hunched forward, cell phone dangling from one hand.

“I have to go.”

“Problems?”

“I should get back to Mary Jo.”

“You’ll keep me updated, won’t you?” Olivia said.

“As much as I can.”

“Okay, thanks. And listen, Grace, stay away from that camel!” She laughed, and then the line was disconnected.

The next time they met at the Pancake Palace, Grace intended to make Olivia pay for her coconut cream pie.

Grace called her husband quickly, then stepped out of her office and slipped into the chair next to Mary Jo. “How’s it going?” she asked.

“Not so well, I’m afraid. I tried to call David. I have his cell phone number and I thought he’d answer. It’s Christmas Eve and he has to know I’m waiting to hear from him.”

Grace took Mary Jo’s hand in hers. “He didn’t answer?”

“Oh, it’s more than that. He…he had his number changed. Last week—” she struggled to speak “—I tried to reach him at his office in California and learned that he’s quit his job. We both work—worked—for the same insurance company, which is how we met.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I don’t dare let my brothers know.”

Mary Jo had mentioned them earlier.

“How many brothers?”

“Three, all of them older. I’d hoped David would be here with his parents, but I knew the odds that he’d told the truth weren’t good.”

Grace nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“I think I told you my brothers want to make David marry me—or at least pay for all the lies he’s told. They decided they were going to come and confront him, and if not David, then his family.”

Grace could only imagine how distressing it would be for Ben and Charlotte to return from the vacation of a lifetime to find Mary Jo’s three angry brothers waiting for them. On Christmas Day, yet.

“That’s why it’s important I talk to Ben and Charlotte first,” Mary Jo concluded.

“I think you should,” Grace said.

“Except…”

“Yes?” she prompted.

“Except it looks like I’ll have to go back to Seattle this afternoon.”

“Why?”

“I called all the places on the sheet you gave me and there aren’t any vacancies.”

“Nowhere? Not in the entire town? What about the Comfort Inn?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You mean everything’s already reserved?”

“Yes. There’s no room at the Inn.”

4

“Linc,” Mel shouted from the kitchen. Three Wyse Men Automotive had closed early due to the holiday.

“In a minute,” Linc shouted back. “Where’s Mary Jo?” He’d already searched half the house and hadn’t found her. He knew she’d taken the day off. Had she gone to the store, perhaps? Or to visit her friend Chloe?

“If you come to the kitchen you’ll find out!”

Linc followed his brother’s voice and with Ned at his heels, entered the kitchen. As soon as Mel saw him, his brother thrust a sheet of paper into his hands. “Here. This was behind the coffeemaker. Must’ve fallen off.”

Before he’d read two words, Linc’s face started to heat up. His stubborn, strong-willed, hardheaded, obstinate little sister had gone to Cedar Cove. Without her family, because she felt she knew best. Tossing the note to the ground, Linc clenched both his fists. “Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do.”

“What?” Ned asked.

“Mary Jo’s decided to go to Cedar Cove on her own,” Mel said.

“By herself?”

“Isn’t that what I said?” Mel snapped.

“It’s true,” Linc informed his youngest brother. “I can’t believe she’d do anything this crazy.”

“We drove her to it.” Ned sank into a kitchen chair and splayed his fingers through his thick dark hair.

“What do you mean?” Mel challenged.

“Explain yourself,” Linc ordered.

“Don’t you see?” Ned gazed up at them. “All that talk about confronting David and forcing him to do the honorable thing. The man hasn’t got an honorable bone in his body. What were we thinking?”

“What we were thinking,” Linc said irritably, “is that David Rhodes is going to pay for what he did to our little sister.” He looked his brothers in the eye and made sure they understood.

When their parents were killed, Mary Jo had only been seventeen. Linc, as the oldest, had been made her legal guardian, since there was no other family in the area. At the time, the responsibility had weighed heavily on his shoulders. He’d gone to his two brothers and asked for their help in raising their little sister. Or at least finishing the job their parents had begun.

Both brothers had been equally committed to taking care of Mary Jo. Everything had gone smoothly, too. Mary Jo had graduated from high school the following May, and all three brothers had attended the ceremony. They’d even thrown her a party.

That autumn he’d gone with Mary Jo to the community college and signed her up for classes. She hadn’t taken kindly to his accompanying her, but Linc wasn’t about to let her walk around campus on her own. Not at first, anyway. Cute little girl like her? With all those lecherous college guys who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves? Oh, yeah, he knew what eighteen-year-old boys were like. And he’d insisted she choose solid, practical courses, not that fluffy fun stuff they taught now.

All the brothers were proud of how well Mary Jo had done in her studies. They’d all disapproved when she’d dropped out of school and gone to work at that insurance company. More than once Linc had to bite his tongue. He’d told her no good would come of this job.

The problem with Mary Jo was that she was too eager to move. She no longer wanted to live in the family home. For the last year, she’d talked incessantly about getting her own place.

Linc didn’t understand that either. This was their home. Linc saw to it that Mary Jo wasn’t stuck with all the cleaning, cooking and laundry. They all did their part of the upkeep—maybe not quite to her standards but well enough. That wasn’t the reason she was so determined to live somewhere else.