"Come with me-I want everyone to hear." Margaret Louise wrapped a chubby hand around Tori's upper arm and fairly dragged her the rest of the way to the study. They'd barely stepped a toe into the room where the sewing circle was being held when Leona's twin bellowed their arrival. "Hello everyone, we're here."

Greetings ensued, followed by the claiming of chairs and appropriate lighting. Once they were all settled, Margaret Louise got straight to the reason for her hallway gratitude.

"Do you know what Victoria's done in the span of just a few days?"

All eyes turned on the new librarian. Including those belonging to an unfamiliar woman in her seventies.

Dixie Dunn.

Tori swallowed and shifted uncomfortably in the leather armchair she'd selected. "Margaret Louise, I-"

"On Saturday, I had Jake's kids. He went down to Pine Grove to visit Melissa so I hosted Baking with Nana Day."

"She's Nana," Leona said from her own leather-bound chair.

"So there we were, rolling out our cookie dough, when I realized one of them was missin'."

Tori looked a question at Leona.

"One of the grandkids. Jake's given her six."

Tori nodded and caught back up with the one-way conversation pouring from Margaret Louise's mouth.

"I leave the lot of them playin' with flour and go off in search of that knee-baby of mine."

Knee-baby?

As if she'd read her mind, Leona leaned to the side and whispered in Tori's ear, "That means the second youngest child in a southern household. Which will have to change when Melissa has number seven."

Good grief, she was going to need a dictionary of southern expressions before the next meeting.

"So off I go. In search of Lulu," Margaret Louise continued.

Lulu?

Tori's mouth dropped open.

"Do you know what she was doing when I found her?" Margaret Louise looked around the room for an answer to a question she didn't intend anyone to answer. "She was reading. Out loud. To her stuffed animals."

Leona's hands clapped in the air, a smile spreading across her face like wildfire. "Oh, Margaret Louise, how wonderful!"

"What does Victoria have to do with that?" Rose asked from her perch next to Dixie.

"I'll tell you." Margaret Louise took a rapid inhale/ exhale and then began a tale which included Lulu's trip to the library on Friday. As she relayed everything she'd learned from her pint-sized granddaughter and the child's teacher, Tori felt her face grow warm with pride.

"How wonderful, Victoria." Georgina nodded her head softly, a genuine smile playing across her lips. "That's exactly the kind of community outreach the board is looking for-outstanding."

A snort from the far side of the room brought an end to the jovial mood.

"The board also understands the importance of preparedness."

Tori stared at the woman. What was she saying?

"Dixie, now is not the time," Debbie said softly.

"Of course it's the time. If Margaret Louise is going to paint a picture of our new librarian, it's only fair she gives the whole one."

Too stunned to speak, Tori simply waited.

"She was unprepared for Lulu's class visit. Unprepared . . . as in caught completely off guard despite the fact Mr. Wentworth had a long-standing appointment."

All eyes turned on Tori once again, questioning.

"The appointment book Nina keeps at the front desk has gone missing." She looked down at her hands as the explanation slipped from her mouth, weak and pathetic. The plate Margaret Louise had handed her still sat in her lap, covered.

"Missing?" Dixie prodded. "How can an appointment book that has been all but nailed to that table for forty years go missing?"

How indeed.

Margaret Louise's strapping and good-natured voice took charge once again.

"Missin' or not, Victoria landed on her feet quite well from what I hear. Do you know those children made homemade butter just as Laura Ingalls did? Lulu was so excited about it, she insisted we make our own for the cookie recipe." Margaret Louise looked around the room before bringing her focus squarely onto the town's former librarian. "As we made it-and I must say all that shakin' may have helped shed a pound or two-Lulu talked about the differences between how we get food now and how they got it then."

"Oh, Victoria, my Jackson would have loved that. He's not even in kindergarten yet and all he talks about is getting to be in Mr. Wentworth's class because of all the neat trips they take." Debbie threaded her embroidery needle with a turquoise blue floss as her face flushed a pale pink. "Suzanna had him last year and he's such a doll."

A collective sigh emerged from the lips of nearly every woman in the room-not the least of which was from Tori herself.

"It's a shame he's not found another love." Rose cleared her throat and lifted a shaking glass of sweet tea to her lips. "I guess Celia was his one and only."

"Celia?" Tori asked, her curiosity piqued.

"His wife. She died of an aneurysm not six months after they married."

She gasped. "How horrible."

"That was almost ten years ago." Rose set her glass down and dabbed at her lips with a cloth napkin.

"I can't do sad tonight. I just can't." Debbie reached into her purse and extracted a wallet-sized photograph from inside. "I brought this to show y'all. It's Jackson's fourth-year birthday portrait . . . isn't it precious?"

As oohs and ahhhs circulated throughout the room along with Jackson's picture, Tori couldn't help but steal a few glances in Dixie Dunn's direction. Leona Elkin had warned of sour grapes on the part of the former librarian, but sour grapes didn't do it justice. Dixie Dunn was furious. She could hear it in the thinly disguised barbs that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else. She could see it in the glares Dixie shot in Tori's direction throughout the night. She could feel it in the anger that seemed to emanate from the woman's body.

"Speaking of Milo Wentworth, did anyone see Tiffany Ann Gilbert over the weekend?" Rose asked as she peered up from the zipper she was hand sewing into her daughter's skirt. "I'm telling you that pampered education she's been getting has done that child no good."

Heads nodded.

"She arrived back in town the morning after our last circle and she's been coming into the bakery for a coffee every morning since then. Though, come to think of it, she never made it in this morning. One minute I saw her peeking in the front window, staring at my customers, and the next she was gone-I guess maybe she had somewhere to go and was scared off by the midmorning line." Debbie retrieved her son's picture from the last set of hands and placed it lovingly back inside her purse. "Anyway, on Friday she was all dressed up in a cute-and very formfitting-little suit. Said she had an important appointment in Ridge Cove."

"What kind of appointment could Tiffany Ann possibly have had in Ridge Cove of all places?" Rose asked, her lip curling upward.

"What's wrong with Ridge Cove?" Tori whispered to Leona.

"It's as backwoods as they come, dear."

"Oh. Okay, thanks." She returned to the conversation, ready to follow the volley once again.

"I don't know for sure. She just said if things went well, she'd be one step closer to reaching her career goals." Debbie set her purse back on the ground and settled into her chair. "So I didn't see anything wrong. If anything, she seemed very happy. And hopeful."

Georgina shook her head. "I saw her just yesterday at church. She was mighty jumpy and acting more than a little bizarre. Thomas thinks"-she lowered her head and peeked out at everyone through lowered lashes-"she may be into . . . drugs."

A collective gasp emerged from the group as machines shut off and needles stopped midstitch.

"That's just nonsense," Margaret Louise bellowed.

"Don't be so quick to discount it, Margaret Louise. I knew a young man once who was into drugs. When he was on them his behavior changed drastically." Leona shook her head as she spoke. "So sad. I hope her family gets her help sooner rather than later."

Tori looked around at the women. "What does this Tiffany Ann girl have to do with Mr. Wentworth? I thought one of you said she was dating some boy she'd met in high school."

"She was for a while. But Cooper Riley is in love with only two things. His cars and Tiffany Ann."

"I'm confused. Is that a bad thing?"

"For Tiffany Ann it is. She has aspirations. None of which mesh with those of a small-town mechanic." Rose knotted her thread with expert hands then looked up at Tori. "Problem is, it's been mighty near eighteen months since she broke it off with him. Yet to hear him talk, they're not only still together but heading for the altar. Blasted fool."

"Some say he's a little obsessed," Margaret Louise chimed in from her spot in the corner.

"Thomas just said the other night that he finds young Riley's infatuation for Tiffany Ann alarming. There he was, buttering his roll during our first supper together in ages, and out it came. I guess I just always found it to be rather sweet." Georgina sighed and looked around the room. "Now how did we get on the subject of Cooper?"

"We were talking about Milo, which segued into Tiffany Ann." Debbie plucked a spool of turquoise-colored thread from her sewing box and held it against the sign she was making. "Perfect. Just perfect. Anyway, as to your question, Victoria . . . Tiffany Ann has had a crush on Milo since she was-"

"Good evening, ladies."

All eyes turned in the direction of the doorway, and a tall, balding man with blue eyes looked back.

"Oh Thomas. I want you to meet Victoria, the new librarian." Georgina's smile lit her face as she gestured in Tori's direction. "She bought one of Douglas Harrison's cottages."

"I remember you telling me that." The mayor's husband crossed the room, his strong hand clasping Tori's tightly. "Welcome to Sweet Briar, Victoria. How do you like it here so far?"

She felt Dixie studying her as she contemplated her answer. "I love it. It's very different from Chicago, but in a good way." And it was true. She had her dream job and a chance to start over.

"I'm glad. Life is about seeing an opportunity and making the most out of it." Thomas turned to his wife and winked. "So, what are you ladies discussing? Or is it better I don't ask?"

"I was just telling everyone about Tiffany's behavior at church yesterday."

Thomas shook his head slowly, disappointment springing into his stance as he looked around at his wife's friends. "It's quite obvious that young woman has gotten into some undesirable things in college. I feel bad for her parents. First they deal with her stories, then her stubbornness, then her desire to attend a fancy and expensive school. It's a shame."

Tori turned to Leona, her voice too low for anyone but her friend to hear. "Stories?"

"In addition to being beautiful, talented, and more than a little stubborn, Tiffany Ann has been known to tell a few tall tales. Nothing too harmful, but lies nonetheless. Personally, I think she just craves attention." Leona looked up from her magazine and leaned her head closer to Tori's. "And although it's earned her a reputation for being untrustworthy with the adults in this town, her beauty and town pride have kept them from writing her off completely. Everyone just wants to see her succeed. For her parents' sake if nothing else."

"Oh." She sat up straight, focused her attention on the talk with Thomas once again.

"Thomas has been wonderful since Robert's been away . . . keeping his eye on things around town at night when he's not traveling himself," Georgina boasted.

"Robert?" she asked Leona from the side of her mouth.

"The police chief, dear. You really must learn these thin-"

"Anyway, ladies, it's been nice chatting with you but I'm going to head upstairs. I've been wanting to polish our coins for the past week and haven't had the time."

"You polish silver?" Debbie asked.

"He polishes his coin collection, Debbie. Trust me, he drops his boxers on the ground just like every other man."

Thomas laughed. "Okay. I'm out of here. I know when I'm in the minority. Good night everyone. Have fun. Oh, and Victoria"-he cast his midnight blue eyes in her direction-"it was nice to finally meet you. Georgina has had nothing but good things to say."

She felt her face warm as the man waved and walked out of the room, her cheeks surely as red as Rose's thread at the compliment.

"So where were we-again?" Debbie asked, her laughter bouncing off the walls with its soft but pleasing sound.

"The other charmer in town," Margaret Louise said as she winked knowingly at the mayor. "Milo Wentworth."

"Oh, yes." Debbie unwrapped a long piece of thread from the spool. "Anyway, Tiffany Ann has had a crush on Milo since she was twelve years old and her parents asked him to tutor her. He tutored her for less than a year but it was enough for Tiffany Ann to fall head over heels. Why, she'd bring him things to all their meetings . . . drawings, apples, whatever she could find."

"She was so taken by him she plumb refused-refused-to speak to his wife. Flat-out ignored her," Margaret Louise offered. "And it's a well-known fact she was the only one at Celia's funeral who didn't cry."

"But what about this Cooper boy?" Tori asked.

"He was just someone to bide her time with until she was of age, dear," Leona whispered.

"And Lord help the person who talks about finding a woman for Milo Wentworth," Debbie said, picking up the conversation once again. "MaryAnn Ward made that mistake once and Tiffany Ann went crazy. And when Beatrice here first moved to town she let her know Milo was hers."

Tori stared at the quiet girl bent over a sewing machine. "She did?"

Beatrice looked up and nodded. "Once she heard I have someone back home, she was fine. A delight, really."

"But this girl is what? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?" Tori asked.

Debbie nodded. "It doesn't bother her in the slightest that he's thirteen years older. Never has. Never will."

"And boy does she get that man flustered with her flirtations," Margaret Louise said between hearty laughs. "Do you remember at last summer's fair when she offered to pay him at her own kissing booth? He sputtered and stammered like Jed Tucker's beat-up old jalopy. And then quit."

"I think women in general fluster Milo. Though, from what I hear, he seemed at ease with you, Victoria. Some even said he seemed rather comfortable with your flirtations," Georgina commented.

Tori felt her mouth gape open as every set of eyes in the room trained on hers.

"How did . . . I mean, I didn't . . . I wasn't-"

"But as beautiful as Tiffany Ann is," Georgina continued, "the last thing Milo Wentworth needs to mend a broken heart is a twenty-two-year-old woman on drugs."