The residents of Kings Meadow and the surrounding mountains were a hardy, independent lot. They expected to see to their own needs, and usually they did. They were the sort who drove pickup trucks with rifle racks in the rear window and dogs in the truck bed. Men and women alike. Emma Carter had fit right in.
As Allison parked her Subaru in the lot of The Merc, she wondered if she would ever feel as if she belonged in that same way. She was and had always been a city girl. Boise wasn’t New York or Seattle or LA, but it was plenty big enough. It had everything it needed to make it a great place to live—safe neighborhoods, a Shakespearean festival, a ballet company, a performing arts center, beautiful parks, a large university with a winning football team, a busy airport, easy access to the great outdoors, and much more. By comparison, Kings Meadow was a mere wide spot in the road.
“Be good,” she told Gizmo as she freed him from his special doggie seat belt. Then she cracked the windows and got out of the car.
Inside the store Allison pushed a cart up and down the narrow grocery aisles. The choices were severely limited compared to the super stores down in the valley, but she wouldn’t have to go hungry. And she would learn to do Costco runs, as Aunt Emma had called them, filling the back of her SUV with nonperishable bulk items.
“Excuse me,” a woman said, breaking into Allison’s thoughts. “Are you Emma Carter’s niece?”
She met the other shopper’s gaze. “Yes, I am.”
“I’m Susan Lyle.” Smiling, the woman held out her hand. “I’ve seen you in town before, but we’ve never been introduced.”
Allison took the proffered hand. “Allison Kavanagh. It’s nice to meet you.”
Susan Lyle was perhaps sixty years old, give or take a few years. She had stone gray hair and a round face with smooth skin, except where smile lines had formed at the outer corners of her dark brown eyes. “The grapevine says you’ve moved into your aunt’s place permanently.”
“The grapevine would be correct.”
“I’m glad. It’s made me sad, having that house empty for so long. It was such a hive of activity when your aunt was alive. Emma Carter had the gift of hospitality like no one else I know. I don’t believe she ever met a stranger.”
Allison smiled, warmed by the comments.
“She was the first person to come welcome my husband and me when we moved here from LA. Many years ago now.”
“Los Angeles? That must have been a bit of culture shock.”
Susan laughed. “You have no idea. But we’ve loved living in Kings Meadow. It’s one of the best decisions we ever made.”
“What brought you to Idaho?”
“It was Ned’s idea. Ned’s my husband. He came up here on a hunting trip with his dad when he was a teenager, and he never forgot it. I was young and in love, enough that I’d go anywhere with him. So up to Idaho we came.” Susan shook her head, laughing softly again. “Goodness. Listen to me. You must have better things to do than stand jawing with me in the grocery store.”
Actually, Allison was loving the opportunity to hear another person talk. Gizmo was good company but not much of a conversationalist.
Susan continued, “I’d like to have you join me for coffee one morning so we could get better acquainted. I feel like I know you a little because of your aunt. Emma loved to brag on you and your brother. Here, this has my phone number and e-mail address on it.” She held out a card. “Please give me a call soon.”
“Thank you. I will. It was nice meeting you.”
With a parting smile and a wave of her hand, Susan pushed her cart down the aisle.
Allison glanced at the card. She would call Susan Lyle, and she would call her soon. It would be nice to have a friend who wasn’t an hour’s drive away.
Emma
1922
Emma was fifteen the first time she laid eyes on Alexander James Monroe. Prohibition was the law of the land in 1922, but Alexander turned up at the Hudsucker party with a flask of liquor tucked in his pocket. It was supposed to be a big secret, but all of the kids knew he had it. Only the adults were kept in ignorance.
From where she sat in a corner of the parlor, Emma observed the goings-on. She hadn’t wanted to come to this party, but Liza had begged and pleaded. Their parents wouldn’t let fourteen-year-old Liza attend without Emma, and so, like it or not, Emma had to come. As if she could control what her self-assured, winsome younger sister got it into her head to do.
At the moment, Liza was making eyes at Alexander Monroe, and he, of course, was taking note of her. That was how boys were around Liza. They always noticed her. They couldn’t help it. And Liza knew the power she wielded with males of almost every age. With a single flirtatious glance, she could make them do whatever she wanted.
But Emma also knew Alexander’s reputation. At eighteen, he’d already broken at least as many girls’ hearts as were represented in this house tonight. She didn’t want her sister to be added to the collection. For all her flirtatious nature, Liza was still an innocent.
Better for it to be my heart at risk than hers
. A foolish thought. Alexander Monroe wouldn’t notice her. Most boys didn’t.
Emma rose to her feet and moved around the edge of teenagers who were dancing the foxtrot. Envy made her chest tighten. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she longed for a boy to ask her to dance. She would love to turn and glide her way around the parlor. She’d practiced in her bedroom lots of times.
But no boy asked Emma to dance. She was not the pretty sister. Liza was the beauty. By comparison, Emma faded into the wallpaper.
Just once, wouldn’t it be nice to have a boy notice
her
? Wouldn’t it be nice for Alexander Monroe to notice her? She didn’t care about his reputation. He couldn’t help it he was so good-looking that all the girls fell for him. He made Emma’s heart race too, and she didn’t even know him.
Yet. She didn’t know him yet.
Allison
Allison was still in bed on Saturday morning when the phone rang. She answered with a groggy, “Hello?”
“Allison, dear. How are you?”
“Fine, Mom.” She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. Not quite seven thirty. Her mother always had been an early bird.
“You don’t sound fine. I hope you’re not catching a cold. Moving can put such a strain on one’s immune system. It weakens the body and opens you up to all sorts of germs.”
Allison shifted the mouthpiece and cleared her throat. “I’m not sick. Honest. How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine. He left for the golf course half an hour ago. Told me to send his love and to say he’ll call you later.”
“Dad loves his golf.”
“You like to golf. You should come down and go golfing with your father.”
“I don’t know when I’ll find the time to do that. I’ve got so much work to do, and with the divorce and the move, I’m playing catch-up.”
“Allison, I do wish you weren’t all alone in those mountains. I worry about you so.”
“I’m perfectly all right, Mom. If it makes you feel any better, I had a security system installed before I moved in. Not that
security is much of an issue up here. I’ll bet most residents leave their doors unlocked.”
“Well, don’t do that.”
“I won’t.”
“I wish you would move down to Phoenix and stay with us. We have a lovely guest room that could be yours if you want it.”
Forty-five and living with her parents again. Allison didn’t think so. But she understood. If Meredith needed her, Allison would invite her to move in, in a heartbeat. That’s what mothers did. They worried about their children no matter how old they got. They tried to make things better.
“If you came to live with us, Allison, you might meet a wonderful man. There are quite a few eligible widowers right here in our retirement community.”
Allison didn’t know if she should laugh or cry at the suggestion. She wasn’t in the market for a new husband, especially not one old enough to retire.
As if reading her mind, her mother continued, “And they’re not all your father’s age either, so don’t think that.”
“I love you, Mom. I really and truly do. But I’m not looking for romance. Not with anybody.”
“Are you still hoping Tony will—”
“Don’t, Mom. I don’t want to talk about Tony.”
“But—”
“Don’t.”
“I’m still praying for him. I hope that’s all right.”
“Of course. He needs all the prayers he can get.”
“I’m praying for you too.”
Tears welled in Allison’s eyes. “Thanks,” she whispered, her throat suddenly tight.
“Well, tell me how you’re settling in. Are you seeing lots of wildlife? Is there still snow on the ground?”
“No more snow.” She pushed herself upright in the bed and leaned against the headboard, glad for the change of topics. “I saw some deer earlier in the week. And on my walks I’ve seen an eagle flying above the river a few times.”
“One of my favorite photographs of Aunt Emma’s was of an eagle flying through the canyon above the river. It still hangs in our living room.”
“I know which one you mean. It must have been a favorite of hers too. It’s among the ones she hung on the walls in the bedroom.” Allison’s gaze moved to the opposite wall. “They’re still in here. I love them.”
“You can see how much Emma loved those mountains. They’re in almost every photograph she took.”
“Hey, speaking of Aunt Emma and photos, she left some boxes and trunks in the attic. I’ve been going through things in my spare time, and there are quite a few photographs of some man I’ve never seen before. A few of her in the photo with him. They look like they were a couple. Do you know who he might have been?”
“A man? I haven’t a clue. How old was she in the pictures?”
“Young. In her twenties, I suppose. Early twenties.”
“That was before my time. I never heard her or Mother mention a love interest. I would remember if either one of them had. But those two could both be tight-lipped about some things.”
Allison nodded in agreement. “You know what else was in one of the trunks? A wedding dress.”
“A wedding dress?”
“Yes. Nothing fancy or expensive. Nothing like Grandma Elizabeth’s. Whose dress do you suppose it was?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“Made me wonder if Aunt Emma was engaged at one time and then the romance went south.”
Her mother laughed softly. “That would be quite the secret for Emma and Mother to keep all of those years. Can’t imagine why they would. The dress must have belonged to a friend or a distant cousin or something.”
Gizmo chose that moment to jump off the bed and whine.
“Listen, Mom. I’ve got to go. The dog’s begging to be let out. If you want, I can call you back when he’s through.”
“No. I don’t suppose that’s necessary. But do call me in a few days.”
“Okay, I’ll do that. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, dear. And remember, I’m praying for you.”
“I’ll remember. Give my love to Dad.”
They both said good-bye, and Allison put the portable handset into the charger. She was tempted to nestle back under the covers, but Gizmo let her know he was growing impatient. She got out of bed, pulled on her bathrobe, and escorted the dog outside.
Standing on the deck while keeping an eye on Gizmo, Allison drew in a deep breath. After ten days, she felt mostly settled in, like she belonged here. It surprised her a little, how fast that had happened. She’d expected to feel as if she were visiting her vacation home for quite some time.
She and Tony had lived in their house on Mountain View Drive for more than twenty years. Meredith had grown up there. How many improvements had they made to the place? Dozens. And each one of those improvements had helped make the home uniquely theirs. If she closed her eyes, she could smell cookies baking in the oven or picture Tony standing at the gas grill on the patio or see the family sitting near the Christmas tree, Meredith opening presents. Memories. Good memories. There were many of them.
But Tony lived in that house alone now. Allison hadn’t tried to fight him for it. Her lawyer had counseled her to sell the house and divide the proceeds, but she hadn’t been able to follow that advice. She was still trying to rescue him, she supposed. But the mortgage was paid off, and she wouldn’t have to worry that he had no place to live if things got bad for him again.
And things always got bad again for Tony.
Summer 1988
Allison and Tony had been married not quite three months when she discovered she was pregnant. Having a baby so soon hadn’t been in the plans, but Allison wasn’t sorry. She loved Tony so much. Having his child would simply make their marriage all the happier.
It was the Saturday of Labor Day weekend when they drove over to Tony’s parents’ home for a barbecue. It was the perfect opportunity to share the news with both families, since everyone would be there.
Dad Kavanagh had just slapped the steaks on the grill when Tony clanked a fork against his glass. “Hey, everyone. I’ve got something I need to tell you.” He looked through the screened door to the kitchen at their two mothers. “Mom, can you and Maggie come join us?”