Angel's Rest - By Emily March Page 0,73

Springs Cavanaughs. Our library has tremendous historical archives of the area, and our librarian, Margaret Rhodes, knows them forward and backward. Once I discovered that Cavanaughs settled in Denver, it was easy to track down Mrs. Timberlake. She lives there, is married to an attorney, and they have three children. I have a few ideas I’d like to discuss with her regarding family heirlooms. She jumped at the chance to come for a visit.”

Sage tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and frowned at Celeste. “You are still trying to solve the Lost Angel murder, aren’t you?”

“Not really, no. I admit that I have an interest in seeing that historical records reflect the truth, but in this instance I’m more concerned about the proper dispersal of Cavanaugh family treasures.”

“Hmm,” Sage said, her tone noncommital. Their inventory of the contents of the old Victorian mansion had turned up a number of valuable items, and the fact that this Mrs. Timberlake’s husband was associated with the legal profession sent up a red flag, or twelve. She’d hate to see anyone take advantage of Celeste or draw her into a lawsuit. Concerned, she asked, “Your sales contract for the house was specific in regard to the contents of the house, right? You do own them.”

“I do. Nevertheless, some things should remain in the family, and after speaking with Alison, I think she would welcome the opportunity to reconnect with her roots. Her visit ties into one of the reasons I’ve asked to meet with you today. Sage, I’d like to commission the design of a piece of jewelry.”

She sat back in her chair, surprised. “That’s flattering, but I’m not a jewelry designer, Celeste. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Just hear me out. I want a symbol that represents the healing energy of Eternity Springs. I’d like it to be adaptable for use as a small item of jewelry for both men and women—a charm or cuff link or pendant. These items will be made from the silver found in my cellar, and I will give them as gifts when time and circumstances are appropriate.”

“You mean the thirty pieces of silver?” Sage said, her brow furrowing. “That’s … symbolic.”

“I think so.”

Sage’s creative mind engaged. Treachery and betrayal transformed. Hmm. Okay, so maybe she did know where to start. A variation of the angel’s wings on Winifred Smith’s locket formed an image in her mind, and her fingers itched for a pencil and sketch pad.

“Please say you’ll do it, Sage. You must do it. You are meant to do it. I know this at the bottom of my heart.”

In that moment, Sage knew it, too. “All right. On one condition, though. No commission. This will be my personal contribution to the effort.”

“Excellent.” Celeste sat back in her chair, her weathered face wearing a satisfied smile. “Mark my words, dear. I have a feeling this particular work will effect a wondrous change in your life.”

Before Sage could pursue that curious statement, Wendy Davis approached the table carrying Celeste’s coffee and two huge soft ginger cookies. “I hear work is progressing well at Angel’s Rest,” she said.

“We are ahead of schedule, believe it or not.”

“The contractors who come in here say they’ve never seen anything like it. They’ve not had a single weather delay.”

Celeste smiled beatifically. “The weather has been a gift from God. We have an excellent shot at holding our grand opening by the Fourth of July.”

“You’re kidding.” Sage gaped at her friend. “That fast? I don’t believe it. No building project gets done that fast in this part of the world.”

“My contractors are motivated. Gabe helped me build premiums into the contracts for speed of completion, and so far my plan A is working out splendidly.”

The mention of Gabe Callahan tugged Sage’s thoughts in another direction. “Speaking of Gabe, do you know if Nic has heard from him or not? Any idea when he’s coming home?”

“I don’t know about Nic, but I heard from him yesterday. He called to update me on the building plan for the springs. He told me he’ll be returning later today.”

“Finally!”

Celeste nibbled at a cookie. “He said his brother-in-law is doing better, thank the Lord. I guess it was touch and go for a time.”

“I’ve felt bad for Nic,” Sage said after glancing over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “She’s put forth a brave face, but I know the gossip has been brutal. First the hasty wedding and then coming home alone from

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