“The hardest-working photographer in Virginia,” he said. “Not many people hustle like you do.”
“Thanks again for the lift at the wedding on Saturday. We’d have had some very soaked guests.”
“Glad I could help.”
“I asked Libby to photograph the grounds and the greenhouse,” Elaine said.
“Great,” he said. “Just let me know what I can do to help.” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “Elaine’s a tough boss,” Colton said lightly.
“I’m not the boss,” Elaine said, laughing. “That would be Margaret.”
“Don’t be put off by my mother,” Colton said. “Mom’s gruff, but she’ll do anything in the world for you.”
“Nice to know.”
“Margaret is not fond of the new kitchen,” Elaine said with a smile. “She’s missing the old stove with a nonfunctioning burner and the oven that took too long to heat.”
“I feel her pain. Change is hard,” Libby said.
“That sounds like experience talking,” Elaine said.
“I just moved back to the area. Still adjusting. But don’t get me wrong; change is also good.” She tagged on the last statement for effect. Like Margaret, she was still searching for the payoff for this new life.
“I remember your dad,” Colton said. “He was my pediatrician.”
“I think he took care of every child in a twenty-five-mile radius.”
“When I was six, I went tearing off after Ginger, who had taken my Superman toy. I slipped and fell and split my head wide open. Dad bundled me up, and your dad met us at his office on a Saturday afternoon. Your dad was dressed in golf clothes. Didn’t seem to bother him that my antics had ruined his afternoon.”
An uninterrupted day off had been a rarity in the McKenzie house. And after Libby’s mother died, her father had worked longer hours. Many times, Libby had resented his patients. “He wasn’t very good at golf, so he saw the call as a rescue.”
Elaine’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and when she glanced at the display, she said, “Colton, can you drive Libby to the greenhouse? I’ll be right behind you. I’ve got to take this call.”
“Be glad to.”
Nodding, Elaine already had her phone pressed to her ear and quickly turned and shifted her focus to the caller.
“She can change gears on a dime,” Colton said. “One minute she’s here, and the next she’s mentally back at the law office. Grab her while you can. She never sticks around long.”
CHAPTER FIVE
SADIE
Wednesday, December 24, 1941
Bluestone, Virginia
As her brother Johnny’s truck rolled into the town of Bluestone, which was not more than a few scattered wood-framed buildings, fifteen-year-old Sadie scooted to the edge of the worn seat. They rumbled toward Sullivan’s mercantile store.
Going into Sullivan’s General was always a treat. Although she could not afford a thing in the store, she still liked looking at the fabrics, gadgets, and magazines filled with pictures of beautiful people who lived in far-off, exotic places. Some days when Mr. Sullivan was in a good mood, he held back some of the older magazines for her. She was hoping with the holidays he was feeling generous.
Johnny downshifted into second gear and pulled up alongside the curb by the mercantile store. The town was nowhere as big as Charlottesville. But it had a church, a general store, a feed and seed, Dr. Carter’s office staffed two days a week, a small diner that was the only place within thirty miles that served liquor, and, of course, a jail. Since the soapstone factory had closed nine years ago, none of the businesses except the café and jail got much traffic.
The front window of the mercantile store was decorated with a big green Christmas wreath decked out with a crisp red bow. Underneath were several wrapped packages. Two weeks ago when she had been in the store, she had picked up the smallest package because she had been drawn to the bright-red paper. When she had shaken it and realized it was light as a feather, she had shouted across the store to Mr. Sullivan and asked what was inside. He had frowned, mumbled something about them being empty and just for show. She had then jostled all the boxes and sadly discovered they all felt empty.
“Remember, no touching,” Johnny warned. “Mr. Sullivan don’t like you shaking those boxes and announcing to the store that they’re empty.”
“Seems a real waste to take the time to put fancy red paper on a box just for show.”
“You take the time, Sadie, if you’re trying to sell the paper or get