location. But some women couldn’t escape on their own. They—and, sometimes, their children—required extraction from life-threatening situations. Over the past eight years, I’d helped Gran and Aunt Lucy with dozens of such urgent rescues.
“We should probably leave the Cherokee Rose by one,” Aunt Lucy said as we finished talking about the next day’s rescue. “If that works for you.”
“Sure does,” I said. “Sounds like fun.”
Business taken care of, the urgency left Aunt Lucy’s voice. Her syllables lengthened as her voice relaxed, and I could almost hear her smile. That smile, I knew, would deepen the laugh lines around her mouth and crinkle the skin surrounding her dark-lashed chocolate-brown eyes.
“I’m sorry for calling so late,” she said. “Are you too tired to talk?”
“No. Not at all,” I said, and I meant it.
As I settled back against my pillows, long familiarity with Aunt Lucy’s habits made it easy for me to picture her. Middle-aged and slightly plump, at this hour she would be dressed for bed in an oversize T-shirt and loose-fitting pajama bottoms. Her glossy dark hair would be caught up in a braid and she would most likely be fiddling with its end as she spoke on the phone.
Like everyone else I’d talked with that day, my aunt asked me about finding the little girl and discovering human remains near Camp Cadiz. But Aunt Lucy was the only one who’d asked how I felt and how I was doing, and she worried aloud at the impact that another disappointment might have on Chad.
“He’s such a dear, sweet boy,” she said.
Aunt Lucy chattered on, unaware of the burst of laughter I smothered against my shoulder. Too easy for me to imagine Chad’s reaction to such a glowing description. Undoubtedly, he would flush bright red and scowl. I smiled to myself as I thought of a new quip and awarded myself a point.
You might be a cop if…you practice your cold, hard stare in front of a mirror.
“Why don’t you come by early tomorrow and have lunch with Katie, Gran, and me?” Aunt Lucy continued. “It seems like forever since we’ve all just sat around the kitchen table and visited. Which, I suppose, is what happens when a family gets busy. What with your job and Katie and me running our feet off with preparations for that big wedding at the end of the month, Gran seems to be the only one with any leisure time. I told you, didn’t I, that we ended up hiring more kitchen staff?”
Southern hospitality and a sweeping view of the Ohio had always drawn a steady trickle of paying guests to our family’s historic hotel, but lately business was booming because of the food that Katie served in the antique-furnished dining room. And because of the beautiful pastries and cakes she created in the Cherokee Rose’s modern, industrial kitchen. In the past few months, word of mouth had dramatically increased the number of wedding parties booking into the Cherokee Rose.
“I’m hoping we get a break in the weather by then,” Aunt Lucy was saying. “The bride has her heart set on getting married in the back garden. Shade trees or not, her guests won’t want to spend any time outside if it stays this hot. Of course, rain wouldn’t be great, either. But with a little rearranging in the front parlor and dining room, we can bring the whole shebang inside on a day’s notice. Oh, well… At least we can be sure the food will be fabulous. Which reminds me, Katie’s experimenting with some new hors d’oeuvres for the occasion. I’m sure she’d love for you to sample them and tell her what you think.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “How’s Katie doing?”
That was a question I always asked. Because I was always concerned.
Aunt Lucy replied with characteristic enthusiasm.
“At the moment, she’s walking on air. Remember me telling you about the guest who insisted on touring the kitchen and meeting Katie? Well, it turns out he’s a travel editor for the St. Louis Post Dispatch. They ran a story about us. Well, about Katie, really. He said she was the third generation of beautiful and charming innkeepers working at the Cherokee Rose. That her beauty, personality and European-inspired cuisine should quickly make the Cherokee Rose a destination. His only criticism was that Katie didn’t spend enough time interacting with her guests.”
Pleasure warmed Aunt Lucy’s tone. But I knew her well enough that I heard the note of hesitation that crept into her voice just as it trailed