Ripped From the Pages (30 page)

“It was my idea,” she said, and couldn’t keep from flashing a proud grin. “As soon
as I saw all those treasures in the cave, I worried that there would be some hanky-panky.
So I called an old friend of a friend, who recommended another friend, and Elizabeth
called me back.” She gazed fondly at Elizabeth. “I think we worked very well together.”

Elizabeth’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I think you are the bravest woman I
know.”

“I agree,” Robson said.

When I was over the worst of my shock, I said, “Wow. Good job, you two.”

Robson held up his wineglass. “A toast, to all the brave women we know.”

“Hear, hear,” Dad said, giving Mom’s shoulder a light squeeze.

As I watched Trudy take a slow sip of wine, I was reminded of something else. “Trudy,
you said you remembered what the surprise was.”

She brightened. “Oh, Brooklyn! Yes, I wanted to give you my bookends.”

I frowned at her. “Your kitten and quail?”

“No, no. I would never give up my darling kitten and quail. They were gifts from my
father. No, the bookends I had for you are two lovely brass angels. Your mother always
says you need a guardian angel to watch over you because you’re always finding . . .”
She blinked. “Oh dear.”

She didn’t have to say it. I was always finding dead bodies. Trudy was probably stammering
because she realized I’d done just that when I’d run in and found Amelia lying dead
in her living room.

“Well,” Trudy said, a little flustered as she fluffed over that detail. “I decided
that morning that I wanted you to have the angels because when I talked to Robson,
he called you an angel. And it’s true. You are.”

“Oh.”

Derek handed me a tissue before I asked for it. He knew me, knew that tears were already
welling up in my eyes.

“And that day before the young man arrived,” Trudy went on, “I was straightening up
my mantel to make more room for my marble bookends. That was when I saw the angels
and was reminded of you. So I wanted you to have them.”

“That’s so sweet.” I gave her a big hug. “Thank you, Trudy.”

“I wish I had them to give you right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get them next time I’m at your house.”

“Oh, wait!” She laughed. “I took a picture of them with my phone that day. Just like
the kids do.” She fished her phone out of her purse, found the photo, and passed it
to me.

My eyes widened as I stared at the photograph of one of the angels she planned to
give me. One angel was bent over, comforting a child, and the other had a sword raised
above his head. The avenging angel. I handed the phone to Derek, who studied the picture
for a long moment.

He passed the phone back to me, and I could tell from the bemused look on his face
that we were thinking precisely the same thing: Trudy’s angels looked exactly like
something sculpted by Rodin. We had both done a bit of research when we were wondering
who might’ve sculpted Trudy’s kitten and quail.

We stared at each other and began to laugh. So it was possible that Trudy really did
have a pair of Rodin bookends. Or they could be wonderful forgeries. It didn’t matter
one bit.

“Thank you, Trudy,” I said, handing back her phone. “They’re beautiful. I will cherish
them and the thought behind them always.”

Robson leaned over and kissed Trudy’s cheek. Then he turned to the small crowd and
held up his wineglass. “I would like to propose another toast.”

“Hear, hear,” Dad repeated, and winked at me as he lifted his glass with enthusiasm.

“To the angels among us,” Robson said, his affectionate gaze touching all of us in
the room. “May they always guard our treasures, great and small.”

Two months later, on a gloriously sunny day in Sonoma, at the top of a terraced hillside
overlooking the beautiful green valley, my best friend Robin married my brother Austin,
surrounded by several hundred family and friends.

The food was fantastic, the wine was delightful, and the dancing continued late into
the night. I was thrilled to be able to call Robin my sister every chance I could,
mostly because she was brought to tears every time I said it. But more important,
because we had been sisters of the soul since we were in third grade. I loved her
as much as, or maybe a little more than, my own sisters. She had lived in my house
for months at a time, and my parents considered her the fourth daughter—or was she
the fifth?—they always wanted.

I finally took a break from dancing to rest my feet. I rarely wore heels, preferring
to wear Birkenstocks when I worked in my studio—shoes that Robin referred to as “Hobbit
wear.” Needless to say, my feet were feeling the stress.

The party had been going on for six hours now, and I was more than ready to leave.
But as maid of honor, I felt it was my duty to stay until the bride and groom left.
As soon as they were gone, though, I would be dashing out of there.

It wasn’t just the dancing that had exhausted me. No, it was something much more insidious.
It was my mother’s girlfriends. They were on some kind of mission. Frankly, if I had
a nickel for every time one of them had asked me when Derek and I were going to tie
the knot, I’d have ended up with a great big pocketful of change.

Besides being a rude, clichéd question to ask, it was embarrassing for me. None of
them seemed to care, though. A few of my mother’s friends had even asked me the question
right in front of Derek. He had smiled politely, uttered some charming bit of fluff
about me being the love of his life, and then extricated himself as quickly as possible.
I didn’t have that luxury, since my mother would find out if I’d been impolite to
her girlfriends. No, I had to stand there and smile and make excuses. It was weird.
I should’ve come up with something funny to say, but those women caught me off guard
every time.

I brushed those thoughts away and concentrated on all the wonderful parts of the day.
Several of the Frenchman’s Hill families had been invited to the wedding, and it had
been so much fun to see them enjoying themselves. I hadn’t seen them since Robson
had rented a massive truck and a few of us had driven over to Frenchman’s Hill to
deliver the heirlooms and treasure back to their rightful owners. That was a day I
would never forget. And now we were all celebrating together as friendly neighbors.
It was a lovely thing to see.

I watched Elizabeth slow dancing with Jackson on the dance floor. Those two looked
awfully lovey-dovey, even though they continued to insist they’d never known each
other in a past life. I wondered again if she might ever consider moving here. I knew
that Trudy would love it if she did, and I would, too. Elizabeth and I had become
good friends again, but it was more than that. If she made Jackson happy, we would
all love her forever.

“Darling, are you ready to go?” Derek whispered in my ear.

I turned and wrapped my arms around him. “Almost. Where are Robin and Austin?”

“They left a half hour ago.”

“Oh. Darn.” I looked up at him and laughed. “We could’ve been out of here a lot sooner.”

“You were still dancing.”

“And my feet will kill me tomorrow.” I laid my head on his shoulder. “I’m glad Robin
escaped without too much fanfare. She was afraid everyone would make a fuss.”

“They snuck away soon after the cake was served. I overheard your mother suggesting
to Robin that they get out ‘while the getting was good,’ as she put it.”

“Smart woman.”

“The party appears to be winding down,” Derek said, “although the caterers and bartenders
are still on duty.”

“Robin asked them to stay until midnight. But if she’s already gone, then as maid
of honor, my work here is done. Let’s go.”

We walked arm in arm to the car, and just as Derek opened the passenger door for me,
I noticed two people standing in the shadows nearby, under an oak tree.

“Who’s that over there?” I asked quietly, trying to see in the dark.

“Some neighbors, perhaps.”

“Wait. No, that dress looks familiar.” I looked closer. “Are they arguing?”

“It’s none of our business, love.” He tugged at my arm.

I gazed up at him. “You know that’s not true. We introduced them.”

“Let’s go.” He gently shoved me into the car and jogged around to the driver’s side.

“Why were Alex and Gabriel arguing?” I asked myself.

“None of our business,” Derek reiterated as he pulled out into the narrow lane and
headed down the hill.

“He can’t possibly be interested in her.”

“Why not?” he asked. “She’s a lovely woman and very accomplished.”

“But she’s a dominant, remember? She likes submissive males.”

Derek laughed. “How could I forget? I was rudely informed of that news many months
ago.”

“Oh, right.” I felt myself blush as I recalled an old, slightly crazy conversation
from months ago, about handcuffs and masking tape. “But that’s just it. Gabriel is
the second most alpha man I know. They’ll never get along.”

“That doesn’t mean they can’t be friends,” Derek said reasonably.

“This is terrible.”

“Darling, don’t take it so hard.”

“No, it’s terrible because Alex is leaving for a business trip in New York,” I whined.
“I’ll have to wait a whole week before I can get any news or gossip from her.”

“One week without gossip,” he said with a laugh. “That is a terrible shame.” As he
drove, he reached for my hand, slowly lifted it to his lips, and kissed my palm.

I smiled. “I knew you’d understand the problem. That’s why I love you.”

“And I love you, darling. Perhaps we simply ought to make our own news instead of
waiting to hear from others.”

“What do you mean?”

He pulled the car to the side of the road and stopped. I watched, mystified, as he
reached over to the glove compartment, removed a small box, opened it, and held it
in front of me. “Marry me, Brooklyn.”

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