Chapter One
The entire town of Normal, Kentucky, had apparently decided my bookstore opening was as important as the county fair.
I’d imagined opening Boone’s Book Nook a thousand different ways, but not one of them included three men arguing over who was going to hold the ceremonial scissors. Sheriff Al Hemmer and Ranger Tucker Pyle were already making my grand opening considerably more complicated than I’d planned.
Al had already insisted I put an alarm on the exit door that was located behind the wardrobe in the children’s section, just in case a child got free and broke out of the bookstore. The thing was so loud when Al tested it that I never wanted to hear it again. I even made a homemade sign that I taped on the door that read DO NOT OPEN.
Poor Watson had run under a bookshelf cubby, and it took me a good hour to find him after the alarm test.
Leaving the three men fuss on the sidewalk seemed best while I stood inside the quiet bookstore I’d spent the past few months turning into exactly what I wanted.
For one last moment before the ribbon was cut and the doors opened, Boone’s Book Nook belonged only to me, I thought.
“And you too,” I whispered. Watson, my orange tabby, wound around my ankles before stretching against my leg, leaving a fresh layer of orange fur on my brown corduroy pants.
“I just brushed you.” I bent down and scooped him up into my arms. His purr rumbled against my chest, nearly drowning out the distant beat of the Normal High School marching band warming up in the grassy median outside.
My gaze drifted around the bookstore.
Morning sunshine came over the mountains of the Daniel Boone National Forest and landed across the display of new releases beneath the hand-painted Boone’s Book Nook sign.
Just a little past there was my most important employee’s usual spot, a round cushion between two ferns where his afternoon naps would probably become part of the store’s daily entertainment.
There was a cozy reading nook near the front window, and it turned out exactly the way I had drawn in the first sketch layout when this was just a dream. Two oversized armchairs I’d rescued from the Tough Nickel faced each other across a weathered round table that already held a stack of mysteries waiting for their next reader.
I couldn’t count the number of evenings I’d spent curled up there with a measuring tape in one hand and a cup of coffee from Trails Coffee in the other as I moved things around in here to make it perfect.
Rows of bookcases stretched toward the back of the shop without blocking the view from the front door. I wanted people to step inside and immediately feel invited to wander.
But in the corner stood my favorite feature.
An antique wardrobe that most people would think was just a piece of furniture until they pulled open the doors.
The bell over the front door jingled before I could admire the wardrobe one more time.
The Laundry Club Ladies swept inside in a colorful blur of cardigan sleeves, coffee cups and excitement. The cool autumn air rushed in. Dry leaves followed them into the shop along with the beat of the marching band’s drums and the scent of roasted almonds drifting across the street from the festival.
“Lord have mercy,” Dottie Swaggert declared as she planted both hands on her hips and slowly turned in a circle. With a cigarette tucked behind her ear, her bright red curls peeked out from under a rhinestone-studded orange baseball cap with a bedazzled yellow maple leaf on the front. “Look at this place. Honey, this bookstore is so pretty it’d make Dolly Parton slap somebody.”
“Good morning to you too.” I laughed.
“It ain’t good mornin’ yet,” Dottie said, pointing her bright-purple-painted fingernail toward the front window. “Not until we get that ribbon cut and keep those three fools from tanglin’ themselves up in that bow outside.”
Mae West Sharp rolled her eyes before she walked over to the bookshelf to straighten a stack of bookmarks.
“Ignore her,” Mae said, giving a slight smile at Tucker, Al, and Alex standing outside. “We’ve got twenty minutes before the ceremony starts and everything is right on schedule.”
“Twenty-two,” Abby Fawn Bonds corrected as she took out her phone and tapped it. Her long brown ponytail swung over one shoulder as she typed. “Hashtag grand opening. Hashtag bookstore dreams. Hashtag this place is adorbs.”
“Thank you,” I told her, touching her arm as I passed by. “Without you and your social media, I’m not sure what I would’ve done.”
Abby smiled.
“These are perfect reading chairs for good posture,” Queenie French said after she’d wandered over toward the pair of reading chairs. She dropped into one and bounced twice. “I said it the day you brought them, and still stand by it,” she announced before stretching both arms toward the ceiling. “These chairs pass the Queenie fitness test.”
“You better watch out,” Dottie snorted. “You might come in here one day and Queenie is doing chair Jazzercise as one of them classes you’re offering.”
“Speaking of classes.” Betts Hager smiled and walked over to me, holding out a to-go cup from Trails Coffee. “When is the book bedazzle class?”
“It’s on here.” Mae grabbed one of the class schedules and wagged it in the air. “Along with sip and paint, granny square crochet night, and blind date with a book.”
“I’m going to do all of them.” Betts clapped her hands together. Watson stretched before he twisted toward Betts where he knows he’ll get a scratch behind the ears.
Dottie wandered toward the front display window and looked outside.
“Sadie, it sure does look like you’ve become the belle of the Bourbon Fall Festival.”
I walked over beside her. Tucker stood on one side of the ribbon adjusting the bow while Sheriff Al Hemmer stood on the other holding the ceremonial scissors. Between them, Preacher Alex was reading from a folded piece of paper, apparently trying to decide where everyone should stand.
“They’re helping,” I said, and kept my mouth shut about how much all three of the single men had been hanging around the last few months.
“They’re competing,” Dottie replied as she folded her arms across her pumpkin T-shirt. She never took her eyes off the three men. “Sugar, when you first rolled into Normal in that cute yellow VW bug, you were greener than the spring grass. Now you’ve got three men circlin’ around this bookstore like buzzards over fresh roadkill and not one of ‘em has enough sense to realize everybody in town’s already noticed.”
“For the love of Pete, Dottie,” Mae sighed. “Leave it alone.”
“Whut? I’m just observin’ the wildlife.” Dottie narrowed her eyes and glared at Mae for a moment before she went back to watch the men. Betts hid her smile while Queenie seemed not to notice any of it.
The soft chime from my phone echoed through the bookstore. I glanced down at the screen.
“It’s time,” I said as my stomach fluttered. I swallowed against the nervous tickle creeping up in my throat and smoothed both hands down the front of my moss-green sweater.
Before anyone could answer, the front door opened again.
Mary Elizabeth Moberly stepped inside. She wore a quilted vest over a pink shirt. Her warm smile settled on me immediately.
“There you are,” she said as she crossed the room and reached both hands toward my face before I had a chance to protest. “Hold still.”
I froze while she tilted my chin toward the window.
“Hmm,” she said and studied me for a second before reaching out her hand towards Mae, her foster-adoptive daughter. Mae slapped something into Mary Elizabeth’s hand. “I thought so.”
“What?” I asked and looked down.
“You’ve smiled every bit of your lipstick off and you’ve got to be looking perfect for the Normal Gazette photos Waldo Willy will be taking of the ribbon-cutting ceremony,” she said and uncapped the lipstick Mae had given her while everyone laughed.
“Now don’t you argue with me,” she said as she carefully freshened up the color on my lips. “Today’s the day you’ve been working toward ever since you got here.”
She brushed an invisible speck from my shoulder before she gently smoothed a strand of my dark hair behind my ear. All the Laundry Club Ladies had moved behind her to watch her doll me all up.
“I remember the first day we met,” she continued, her voice softening. “Your hair was ironed straighter than a fence wire and you wore enough makeup to fill the cosmetic aisle at the pharmacy. Look at you now. All this forest-fresh air has breathed life right into you.”
“I’m proud of you,” she said and gave both my hands a good squeeze.
There was a quick knock on the front door’s glass and Cheryl Paisley was waving and mouthed, it’s time.
Outside, the marching band struck up another song from where they stood behind the crowd.
The Bourbon Fall Festival was already coming to life beneath the brilliant orange and gold leaves lining the grassy median.
I drew in a slow breath and smiled at the women who had become my family.
“Let’s open a bookstore.”
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