Road Trip Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Road Trip!

  Copyright © 2012 Annie’s.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. For information address Annie’s, 306 East Parr Road, Berne, Indiana 46711-1138.

  The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  _______________________________________

  Library of Congress-in-Publication Data

  Road Trip! / by Jan Fields

  p. cm.

  I. Title

  2012907191

  ________________________________________

  AnniesMysteries.com

  800-282-6643

  Annie’s Attic Mysteries

  Series Creator: Stenhouse & Associates, Ridgefield, Connecticut

  Series Editors: Ken and Janice Tate

  Dedication

  To the cancer survivors in my family: my sister Becky and my father, Wm. David Martin, and to my Aunt Mary Anne.

  Prologue

  She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.

  ~ Proverbs 31: 13 ~

  Longfellow College

  May 7, 1946

  Dear Betsy,

  I was very pleased and honored to have received in the mail this week the invitation to your wedding. I would love to come and be part of your special day, but unfortunately, I will not be in Maine on that date. I will be teaching a course this summer at Berea College in Kentucky, and will not be back here until the new term starts at Longfellow this fall.

  It has been a pleasure to have you in my classes, and though I understand why you will not be able to return, I hope you will continue to pursue your needlework, in whatever form that may be, and that the instruction you’ve received in the fiber arts will inspire you to continued excellence in the field. Appreciation for the artistic qualities of handmade articles is growing, even in this age of machines, and you have a great deal to offer in both the design aspect and the execution of those designs. As a married woman, and I’m sure at some point in the future, a busy mother, always remember to take time to nurture yourself and your own talents. Your family will be all the better for it.

  Perhaps when I return to Maine this fall, we will have a chance to get together in Stony Point. I appreciated the note you enclosed to tell me about your future plans. I would love to meet your new husband and see the house the two of you are planning to buy. With a name like “Grey Gables,” it sounds very grand!

  I hope the small gift I have sent with this letter will provide a reminder of our friendship, and that as Mr. and Mrs. Charles Holden, you and your husband will have many happy years ahead. Please continue to write and let me know how you are doing.

  Warm regards,

  Lily Cornette

  1

  Annie climbed out of her beloved Malibu, snagging her project bag on the way. Her poor bag was the flattest it had ever been. In the last few weeks, she’d really thrown herself into her spring cleaning and preparing all the flower beds around Grey Gables. As much as she’d enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment from finishing so many spring chores, she found she missed her crocheting terribly. She hoped the Hook and Needle Club meeting would inspire her to jump into something new.

  A playful breeze tossed strands of fine blond hair into her face. Annie tucked them back behind her ear. She liked the way Maine air was always in motion, and she even forgave it for making her feel a bit rumpled. By now, back in Brookfield, Texas, late spring would already be settling in like a brooding hen, stifling everyone with the heat.

  Looking over the cars parked in front of the row of Main Street shops, Annie saw Alice’s jaunty convertible. She smiled as she noticed that Alice had the top down. At least she could count on not being the only one with unkempt hair at the meeting.

  She crossed the sidewalk quickly and hurried into A Stitch in Time. The cheerful tinkle of the bell over the door greeted her. The rest of the group, seated in the circle of cozy stuffed chairs, turned toward her with bright smiles. As usual, Gwendolyn Palmer and Stella Brickson continued knitting even as they looked up and smiled. Annie suspected they had some kind of unspoken contest to see which of them could keep knitting no matter what happened around them.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Gwen said dramatically, needles clicking in rhythm with her words. “Mary Beth totally refused to tell us her news until you arrived, and I think she’s about to explode.”

  “She is looking a little bulgy around the eyes,” Peggy added as she ran a hand over a small crib quilt she was working on.

  Mary Beth Brock just shook her head and patted her cheeks. “Any bulging is the result of a few too many muffins from The Cup & Saucer. And I believe I can blame you for that, young lady!”

  “Don’t let her fool you,” Kate Stevens, Mary Beth’s right hand in the shop, chimed in. “She’s been nearly vibrating with excitement all morning.” Then Kate turned to look at Mary Beth with a sly smile. “Unless you want me to tell them.”

  Mary Beth pointed at her. “You do, and you’re fired.”

  “She’s bluffing,” Gwen said. “She could never get anyone else in here who can crochet like you.”

  Kate blushed slightly and ducked her head, reminding Annie again of the slightly shy woman she’d met when she first moved to Stony Point. It seemed like an eternity since Annie had inherited Grey Gables from her grandmother, Elizabeth Holden, but it had only been a couple of years. Gwen was right, Kate did amazing work, almost entirely her own designs, but she always seemed surprised and a little embarrassed when anyone mentioned her talent.

  Stella Brickson, the matriarch of their group, laid her knitting down precisely in the center of her lap. This grabbed everyone’s attention since Stella never stopped knitting. Then she looked around the group and lifted one eyebrow slightly when she got to Mary Beth. “I believe we’re all here now. Perhaps we can hear your news?”

  “OK,” Mary Beth said with an elfin grin. “I know most of you are familiar with the various needlework guilds—right?”

  Stella cleared her throat. “I have belonged to The Knitting Guild Association for a number of years now.”

  “And I know about the Crochet Guild of America,” Annie added. “Several ladies in my church back home were members. They went to the convention every year. They were always trying to get me to join, but I was always too busy at the dealership with Wayne.” Annie allowed herself an instant to remember her beloved late husband’s face, but she didn’t give in to melancholy. “Besides, I guess I thought of myself as more of a dabbler.”

  “Dabblers are welcome too,” Mary Beth said. “Anyway, this year there will be a totally new convention, and several of the guilds are coming together for this event. The CGOA and the TKGA regularly do combined events, but this year, the National NeedleArts Association is joining them. And they’re introducing something amazing at this convention to mark the occasion.”

  “Which is … ?” Gwen coaxed.

  Mary
Beth smiled. “The Golden Needle Company is sponsoring a special award this year for the artist who has done the most to innovate needle-art design. And they intend to posthumously honor Stony Point’s own Betsy Holden. I’ve talked to the company president, and I have known their main publicity rep for years. They’re going to have a huge display of Betsy’s work and have asked to borrow the cross-stitch portrait of Stella.” She turned to Annie earnestly. “That is, if you’ll allow it. Don’t worry, I’ll keep a tight watch on how they protect it.” Then she paused again, taking a deep breath as if she might shout this last part. Instead she said it in a single burst of breath. “And they want to have Annie speak at the ceremony!”

  At that, Mary Beth sat back and gazed around at the surprised faces. Even Stella looked a bit startled.

  “Where will the convention be?” Annie asked after a moment of stunned silence. “And when?”

  “That’s the best part,” Kate said. “Fort Worth, Texas! You can combine business and pleasure. And we thought maybe your daughter could come and see Betsy honored too!”

  Annie sat back. She loved the idea of sitting in the audience with LeeAnn and the twins. The idea of actually speaking to that audience was another thing altogether. Still, how could she pass up a chance to help her grandchildren get to know more about their great-great-grandmother and her amazing talent? “I think that’s wonderful.” Then she realized Mary Beth hadn’t answered her question about when. Before she could ask again, Mary Beth spoke again.

  “And that’s not all.” Mary Beth grinned mischievously at Kate. “I haven’t even told Kate this part. The convention will also feature a fashion contest for original crochet, knit and needlework designed clothing. The cash prize for the winner is quite impressive, not to mention some great goodies donated by various companies. I entered one of Kate’s designs—that lovely sleeveless dress with the matching military-style jacket!”

  Kate looked completely shocked. Before she could stammer a response, Mary Beth added, “And the dress is a finalist! All of the finalists will show off their designs at a special show during the convention.”

  Kate shook her head slowly. “I really appreciate your faith in my work, but I can’t possibly afford a plane ticket to go to Texas. Vanessa wants to go to drama camp this summer, and I’ve been saving every bit of money I can for that.”

  “That’s the great part,” Mary Beth said. “No plane tickets. We’re taking my SUV and making it a road trip. It’ll take a few days more, but we’ll have a great time. We’ll need to leave two weeks from today.”

  “So soon? Who will watch the shop?” Kate still looked a little stunned.

  “My niece, Amy,” Mary Beth said. “She volunteered since this is a pretty big deal. After all, not only was A Stitch in Time Betsy Holden’s hometown stitchery store—but I’m also totally convinced we’re the only shop where the most talented crochet designer around displays her work.”

  Kate blushed again. “I don’t know if I should leave Vanessa alone for that long.”

  “I’m sure Harry’s parents would love for her to stay with them,” Gwen suggested, referring to Kate’s ex-in-laws. “I ran into them last week at a fundraiser for the library, and they nearly talked my ear off about Vanessa.”

  “Well,” Kate said, clearly weakening, “you’re probably right about that.”

  “So that’ll be Kate, Annie, and me in the SUV,” Mary Beth said. “I’ve got room for one more. Who else wants to come? Alice?”

  “Sounds like fun, but I’ll have to pass,” Alice said. “The summer people are starting to plump up our population nicely. I don’t want to miss these prime Divine Décor and Princessa jewelry days. I already have a long list of parties booked.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll need to pass too,” Gwen said. “John doesn’t look like a worrier, but he is. If I took a road trip to Texas without him, the whole staff at the bank would never speak to me again.”

  Peggy sighed. “I would love to go, but I could never get so much time off at the diner this time of year. And I couldn’t pass up the tips either.”

  Stella reached out and patted Peggy on the arm. “Don’t worry; we’ll take lots of photos,” she said.

  “We?” Mary Beth echoed. Everyone stared at Stella in surprise. She was the one person Annie thought would never come on this trip. Stella just didn’t seem like someone looking for an adventure. And she never went anywhere without her driver, Jason.

  “Well, yes,” Stella said, her eyes sparkling. “I assume you don’t mind if I come along? I love the Knitting Guild events, and a combined convention like this sounds like fun.”

  “Fun? OK, lady,” Alice said with mock sternness, “who are you, and what have you done with Stella Brickson?”

  Stella looked at Alice, her normal stern expression back. “I know all of you think of me as set in my ways, but I’m always interested in learning new things about my craft.” She held up her knitting needles, a beautiful swatch of knitted lace hanging from them.

  “No one would doubt your skill at knitting,” Mary Beth said soothingly, “nor your joy in it.”

  “I should hope not,” Stella said with a small sniff. Then she bent her head over her work and began knitting furiously while she spoke again in a softer voice: “Also, Betsy was once my closest friend. I may have acted for a time like I forgot that, but I certainly would not want to miss seeing her honored.”

  The group fell silent a moment, no one knowing what to say in response to that. Stella had given Betsy the cold shoulder for years, though they all knew Betsy had never stopped caring for her dear friend—the cross-stitch portrait of Stella on the porch of Grey Gables was proof of that.

  Finally Mary Beth broke the silence, her tone almost overly cheery. “So our group is set. We’re going to have a terrific time!”

  Annie looked at Stella’s bent head. I certainly hope so, she thought.

  Peggy had to rush back to the diner not long after the big announcement about the convention, but she caught Annie before she left. “I’ve been working on this crib quilt, and I’m almost done. I know I can finish it by the time you leave. I want to give it to your church group back in Texas for the missionary cupboard. It’s not crocheted or knitted, but I used cuddly soft flannels and fleeces. Do you think they’d want it?”

  Annie gave Peggy a quick hug. “I noticed the quilt when I came in today. It’s beautiful. They would really appreciate it. And you’ve given me a wonderful idea for my next project too.” Annie hadn’t made any baby blankets for her church’s missions ministry back in Brookfield, Texas, in months. She had donated the use of her Texas home for visiting missionaries, and she had tried to stay as connected as possible with her church family back in Brookfield. She was certain she could crochet a small blanket before she left, though it would need to be a simple design. Still, if she found the perfect yarn, it would make even a simple design special.

  She drifted over to the cubbies where Mary Beth stored soft baby yarns. “Are you working on another baby blanket?” Alice asked from behind her.

  “I haven’t been working on anything lately,” Annie admitted, “but if I’m making a road trip to Texas, I thought I’d try to bring a baby blanket along with me. I always like picturing young missionary couples having a soft blanket from home to wrap their little ones in.”

  Alice looked surprised. “Do you have time to do a whole blanket that fast?”

  Annie nodded. “I think so. I’m finally done with my spring chores, so I can do some marathon crocheting.”

  Mary Beth’s voice sounded behind them. “I thought your time would be taken up writing a speech about Betsy.”

  Annie and Alice turned to see Mary Beth grinning. Annie moaned. “Don’t remind me,” she said. “The thought of speaking in front of a group scares me silly. I don’t suppose there will be a lot of people?”

  “I don’t know,” Mary Beth said hesitantly. “Maybe not. Oh, I had something else I wanted to ask you. Do you have any other cross-stitch th
ings by Betsy at Grey Gables? Something the convention could borrow for the display?”

  Annie nodded. “I have a few things out and more in the attic.”

  “Oh, the attic,” Alice said, grinning. “Want me to come over and help you bring them down? I hate to miss a chance to stumble across a mystery.”

  Annie laughed. “They aren’t that heavy, and I’m sure we’ve cleared all the mysteries out of the attic.” She reached out to rap her knuckles against the wood of the yarn cubby. “Knock on wood! I’d love for you to come over anyway. After all the cleaning I’ve been doing, it would be nice to have someone besides me see it before the house becomes buried in cat hair again.”

  “Now, I’ve been in Grey Gables a million times,” Alice said. “You never let it get covered in cat hair. It’s always lovely. You even managed to keep it tidy during all the renovating.”

  “Oh, now I know you’re just being kind. And clearly you’ve never sat on the sofa in black pants during shedding season,” Annie said. “Mike Malone at the hardware store says he’s building a retirement fund just from lint brush sales to me.”

  Alice joined in the laughter, but then yelped when she looked up at the clock on Mary Beth’s wall. “Oh, I have to run. I have a Divine Décor party this afternoon. Can I come by Grey Gables in the morning for the attic excursion?”

  Annie nodded. “Sounds great. I’ll have the kettle on.”

  “And I’ll bring breakfast—something warm and yummy.”

  “Now that I can look forward to.” Alice’s baked goods were the talk of Stony Point. Alice waved and dashed out of the shop. As Annie watched her friend leave, she thought about the amazing talent crammed in one small Maine town. Alice was an unbelievable baker, Kate designed gorgeous crocheted clothing, and Betsy’s cross-stitch designs were known all over the country. “Maybe it’s something in the water,” Annie said quietly. Then she decided she’d be sure to have a tall glass of it as soon as she got back to Grey Gables.

  2

  As soon as the store was empty of customers, Kate walked over to the yarn cubbies and began straightening them. The feel of soft yarn in her hands usually made her imagination fire with new ideas, but this time she just sorted them mechanically.