But this still had to be dealt with. She felt so sorry for Ell, and a little guilty that she was responsible for George's arrest. There wasn't any doubt in her mind that he would be convicted and would be going to prison for many years . . . perhaps for the rest of his life. It was so sad. Stone Mill wouldn't be the same without George. Andâshe had to admit itâin some perverse way, there would be a hole where Willy had once stood. This wasn't a community that expected violence. George's brother might not have always been a pleasant or a kind person, but he had been a thread that, woven with many others, formed the strong and enduring fabric of the valley.
Having such a large family, Rachel found it hard to imagine what it must be like for Ell, who'd had only her mother, then suddenly found out that she had an uncle she knew and cared for, and then lost him just as quickly. It wasn't fair. Somehow, Rachel would try to see that the young woman had a network of friends and neighbors who would be there for her.
“Good morning,” Rachel said to the figure behind the checkout counter. “Iâ” She broke off in midstatement and stared. She'd expected to find Ell here where she always was, but instead, Blanche Willis was beaming at her. And Blanche wasn't in her wheelchair. With the aid of a walker, she stood behind the cash register, clearly in charge.
“Blanche?” Rachel tried not to stare. “Are you working here?” Clearly, she was. A name tag bearing her photo and stating
Associate
hung on a cord around her neck. And furthermore, Blanche's hair was styled; she wore a hint of makeup and large clip-on earrings.
“This is my second week,” Blanche declared proudly. “I'm part-time; that suits me, four hours a day. My Chelsea, she's coming on for a few hours a week. Of course, she won't be at the register. Stockroom and cleaning for now. She's moving back in with me so we can take turns watching Justin. It didn't work out with that worthless boyfriend. This time, Chelsea's had it with him; she's talking about taking night classes and getting her GED. It's good of Ell to give her a chance here. Nothing like a job to teach a young person responsibility.”
“Wonderful.” Rachel nodded, smiling. “Is Ell here?” She glanced toward the stacks. It was a beehive of activity, customers perusing the books and enjoying coffee in the reading area. She even saw two Amish girls polishing the woodwork on the stage. But she didn't see Ell.
“Upstairs. Getting a book ready to go out. One of those fancy books, going to San Francisco.” A tall woman in designer jeans and a blue T-shirt moved to the counter with two oversized children's books, and Blanche said, “You'll have to excuse me. I can't keep this lady waiting.”
“No, of course not,” Rachel agreed.
She found Ell upstairs, sliding a slim volume into a padded box. “Hi, Rachel,” she said. “Come in, if you can find a place to sit. There. That chair.” She waved to a leather desk chair currently occupied by a familiar-looking kitten. “Just move her,” Ell said.
Rachel scooped up the kitten, the one Blanche had gifted to her. Ell had taken the kitten, relieved that she didn't have to take Sophie. Rachel deposited the fluffy animal onto the floor. The kitten yawned, gave her a curious look, and then dove under the desk after a cat toy shaped like a mouse. “How are you?” Rachel asked as she settled into the chair. “I'm sorry I haven't come by sooner.”
“Busy,” Ell said. “You, too, so I hear.”
“I'm going up to visit George next week. I wondered if you'd like to ride up with me . . . unless you'd rather not . . .”
“Oh, I'll go. Just let me know when. I have a list of questions for him.” Ell sealed the box and added it to a stack of two others. “Thank goodness he thought to leave instructions.” She pointed to a green leather-backed ledger that lay open on the desk. “Really detailed. About what was coming in and where it had to go. The bookstore doesn't make all that much money.” She shrugged. “Okay, so it barely breaks even. The real money is in the rare book business, but I've got a lot to learn before I can start buying. Meanwhile, I have George's client list and . . .” She folded her arms and perched on the corner of the desk. “It's a real bummer, isn't it? Like something out of one of Charles Dickens's novels. Secret heiress. Dastardly deeds.”
Ell sighed again, and Rachel noticed that her eyeliner was smeared just a smidgen, as if she'd been crying. “It's George I'm going to miss. I've loved him for a long time, you know. Not in a creepy way, but . . . like a father. Finding out he was my uncle was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.” She grimaced. “I could have done without all the other drama . . . and without having him go away.”
“He did a terrible thing.”
Ell nodded. “I know. It's hard to imagine, George hurting anyone. But he loves Sophie so much. And if he really thought Willy would . . .” She blinked, and Rachel saw moisture glisten in the young woman's eyes.
Rachel smiled sadly. “You've forgiven him, haven't you?”
“Maybe . . . The Bible says that it's not for us to judge. I know that I pray for him. A lot.”
“Me, too,” Rachel admitted.
“I don't mean to sound callous,” Ell continued, “but it's hard to be grateful to Willy for leaving me all this money when I didn't really feel anything for him. He was okay, never weird or anything. He never made me feel uncomfortable around him, but he wasn't warm and fuzzy, you know?”
“I know.” Rachel waited for a moment while Ell regained her composure. “You're going to keep the bookstore open? For George?”
The girl nodded. “And for me. He signed it over to me when he went to Harrisburg that last time. He knew that I love working here, and I have scads of ideas. I'm opening another shop next door, Ell's Attic. Vintage stuff, some Victorian antiques, but mostly bags, jewelry, and accessories. I love Edwardian stuff. Mom's going to manage the actual store, but I plan to design a Web page and try to do most of the selling on the Internet.”
“You're not considering going away to college? You have the money now.”
She shrugged again and flashed a shy smile. “Not for me. I can afford to hire some educated geeks, but I don't have the time or patience to sit in a classroom somewhere and listen to lectures. I know I'll make mistakes, but I want to try it the hard way. Maybe I've got a little of Willy in me, after all.”
She got up and went to a wooden filing cabinet, pulled open the top drawer, and removed a folder. “George did something else when he was in Harrisburg.” She handed Rachel the folder.
Puzzled, Rachel opened it. Inside was a copy of Rachel's mortgage contract stamped
PAID IN FULL
. “What is this? I don't understand.” Her hands were trembling as she pushed the folder back toward Ell. “I can't accept this.”
“There's a note taped to the back. From George.”
Rachel turned the contract over and found the sheet of velum with George's scrolling handwriting.
My dearest Rachel,
Â
Don't think too badly of me. I know what I've done is unforgivable, but I couldn't bear to see my little Sophie go the way of the others. Accept this small token of my gratitude for what you've done for our town, for my Ell, and for my precious Sophie. I know you'll take good care of them all. And if you're tempted to refuse this offer and try to weasel out of it, which you can't since the loan is already paid off, just consider Sophie a silent partner in your B&B.
Your loving friend,
George
P.S. Sophie likes her chicken breast poached, not baked.