Page 3 of Your Heart & Mine

"Yes, ma'am," Harper repeated, the weight of the reason for her trip falling back onto her shoulders.

Cam put an arm around Harper and hugged her to him. "Would you have some coffee available?" Cam shot a charming smile at the tiny woman. "And I hear there is something called 'apple dapple' that is not to be missed."

Mrs. Overbay's bushy grey eyebrows almost hit her hairline when she heard Cam's smooth British tones. "And who's this, Harpie?"

Harper cringed a little at the old nickname. She'd always hated it. "This is my friend, Cameron Thomas. He's come to help me with everything. Cam, this is Mrs. Overbay. She's owned this store as long as I can remember."

"Fifty years." The elderly lady's back straightened with pride. "Nice to meet ya, young man. Welcome to the mountains."

Cam gave her a courtly little bow and she tittered at him. "Go on with you! I'll get y'all some coffee and cake and get you on your way. The weather's getting iffy."

"Thanks, Mrs. Overbay. We appreciate it," Harper called as the woman disappeared through a doorway into the small, attached area that had several tables and chairs. At first light, they would be filled with farmers, catching up and trading information and gossip before the day's work.

Before they'd barely even had time to look around, Mrs. Overbay was back with two steaming cups of lidded coffee and a white baker's bag. "What do we owe you, love?" Cam fished for his wallet as Harper took the proffered goodies.

Harper thought she might have seen a slight blush crawling up the septuagenarian's wrinkled face. "Phsst!" She waved away Cam's question. "I put some extra apple dapple in there for your mama, Harpie. You give her that and tell her we're thinking about y'all."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll do that," Harper's eyes welled with tears at the woman's kindness.

As they climbed back into Cam's silver Audi and she sorted their coffee and apple dapple, her chest tightened at Mrs. Overbay's sweet gesture. Though he had been elected mayor for several terms, she knew her father was not well-liked by many in the county. He was proud and boastful and liked to throw his weight around. Her mama, however, was loved by everyone.

Jonah Carrington had brought Mitzi Baumann up from Mississippi after college. She was a Southern belle through and through and had a heart as wide as her Mississippi drawl that she never did lose even after the thirty plus years she had been living in the Southwest Virginia mountains.

Where her daddy liked to take things over and tell people what was going to happen, her mama volunteered to help people where they were. She started a women's group at the First Methodist Church that did nothing but try to help the poverty-stricken population in the area, which, unfortunately, was significant. They did a free dinner every Thursday in the church hall, ran a Christmas drive every year for underprivileged children, and had an ongoing class to help people study for their GED.

Her daddy had often scoffed at her mama's 'good deed gene' saying people needed to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and make something of themselves, not rely on handouts. Her mama would just smile her sweet smile at him and keep doing what she was doing.

Harper's brow creased. She realized she hadn't actually spoken to her mama since the night her sister, Brenna, had called her with the news. That evening was forever etched in her memory. She and her coworkers had been celebrating her achievement of becoming the youngest partner in the history of Carolina Realty, at Raleigh's iconic Angus Barn, when the call had abruptly shattered the fun festivities. She’d never forget her baby sister’s distraught voice over the phone overlaying the tinkling of glasses and conversation around her.

“Harper!” Her name was all she initially made out of Brenna’s hysterical crying. She quickly moved to the edge of the private dining area to try to hear better.

“Brenna, calm down. I can’t understand you. What’s happened?” Harper implored her sister.

“Harper, you have to c-c-come h-h-home. Now! Daddy’s g-g-gone!” Brenna stuttered through her tears.

Her words didn’t compute. “What? Where did he go? What are you talking about?”

“He’s dead, Harper!” Brenna cried. “Daddy’s dead.”

Harper felt the blood drain from her face and ice skitter down her spine. She reached out blindly for something to grab onto to hold herself upright. There was nothing. She felt herself slowly slide down the wall until she was sprawled on the floor. Cam had been at her side in a moment.

“Harper, what’s wrong, love? Do I need to call 911?” Cam grasped her shoulder as he squatted beside her. Harper couldn’t seem to form words. Where had all the air gone? She just stared at him and then back to the phone uncomprehendingly. The tinny sound of Brenna sobbing rang in her ears.

Cam grabbed the phone out of her hand. “Hello? Who is this?” She heard Cam demand of the caller.

“B-B-Brenna. It’s Brenna,” she hiccupped.

“Brenna, pet, what’s happened?” Cam’s voice softened when he recognized the name, and he brought his most soothing English tones to bear. “Do you need help?”

Before Brenna could answer, Harper’s voice returned. “My father is dead,” she said in a low, flat tone. She looked up into Cam’s face, her hazel eyes dark and almost blank. “I need to go home.”

Chapter three

Family Grief

Inhisdarksuit,Wyck blended in with the shadows of the trees that lined the small cemetery. He'd felt the need to be there, to see her, but didn't want to intrude on the family. Not today.

Generations of Carringtons were buried here. For a bit of privacy, he and Harper used to come out here and simply sit on a blanket and look out over the valley, sipping at a proffered bottle of wine from Jonah's wine fridge or some apple pie moonshine he'd bought off a friend. A smile tugged at his lips at the thought of Harper's first taste of the homemade brew.

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