“I never thought I’d wake up to an article implying that Cherokee art, pain-relieving CBD products, and a bookstore display window featuring novels about powerful women would be construed as immoral. To call this satanic is absurd.” She looked at Hester. “Honey, I didn’t start this fight, and I wish those women had never darkened my door. But look at the books. They’re worth the fight.”
“When Jasper read Fahrenheit 451 last year, he underlined specific passages,” Hester said in a hushed voice. “He showed me the one about the woman who stays inside her burning house because she won’t leave her books. I’ll never forget that scene because that woman reminds me of you, Nora. Even though you know what it’s like to be burned, I can still see you staying with your books.”
“Not me. I’m done with fire.” Nora put her arm around Hester’s waist. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out. It might get worse before it gets better, but it’ll work out.”
Staring at the cauldron flames in the window, she desperately wanted to believe her own lie.
Chapter 5
The devil’s agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not?
—Arthur Conan Doyle
Nora didn’t have to do much acting at the Pink Lady Grill the next morning. The hostess put her in a foul mood by asking when she’d be “taking all of them creepy witch books” out of her shop’s display window, so she had no problem starting a fake argument with Estella.
Over coffee and breakfast sandwiches, the two friends continued to bicker, drawing curious glances from the other patrons. By the time Estella stormed out of the diner, she had everyone’s attention.
Unfortunately, their performance didn’t have an effect on Connie Knapp. She spent most of her ninety-minute appointment on the phone with her mother, and whenever Estella managed to engage her in small talk, Connie was friendly but reserved. She talked about her husband, their two children, or happenings at their church while perusing the Thanksgiving recipes and decorating tips in the current issue of Southern Living.
Finally, Estella swung Connie’s chair around to reveal her chic layered bob and caramel highlights. Seeing Connie’s delight in her work, Estella said that she’d read about the Women of Lasting Values in the paper and wanted to learn more about the group. Connie gave her a cold smile and said that joining a church was a good “first step” for any woman. She then paid and left the salon.
“I should have given her a mullet,” Estella told Nora over the phone.
“Or a mohawk,” Nora said, trying to hide her disappointment.
June didn’t fare any better. Her heart-to-heart with Dominque never happened because Dominique was in bed with a head cold.
She wasn’t the only one feeling poorly. The temperature had dropped by twenty degrees and now half the town was sniffling.
Fall had come, ushering in brisk mornings and nights that smelled of woodsmoke. Dried leaves filled gutters and covered lawns. Crushed acorn caps speckled the sidewalks. People sipped pumpkin spice lattes and apple cider.
The Farm to Table Festival organizers couldn’t have asked for better weather. Fridays in September and October always brought visitors to Miracle Springs, but this year, the festival had attracted even more.
“I don’t think that sticks-and-stones article is keeping anyone away,” Sheldon said as he and Nora stocked a table with farm-to-table cookbooks.
The shop was filled with customers. The sight of people holding books, reading books, and pulling books down from the shelves warmed Nora’s heart. “Business has been great this week. Fingers crossed that it stays this way.”
“Cookbooks!” a woman cried as she approached the table. “My kryptonite.”
“You get a coupon for a free dessert at tonight’s Hops and Blues party with every cookbook purchase,” Nora said, indicating the promotional sign in the center of the table. “A food truck called Apple of My Eye is serving desserts, and the owner makes these baked apples filled with oatmeal cinnamon crisp that are to die for.”
The woman let out a little moan. “I’m gonna need two cookbooks because I am not sharing with my husband. He can get his own baked apple.”
Sheldon followed Nora to the checkout counter. “Are you going to the party?”
“I haven’t decided,” said Nora. “It’s been a long week and I wouldn’t mind a night on the sofa with a book. On the other hand, I love burgers and that baked apple is a serious draw. How about you? Are you up for a date night with your boss?”