A crisp, sunny October weekend in Aspen Creek, Wisconsin, usually brought crowds of tourists from Chicago, Minneapolis, and all parts in between. It didn’t bring unexpected calls from Washington, D.C., California, and the Henderson Law Office. Calls that now had her stomach doing crazy cartwheels. What on earth was she going to do? But everything is going to be fine, Lord. It’s going to be fine, right? She surveyed her bookstore, breathing in the beloved scents of books, dark-roast coffee and apricot tea as she walked to the back, where her friends were already settled in an eclectic mix of comfy upholstered chairs and rockers. Their voices fell silent as three pairs of worried eyes looked up at her. Their concern was so palpable that she forced herself to dredge up a nonchalant smile. “How’s the coffee? Is it better this time? I bought a new fair trade brand and—” “The question is, how are you?” Olivia Lawson, the oldest book-club member at fifty-six, had been an adjunct professor of literature at an exclusive private college in Chicago before walking away from the rat race and moving to Aspen Creek to teach at the community college.
