Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(10)

"Then they should have approached the council."

"Which I did, Your Honor." Charlotte spoke before she could stop herself. "I beg your pardon, Judge Robson," she said, feeling she couldn't let her nerve fail her now. "Both Mr. Rhodes and I attended several council meetings, but to no avail. Mayor Benson said there are no funds to establish a health clinic, but—"

"This isn't the time to discuss the merits of a medical clinic in Cedar Cove."

"Yes, Your Honor," Charlotte murmured, properly chastised. Ben gave her an encouraging smile.

The prosecutor in the case seemed disinclined to send them to jail, Charlotte noted gratefully. He made a few comments and sat back down. Sharon Castor was on her feet again.

"You can save your breath, Ms. Castor. I've made my decision."

The attorney slowly sat down.

"It appears to me that the five of you were trying to make public your case for a health clinic."

Charlotte nodded and noticed the others did, too.

"Your plan has apparently worked. Half the town is here to support you. If anyone from council is in attendance, I sincerely hope they are taking detailed notes. I don't see that anything useful will be served by fining five senior citizens who were on a mission to make Cedar Cove a better place. If I could have your word of honor that you will not assemble again without the necessary permit, then I'd be willing to dismiss all charges."

Charlotte and the others were quick to comply.

As soon as the charges were dismissed, the courtroom erupted into applause. As they walked out, Charlotte and her friends were given a heroes' reception. They were free, one and all.

Before they left the courthouse, Charlotte and Ben personally thanked Sharon and every person who'd come to their support. She was astonished their case had generated so much interest in the community. All this time Charlotte hadn't spoken about her court date because she didn't want to bother her family or friends with her problems. It was a strong affirmation of the community's affection and respect that so many people were there today.

Ben drove her back to the house. "I had no idea all those people knew about this," she told him as he held the car door for her.

"I didn't either," Ben said.

"I suspect it was Grace who rallied everyone on our behalf."

"The next time I'm in the library, I'm going to thank her all over again."

"I will, too." Charlotte had every intention of letting Olivia know what a wonderful job Grace had done.

"You are much loved in this community, Charlotte Jefferson," Ben said as they mounted her front-porch steps. He carried her small suitcase, which he'd remembered to remove from the trunk.

"I am honored so many of my friends took time out of their busy days and came to court," she murmured, still a little overwhelmed.

"There's someone else you should include on the list of people who love you," Ben said. He sat down on the porch swing while she rummaged in her large purse, searching for the house keys.

"And who would that be?" she asked, thinking she might have stuck the key chain in her overnight bag.

"That would be me."

Charlotte froze. Ben had just declared his love—or so it seemed—and at the most ridiculous of times. She turned to face him. "Are you saying you're in love with me, Ben Rhodes?"

"I am." He looked at her directly, meeting her eyes. "The fact is, Charlotte, I'm wondering if you share my feelings."

He didn't know? He hadn't guessed? This was indeed news. With her keys clenched in her hands, she triumphantly lifted them from her purse. "As a matter of fact, I'm head over heels in love with you and have been for quite a while," she said bluntly. Having admitted her feelings, she blushed and quickly added, "Would you care for a glass of lemonade to celebrate our victory?" She opened the front door.

"Don't mind if I do." Ben followed her into the house. "I just might steal a kiss while I'm at it."

"And I just might let you," Charlotte said with a smile.

Five

The alarm went off and Grace Sherman glanced at the clock radio on the bedside table. 7:00 a.m. Her one day of the work week to sleep in, and she'd forgotten to turn off the alarm the night before. With the new spring schedule, the library didn't open until eleven on Wednesdays. But staying in bed now that she was awake seemed pointless. Sighing, she tossed aside the covers, then sat up and slipped her feet into slippers. She quickly made the bed.

Dan, her husband of more than thirty years, had been dead for some time, and she had the entire bed to herself, but she continued to sleep on one half, never disarranging the other. Old habits were persistent. Habits like waking early. Her daily routine gave her structure and comfort in a life that was increasingly out of control.

As little as three years ago, everything had seemed so normal. Her marriage wasn't particularly happy, but it wasn't unhappy, either. Her life was comfortable. Predictable. Then Dan had disappeared. For an entire year she'd lived in a state of suspension, not knowing what had happened to him, where he'd gone or who he was with. When she least expected it, just when she'd adjusted to the fact that he must be with someone else, Dan's body was discovered. He'd died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.