Lily tried to take it all in with one sweeping glance. “It’s bigger than I thought it would be—”

“Mama, look at all these gorgeous earrings,” Holly interrupted from across the store.

“Granny Hayes makes those,” Sally said. “She also crochets the hats and shawls spread out on that old buffet. Oh, and she was delighted with all those gowns and the underwear I took out to her.”

“Who is Granny Hayes? Am I kin to her?” Holly asked.

“Why would you ask that?” Sally took a pair of earrings off the rack and held them up to Holly’s ears.

“Because Mama said once that there’s lots of folks in this town that are kin to other people in some way.” Holly looked at her reflection in the tabletop mirror and shook her head. “I like some of the others better.”

“No, honey, as far as I know, you aren’t related to Granny Hayes. She lives out in the country in an old log cabin. I actually went out and checked on her since she missed church. She had a head cold and didn’t feel like saddling up Dusty.”

“She’s got a horse?” Holly’s eyes lit up. “I always wanted a pony.”

“Dusty isn’t a horse, darlin’,” Lily chuckled. “Dusty is an old gray mule, and she’s been riding him to church since I was a little girl.”

“I want to meet Granny Hayes and learn how to make earrings like these with feathers on them,” Holly said. “Can I have a pair today to wear to school tomorrow for my first day, Mama?”

“Pick out your favorite ones,” Sally said. “I’ll give them to you as a present to celebrate you moving to Comfort.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lily whispered.

“I want to,” Sally said in a low tone. “It’s free advertising. If the other girls like them, they’ll come in and buy some for themselves.”

Holly looked over at her mother. “Please? I love this pair with turquoise stones and feathers. I’ll wear my new jacket and boots that I got for Christmas, and I’ll pull my hair up in a ponytail and—”

“All right! All right!” Lily laughed.

“Thank you, Mama,” Holly said. “And thank you, Sally. I can’t wait to wear them.” She held them up to her ears in front of the mirror. “I just love them. They look like something Taylor Swift would wear.”

“Come see the rest of the shop,” Sally said. “The clothing room is through here, and then the furniture is in the back room.”

“Good Lord! How big is this place?” Lily asked.

“The front door opens on one block, and the back door is all the way to the alley,” Sally answered. “It started off years ago as three stores. I bought each piece of property as it came up for sale and expanded. As you can well see, I need help.” She led the way to the next room. “Now,” she whispered, “do you think there might be something between you and Mack?”

“Holy hell, Sally!” Lily gasped. “I’ve only been home a few days. We’re barely even roommates.”

“I believe in love at first sight,” Sally said.

“If that was the case, then I would have fallen in love with Mack when we were about three years old. That’s my first memory—of being in church with him and Adam.” Lily fingered a lovely lace shawl that had to date back fifty years or more.

“Adam,” Sally sighed. “Now that was one sexy boy.”

“I always thought he was fake and kind of full of himself,” Lily said.

“Yeah, but he’s so pretty.” Sally fanned herself with her hand.

“I had a pretty man, and look where it got me,” Lily said. “I don’t know that I could ever trust another of that kind.”

“Me, either, darlin’,” Sally said, “but I believe that Mack is really trustworthy.”

“Then why haven’t you asked him out?” Lily asked.

“No sparks,” Sally said. “If I can’t have electricity and chemistry, I’ll stay single. I had the ho-hum marriage, and it just didn’t work for me.”

Looking back, Lily could say that her marriage hadn’t been ho-hum, at least not at first, but in all honesty, she had to admit that the romance had died several years before Wyatt said he’d found another woman.

Lily could hardly wait that evening to get up to her room and dive into the journal again. The pages were so old that they felt as if they could crumble in her hands, so she turned them carefully. The ink had faded in some places more than others, and she had to get the bedside lampshade adjusted just right to see the words clearly.

Matilda Smith Bedford, June 1870

Lily glanced back over the last pages she’d read and realized that she’d turned two pages at once. She read those before she went on to what Matilda had written.

This entry was dated May 1, 1865:

This is my first time to write in this journal. I feel like I should continue Mama’s path, but there’s so much to write that I don’t quite know where to begin. I found this journal among Mama’s possessions, and it broke my heart to read what she’d written, but I was glad to know those things since she didn’t talk about the past. My stepfather, Everett, and my mama, Ophelia, died last month. I felt like life had given me a second chance when Mama married Everett, and we finally got to move away from Uncle Walter. That was the most miserable year of my entire life. I felt so sorry for Mama, working her fingers to the bone sewing every day, and then having to give her money to Walter. Everett was a good, kind man who loved my mother, and she had good years with him before they passed from the fever. I got the news by telegram, and Henry and I traveled to Georgia with my two young children to take care of their affairs. I wept for days because Mama had never gotten to lay eyes on her grandchildren, and Jenny, with her pale blue eyes and dark hair, looks so much like her.

Lily’s first tear fell on the page and blurred the ink on the last word. She grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped her wet cheeks as she mourned for Ophelia, who had died before she met her grandchildren. Lily regretted not bringing the kids to see their grandparents more often than she did. They only lived a couple of hours away, but somehow every weekend had been filled with events. Those were excuses, not reasons, especially in the summertime, she reminded herself as she went on reading.