Kilt at the Highland Games by Kaitlyn Dunnett

Maine to recuperate, never intending to stay longer than a few months.
    Funny how life worked out.
    â€œSixth. Let me see.” Patsy’s brow creased in thought. “That would be the candy anniversary. That’s the traditional gift, anyway. I’m not in favor of that new list someone or other came up with.”
    â€œWhy? What does the updated version say people should give on the sixth anniversary?”
    â€œWood.” Patsy made a face. “Boring.”
    Liss had to agree, although given that she was married to a professional custom woodworker, she wouldn’t mind if Dan was even now making her a new bookcase or a magazine rack or even a set of TV tables.
    â€œFeeling better?” Patsy asked.
    â€œYes, thank you. Although I still wish I knew where Angie and her children are.”
    Patsy’s voice sounded a tad too hearty when she replied. “Maybe you’ll hear from her this year, too. Nothing to stop her from putting a card in the mail, is there? Wherever she is, there’s got to be a post office.”
    Liss brightened a bit at the thought. “You’re right. Why, I might have a card from her as early as today or tomorrow. She always sends them well ahead of time. I kidded her about that once—told her it must be because she didn’t really remember the exact date. She said she knew what it was, all right. She figured she was doing me a favor by sending her card early, as a reminder so that Dan wouldn’t forget.”
    â€œThat sounds like her.” Patsy chuckled.
    â€œI wonder . . . do you think Angie’s husband used to forget their anniversary?”
    â€œNo idea, hon. She’s never talked about him, has she?”
    â€œNot to you, either?”
    â€œNever, although I’ve got to say she does have strong opinions on what makes a marriage work.” Patsy shook her head. “Wasted on me, of course, since I never saw the sense in being saddled with a husband in the first place.”
    Now that Liss thought about it, she realized that Angie had always been after her to make more time for herself and Dan, even when that meant neglecting their businesses for a day or two. What kind of marriage had Angie had?
    Liss swallowed hard to rid herself of a new lump in her throat.
    â€œI thought Angie and I were friends,” she whispered. “I don’t understand how she could just take off like that, or how she can stay away when she must know we’re all worried about her and the kids.”
    â€œI’m sure she has her reasons.” Patsy administered a brisk pat to Liss’s shoulder as she rose to tend to a new customer waiting at the counter. “And I’ll bet good money she sends you that anniversary card. Likely it’s already in the mail.”
    â€œThanks, Patsy.”
    Patsy shrugged her bony shoulders. “She’s my friend, too.”

Chapter Six
    T uesday started out as an ordinary day. Liss left the Emporium at ten to walk the short distance along Pine Street to the post office on the corner of Pine and Ash. There was no door-to-door delivery in Moosetookalook. Collecting the mail from her post office box was a daily ritual six mornings a week.
    Her mind on other things, Liss tugged on the post office door. When it wouldn’t open, she was momentarily stymied. Only belatedly did she notice the handwritten sign taped to the other side of the glass.
    CLOSED TODAY. BROKEN WINDOW. SORRY.
    â€œBroken—?” Her gaze darted to the expanse of glass to the right of the door, but it appeared to be intact. It had even been washed in the not-too-distant past.
    Puzzled, Liss circled to her left. She found the explanation along the side of the post office, where a second large window faced the section of Pine Street that ran west from the town square. It had been blocked off with a large sheet of plywood, but Liss could imagine the mess shattered glass must have made inside. If the window had been