Shear Trouble by Elizabeth Craig

people, and the conversation after a bit rose to a chatty volume. Meadow quickly homed in on the food and there was quite a bit of it and it was fairly heavy in nature—ham biscuits and pimento cheese sandwiches, potato salad, egg salad, ham salad, pasta salad. And cakes. “I feel like I’m on a picnic!” said Meadow, trying unsuccessfully to hide her delight. She took a big bite of an angel food cake. “These are June Bug’s. I can tell. That June Bug does beat all. That little woman can flat cook!
And
she’s a fantastic quilter. And modest as all get-out. If I’d that much talent, I’d be yelling out my accomplishments from the rooftops.”
    Beatrice was sipping from a glass of iced tea when she noticed someone else coming through the door intothe crowded living room. “Isn’t that John?” she asked, leaning forward so that Meadow could hear her over the din. “The man who wants to date Martha?”
    “You mean the man who wants to
marry
Martha,” corrected Meadow stoutly. She squinted across the room. “Yes, that’s he. I’m sure that Martha won’t be any too pleased to see him here. She was certainly interested in shooing him away at any opportunity.”
    She and Beatrice gaped as Martha spotted John, burst into tears, and threw herself into his arms. “Well, that’s certainly a change,” muttered Meadow, blinking.
    Beatrice witnessed a very satisfied expression cross John’s lean face. A sort of fierce, protective pride. Yes, he’d been waiting for that particular change for a very long time. What did it feel like to wait and wait and wait for someone who couldn’t care less? Who dated others? Who was dismissive? And then what was it like when she finally came around and ran into your arms? Could a person possibly kill for that feeling? Had John gotten rid of Jason Gore to finally win Martha?
    Meadow nudged her. “There’s Eric.” She bobbed her head in the direction of the food. Eric Gore stood near the table, holding a glass plate with only a little bit of fruit on it. He glanced awkwardly around the room as if not sure who to talk to.
    “He’s acting as if he doesn’t know anyone here,” murmured Beatrice. “But it’s his brother’s funeral.”
    “He hasn’t exactly spent a lot of time hanging out in Dappled Hills,” said Meadow. “He’s sort of got issues. He probably
doesn’t
know anyone here. Maybe he knows Martha. But Martha is a bit busy right now.”
    Beatrice looked back over at Martha, who was still crying heartily in John’s arms. “Maybe I’ll go over and chat with Eric for a while.” It might be a way to get some information. Besides, it always made her uncomfortable to see
others
uncomfortable.
    “Good idea. I’m going to see if there’s enough food for me to have seconds.” Meadow sidled over to the table of food. “Oh no—here comes Miss Sissy. Better eat before she gets over there. She’s sure to wipe out everything on the table.”
    “Hi, I’m Beatrice Coleman,” said Beatrice, extending her hand to Eric. He switched his plate of fruit to his other hand to shake, giving Beatrice a grateful smile in the process. “I hear you’re Jason’s brother.”
    “His half brother, yes,” said Eric automatically. Beatrice felt almost as though he were trying to add some distance between himself and Jason. He set down his plate of fruit, putting his napkin carefully on top of it as if he’d suddenly lost his appetite. “And his last living relative.”
    “I’m very sorry for your loss,” said Beatrice. “It must have been a tremendous shock, losing him so suddenly.”
    Eric nodded absently. He said, “Beatrice. Weren’tyou . . . didn’t I hear that you were the one who discovered Jason? At the shop?”
    “That’s right,” she said quietly. She cleared her throat and glanced around the room. No one was looking in their direction or seemed even vaguely interested in giving their condolences to Jason’s one remaining family member. It just seemed