When Grace Sings by Kim Vogel Sawyer

were all excited about someone from Illinois knowing about Grace Notes.”
    She sagged in relief. Grandmother was concerned about Briley Forrester taking advantage of Alexa, and Uncle Clete didn’t seem to trust him. For a moment she’d suspected someone from Arborville had contacted Mom about the handsome reporter staying in the cottage. What to say about him? Mom would worry if she knew how the man’s flirtatiousness had affected her. She chose her words carefully. “So far he seems to be okay. He hasn’t complained about what I’ve served for breakfast, and he pretty much keeps to himself. I think it’ll work all right to have him here. I do miss being in my cottage, though.”
    “I imagine so, after all the work you put into it. But you’ll have it back by Christmas, right?”
    “Yes.” Something occurred to Alexa, and she let out a short huff of irritation. “But we won’t be able to stay out there when you come for Thanksgiving.” Disappointment brought a new threat of tears. She’d anticipated one-on-one time with her mother after their months apart. They’d have time together, but it wouldn’t be the same, staying in the house with Grandmother.
    “Alexa, about Thanksgiving …”
    Alexa swung her legs off the bed and sat up straight. The bear flopped onto its side and lost its hat. “Don’t tell me you aren’t coming after all.”
    “Well, there’s a possibility I’ll need to stay here.”
    “Mom!” Alexa rose and paced the room twice.
    “I’m sorry.” Mom’s contrition did little to soothe Alexa. “You know how short-staffed we are here, and the other lead nurse—Bridget, you’ve met her—has a daughter who’s in the midst of a troublesome pregnancy. The baby is due the first of December, but it could come early. Bridget has asked for emergency release when her daughter goes into labor and for two weeks afterward.”
    Alexa blinked rapidly. She couldn’t fault Bridget’s daughter for wantingher mother with her. But she wanted her mother, too.
I do want my mother. I want my mom and my mother
 … The realization struck like a bolt of lightning. She sank onto the edge of the mattress.
    “If I can’t come for Thanksgiving, I will definitely be there for Christmas. All right?”
    A selfish retort formed on Alexa’s lips—
No, it’s not all right!
—but she held it inside. “I understand. Bridget needs you more than I do, I guess.” Her attempt at a glib tone failed. Only resentment came through. Before Mom could offer a reprimand, Alexa went on in a falsely cheerful voice. “Well, I probably should let you go. I know you need to leave for work soon.”
    “Honey, I—”
    “I’ll be fine, Mom. Honest. Don’t worry about me. I’ll call again on Wednesday, okay? Love you! Bye now.” She disconnected the call and slipped her phone in her pocket. From downstairs, Grandmother’s and Marjorie’s soft laughter filtered through the heat vent below the window. She crossed to it and used her toes to close the flap behind the iron grate. The happy sound was instantly muffled.
    Loneliness descended. She tugged the wispy curtains aside and gazed across the yard. When she’d first arrived in Arborville, she loved looking out the window at the sturdy, old buildings and the fields unfolding toward the horizon like a giant quilt. The view had given her a sense of peace and homecoming. She tried to stir the former feelings, but they refused to rise. With a sigh, she lowered her gaze and noticed a flickering light behind the windows in the cottage. She frowned. Was a lamp bulb going out? Or—her pulse skipped into nervous double beats—was there a fire?
    She headed for the hallway, her thoughts tumbling nervously. Had Briley returned yet? If he were in there, he’d make use of the fire extinguisher. Unless he was asleep. She quickened her pace, and the thud of her feet on the wooden risers competed with the pound of her heart. Not until she was out the front door and trotting