One Mountain Away - Emilie Richards

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to up and leave—that’s how I said it—because I really didn’t have any other place to go, no matter how much trouble her little boys were, and besides, I had helped my gran teach Sunday School for years, so I knew kids.”

      “It’s like somebody put that woman in your path.”

      Charlotte considered that. Maybe at the time it had felt that way, but in the years afterward she’d convinced herself that people made their own luck—probably so she could be even prouder of herself for what she had achieved.

      “That’s the definition of faith, isn’t it? I honestly don’t know whether I believe that, Harmony, but I do believe this. If life hands you an opportunity, you grab it and hold on to it the way you hold on to a child who’s squirming to be set free. That’s what I did. Mrs. King was never sorry, not for one moment, that she grabbed her own opportunity and hired me. I stayed with the family a couple of years, and by the time they moved away, I wasn’t afraid anymore. I knew I could make it, and I did.”

      “Lottie Lou?”

      Charlotte felt herself smiling. “My mother’s idea, and I’ll tell you a secret. It’s not even a nickname. It’s the name that was right there on my birth certificate. I changed it legally the moment I had the money to do it, but Charlotte Louise Hale is a fraud.”

      “Never a fraud. You’re a kind woman. And all this, this part of your past? That’s why you’re offering me a place to stay?”

      Charlotte thought of all the reasons why she had offered, so many more than she could tell the young woman. She had already made herself uncharacteristically vulnerable, and that was enough for one day.

      “That’s the reason,” she said. “Because I know what it’s like to need a safe place to get back on your feet. I was homeless. I know what it feels like to worry about where you’ll sleep and whether you’ll be safe. I wanted you to know that I really do understand.”

      “Wow.” Harmony’s eyes filled with tears. “But that woman at the restaurant gave you a job, Charlotte.”

      “Harmony, you have a job. You don’t need another one.”

      “No, you worked for what you got. I’d just be living here and taking up space.” She brightened. “I could cook for you. And clean.”

      Charlotte saw that earning her way made all the difference to Harmony. “I have a housekeeper who comes in part-time to clean, but she doesn’t cook. Do you like to cook?”

      “I love to when my stomach cooperates. But I’m a vegetarian. I don’t cook meat. And I’ll have to fix things early in the day if I’m working the dinner shift. Would that be okay?”

      “Better than okay. I have a small appetite, so I won’t need anything fancy. And I’ll pay for all the groceries.”

      “May I do the shopping? You can tell me what you like, and I’ll make sure we have it in the house.”

      Charlotte reached over and held out her hand, palm up. “That would be such a big help.”

      Harmony slapped the outstretched hand with her own. “You’ve turned things around to make me feel better about this. We both know you’re helping me.”

      “Trust me when I say it’s mutual, okay?”

      “What could you need that you don’t have already?”

      Charlotte tried to smile. What did she need? A thousand “first days” to fix all the mistakes she had made? Her daughter and granddaughter safe in her arms? A chance to tell Ethan she was sorry she had so easily discounted the life they had shared?

      “I’ll get back to you on that,” she said. “For now? A friend and a cook.”

      “May I look around the kitchen? You know, to see what’s here?”

      “I’m officially turning it over to you.”

      Harmony looked as if Charlotte had just given her a present. “You won’t be sorry.”

      Charlotte wasn’t sure about much in her life, but she was sure she wouldn’t be sorry she had made this offer. No matter how it turned out, what did she have to lose?

      Chapter Nine

      IF ANALIESE HAD one complaint about the Church of the Covenant, it was the migraine-producing administrative tasks that fell to her. The meetings, the committees, the pledge campaigns, even her association with Covenant Academy, the private school affiliated with the church. On the day that she had heard the call to ministry she had envisioned a different life, filled with prayer and the spiritual needs of her flock. Instead, too often she combed through budgets, fiddled with mission statements, coordinated volunteers and staff alike. Even their competent church administrator couldn’t save her from the worst of it.

      During her first week she had realized she would burn out quickly if she allowed her days to be swallowed by paperwork. So she’d made rules. Except for emergencies, Thursdays were devoted to the Sunday service, the sermon and liturgy, and whatever research they required. Fridays were devoted to pastoral calls and counseling.

      Usually Fridays were her favorite day of the week, but today she awakened with a vague feeling of dread.

      She made two hospital visits before stopping for sandwiches downtown with the new chairman of the finance committee. The young CPA had recently gotten a divorce, and instead of budgets and endowments, they talked about how well he was coping. Well enough, she decided, when he admitted his biggest concern had been who would get custody of their collie. Analiese hoped he would wait a few years before he tried married life a second time, but she was glad he’d ended up with the dog, if not the wife.

      After he left to go back to work, the afternoon stretched in front of her. She had two counseling appointments in the early evening and plenty to do at church. But she had one more person to see before she went back to the relative peace of her office.

      A vision of Charlotte Hale sitting in the chapel had nagged at her since yesterday. It had bothered her all through Minnie Marlborough’s funeral and later that night at the monthly council meeting. When she got out of bed this morning, she had realized she had to see Charlotte again.

      She didn’t want to call her at Falconview or meet her there. She had been to the Falconview headquarters once on church business. There was nothing wrong with the modern office building on Hendersonville Road, with its sleek surfaces and smoky glass windows, except that words seemed to echo and disappear in Charlotte’s office. At the time she had wondered if that was intentional. After all, Charlotte was not particularly fond of listening to anyone else.

      Now she pulled out her cell phone and called Charlotte at home to leave a message. She planned to ask if she could drop by that evening. Instead, she got Charlotte on the first ring. She was so surprised it took her seconds to form a different plan.

      “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I’d be leaving a message. I was calling to see if I could stop by for a visit this evening, but if you’re home now and up for it…?”

      Charlotte sounded weary, but she told Analiese to come ahead.

      Half an hour later she pulled up in front of Charlotte’s house. Sitting in her car and reluctant to go inside, she looked over the serene landscape. She’d been here several times, and it never ceased to amaze her that one woman lived alone in a house that was large enough for three generations.

      Several years ago Charlotte had volunteered this house for a mission fundraiser, and a hundred people had fit so easily inside and around the light-bedecked swimming pool that Analiese had been sorry the committee hadn’t tried to accommodate twice as many.

      The fundraiser had gone off without a hitch, organized down to the final slice of cheesecake by Charlotte herself. It had all been so perfect, but no one had lingered, or talked too loudly, or eaten more than his share. No one had taken off pumps or wingtips, rolled up hems and dangled feet in the twinkling turquoise pool. By

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