Ollie watches the press conference in disbelief. She yearns to smack the smug smile off that reporter’s face. She clicks off the television and tosses the remote on her desk.
Her inbox dings with an incoming email from her father’s attorney. Karl Keller has reached out to her several times in the past few days. She needs to respond to him. Problem is, she doesn’t know what to say. She has three choices. Rebuilding and running the family business with her brother as a partner is her least favorite option. Selling her share of the vineyard and winery to Alexander is the most reasonable solution. But she can’t eliminate the possibility of disclaiming her inheritance. While that might unburden Ollie of some of her guilt, the idea of surrendering to her brother, of giving him what he wants, makes her blood run cold. Stella’s words ring out in her head. Don’t give away your inheritance, Ollie. It’s your birthright. Regardless of what happened, half that property belongs to you.
Ollie can’t leave the attorney hanging forever. She sends a curt response to his email, letting him know she’ll have a decision within the week.
Ollie makes a point of speaking to the spa and pool managers on her way out, alerting them to the potential for more intruders. As she walks down Main Street toward her apartment, her thoughts drift to Maureen Graves, and she replays in her mind the day the woman came to the spa for her treatment.
At her apartment, she pours a glass of wine and makes a salad of mixed greens, fruit, and sliced grilled chicken. While she eats, she opens her laptop on the breakfast bar and searches for information about Maureen Graves. She’s still sitting at the counter two hours later when she hits the jackpot.
She slides off the barstool and makes a victory lap around the apartment. I knew it! Wait until Stella sees this!
It’s too late to call her boss tonight. She’ll have to wait until in the morning. But when she arrives for the meeting about Peaches’s wedding, the other staff members are already gathered around the conference table in Stella’s office.
Stella claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Before we discuss the wedding, in case you missed last night’s media circus, I need to tell you about the crisis du jour.” Stella recounts the details of Nicole’s press conference and her response to it. “I expected hordes of crazies to be lined up and down the front drive this morning. Perhaps rumors of a decades-old double homicide will deter these unwanted visitors instead of encouraging them.” She flips open her laptop. “Now, we have a wedding to put on. Who wants to start?”
Presley raises her hand. “All systems are a go. There’s a chance of rain in the forecast for Saturday. We may have to use the inn’s tents for the ceremony on the terrace.”
“Rain?” Peaches removes her phone from her clutch and taps on the screen, accessing her weather app. “No one said anything to me about bad weather.”
Presley takes the phone from her. “Let us worry about the weather. Your job this week is to enjoy yourself.”
“I can do that!” Peaches sits up straight in her chair. “My parents and fiancé are arriving tomorrow, which makes tonight my last night to cut loose.” She looks over at Ollie. “Can we have a girls’ night bash at the hot springs after work? I want everyone here to come. You’ve all been so good to me these past few weeks.”
“Fine by me. Stella?” Ollie looks down the table at Stella who nods her approval.
“Yay!” Fiona comes out of her chair a little. “I’ll bring the wine.”
“I’ll check the schedule and email everyone the time,” Ollie says.
They talk about the wedding a few more minutes before Stella announces the meeting is adjourned. The other staff collect their belongings and file out of the office. Ollie brings up the rear, but instead of following them into the hall, she closes the door.
She turns to face Stella who has moved from the conference table to her desk. “You won’t believe what I found out about Maureen Graves.”
“What?” Stella says, appearing alarmed.
Crossing the room, Ollie gestures at Stella’s computer. “May I?”
Stella steps out of her way. “Of course.”
When Ollie sits down at the computer, Stella stands behind her, peering over her shoulder as she types. Ollie pulls up the website she discovered last night—Maureen’s personal blog with the most recent post, dated seven years ago. The post features a photograph of Maureen and her sister on vacation in Europe. The sister is none other than Maureen’s supposed oncologist, Dr Wilma Matthews.
Stella lets out a gasp. “Why that lying bitch.”
Ollie bites her lip to keep from smiling. She’s never heard Stella swear before.
Grabbing her phone, Stella taps a few keys and presses the phone to her ear.
“Who are you calling?” Ollie asks.
“Nicole Lambert.” Stella says.
Ollie moves in closer to Stella to hear what Nicole is saying. When Stella explains why she’s calling, Nicole eagerly agrees to look into the situation.
“If you make this right, Nicole, we will forget the little matter of my great-grandmother’s missing novels.”
Ollie’s eyes go wide, and Stella holds the phone away from her ear for Ollie to hear Nicole’s stuttered response, “I . . . I . . . I’ll call you back as soon as I know something.”
When Stella ends the call, Ollie offers her a high five. "You handled that brilliantly.”
Stella tosses her phone on the desk. “Nicole’s reaction just now is proof she took the journals. Or had Maureen take them for her. Since I have no way of proving it, there’s no point in going to the police. But I learned my lesson, and I won’t make that mistake again. Jack is having security cameras installed. Going forward, we will be more vigilant about keeping our doors locked.”
“You can’t be too careful these days.”
Stella lets out a deep breath. “Excellent detective work, Ollie. You may have salvaged the inn’s reputation.”
“I knew from the beginning something was fishy about that woman’s story.” Ollie moves toward the door. “Let me know if you hear from Nicole.”
“Will do. Hopefully we won’t have to wait too long,” Stella says. But when she shows up for the girls’ night bash at nine, Stella still hasn’t heard from Nicole.
“Wonder why she hasn’t called,” Ollie says.
Stella shrugs. “Let’s hope she’s doing her job.”
Because the governor is spending a small fortune on his daughter’s wedding, Stella insists on providing the food and booze for the party. Champagne bottles are uncorked, and several rounds of toasts are made.
Peaches, who is more than a little tipsy, jumps to her feet. “Let’s play a game. We’ll go around in a circle, and everyone will talk about how the hot springs has changed them over the past two months. I’ll go first. And when I’m finished, I’ll tag the next person.” She loses her balance and wine sloshes onto the stone paving. “Oopsy.”
“Give me that,” Fiona says, taking the wine glass from her.
Peaches throws her arms over her head. “I’m magically cured of my anxiety.” She scrunches her face, as though trying to figure something out. “Although truth be told, Cecily deserves more credit than the hot springs.” She points at Cecily. “You set me straight on my pampered Southern belle act. I feel more like myself than I have in years. I’m a product of my mama’s making. But I don’t wanna be that person anymore. I’m really trying to change.”
“And it shows.” Fiona gives her a hug. “The old Peaches, the Peaches from our childhood, is back. I really like that girl.”
Peaches crosses her hands over her heart. “I like that girl too. I’m excited about moving to London now. I have the opportunity to reinvent myself. I’m actually planning to get a job. For the first time in my life, I’m gonna work.” She slips into the pool, going all the way under and coming up with hair wet. “That’s it for me. I tag Fiona.”
“I’m not in the market for a miracle,” Fiona says. “But I believe this place is magical, the friendship and the environment. I’ve enjoyed working here this summer. Thank you for the opportunity.” She looks first at Cecily and then Stella.
“You’re a breath of fresh air,” Stella says. “I hope you’ll consider staying on permanently.”
Fiona casts a mischievous glance at Cecily. “I’m waiting for Cecily to make me an offer.”
“We’ll talk. Ten o’clock tomorrow. In my office.” Cecily’s hand shoots up, offering Fiona a high five.
“Awesome!” Fiona grabs Cecily’s hand and pulls her to her feet. “You’re it.”
Cecily groans. “I hate this game.” She shifts her weight. “I can’t say the hot springs have worked wonders for me. But I’m feeling better every day about my breakup with Lyle. I miss him sometimes. But I love having my own apartment and my freedom back. And having a crush helps.” She drops back down to the edge of the pool as the others bombard her with questions about her crush.
Cecily drags her fingers across her lips. “I’m not looking for a serious relationship. Right now, I just wanna have some fun. Oh, and I tag Amelia.”
Amelia sets down her champagne flute and gets up. “I’m still waiting for my miracle. Every day I pray for God to grant me Presley’s magic. If only I had a tenth of her talent as an event planner.”
“You have plenty of talent,” Presley says. “You’re just learning to use it.”
Amelia’s cheeks pinken. “Thank you for saying that.” She looks across the pool at Ollie. “You’re it.”
Ollie remains in the pool. “The springs haven’t taken away my heartache over losing my parents, but being surrounded by people who care about me is giving me the strength to make some difficult decisions. I tag Presley.”
Presley slowly rises, with a hand against her lower back. “I ditto Ollie. I, too, am figuring some things out.” Her gaze travels the group. “Your love and support help me get through the day. Stella, you’re up next.”
Ollie has been curiously keeping an eye on Stella since she arrived wearing a sundress instead of her bathing suit. She accepted a glass of champagne and pretended to take sips during the toasts. But the still-full glass sits beside her on the pool surface. Ollie smiles to herself at the thought of Stella having a baby. She’ll be a great mom. For the first time ever, Ollie wanders what it would be like to carry her own child, to produce another living being that is part of her, that she’s responsible for raising from infancy to adulthood.
Stella says, “My first miracle happened when I came to Hope Springs Farm. I’ve been blessed with miracles nearly every day since. I discovered the family I never knew I had. I’ve made lifelong friendships with all of you wonderful ladies. And I found the man of my dreams.”
Stella’s phone vibrates the pavement, and when she looks down at it, the color drains from her face. She snatches up the phone. “Nicole Lambert texted me. She’s reporting live about Maureen Graves on the eleven o’clock news.”
“The nearest television is in the Poolside Cafe,” Ollie says, hoisting herself out of the pool.
The others grab towels and follow Ollie out of the hot springs area to the cafe. Locating the remote, she clicks on the television and Nicole appears in all her stunning beauty.
“I’m Nicole Lambert reporting to you live from the home of Maureen Graves, the woman who claims her pancreatic cancer was miraculously cured by the mineral water at Hope Springs Farm in Hope Springs, Virginia. Channel eleven news has discovered Maureen’s head oncologist, Dr. Wilma Matthews, is Maureen’s sister. According to a whistleblower who works in the oncologist’s office, Maureen Graves never had cancer. Of any form. Her conspiracy was a ploy for fame and fortune. She’s in the process of negotiating with a publisher for a book deal for the story of her miraculous cure.”
Stella snatches the remote from Ollie. “No more book deal for her,” she says, clicking off the television.
Presley shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe anyone would do something so underhanded to achieve fame.”
Peaches fingers a lock of her blonde hair. “I mean, seriously. She shaved her head and everything.”
Fiona runs her hands through her pixie cut. “Can you imagine?”
“What a psychopath,” Cecily mumbles in a disgusted tone. “Can we sue her or something?”
“I don’t think we have grounds for a lawsuit, although I’ll check with my attorneys to make certain,” Stella says.
“Thank goodness Nicole outted her,” Amelia says.
Stella draws Ollie in for a half hug. “Nicole didn’t out her. Ollie did. She discovered Maureen and Wilma are sisters.”
A flush creeps up Ollie’s cheeks. “The whistleblower, whoever he or she is, gets the real credit.”
“You all deserve some of the credit,” Stella says. “I just hope things will go back to normal around here now.”
Ollie wonders what Stella’s definition of normal is. Everything she’s experienced since coming to Hope Springs Farm is anything but normal. Some of it good. Some of it not so much.