Chapter One
Jane Steward, manager of Storyton Hall, a five-star resort for bibliophiles, distributed Wonka Bars to the members of her book club.
The Cover Girls examined the chocolate bars in wonder.
“Are these real?” asked Betty Carmichael. She ran the Cheshire Cat Pub with her husband, Bob, and wasn’t surprised by much.
Jane smiled. “You can try a bite, but we’re having a full tea spread in a few minutes.”
Betty put the candy bar in her handbag. “I’ll save mine for later.”
“A fictional candy bar? As long as it wasn’t made by an Oompa Loompa, I’ll eat it,” Violet Osborne whispered to Anna. Violet owned Tresses, the village beauty salon, while Anna was working on a doctoral degree in pharmacy. Between work and school, she hadn’t attended many book club meetings for the past six months, so her friends were delighted to have her back.
“If T. S. Eliot dared to eat a peach, then I dare to eat chocolate,” said Eloise Alcott, Jane’s best friend and proprietor of Run for Cover bookstore.
Mabel Wimberly, who owned a women’s clothing boutique called La Grande Dame, slipped her chocolate bar into the pocket of her fuchsia cardigan. “No need to twist my arm. This will be dessert tonight.” She turned to Mrs. Pratt, the most senior member of the book club and a retired educator. “If you’re not going to eat yours . . .”
Mrs. Pratt jerked her candy bar out of Mabel’s reach. “If you want mine, you’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers. I make it a rule never to share men or chocolate.”
The women laughed.
Jane peeled off the purple paper label of her chocolate bar and showed her friends the gold foil inside. “The labels were made by a graphic designer specializing in literary designs. Each label has the Storyton Hall logo on the front and a quote from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on the back. I hope the kids coming to Storyton for this weekend’s Family Valentine’s Celebration like them. As far as the chocolate? It tastes like a Hershey bar.”
Eloise turned over her candy bar. “My quote says, ‘What you imagine sometimes comes true.’ I’m pretty sure Grandpa Joe said that. I remember reading the scene where Charlie finds the golden ticket like it was yesterday. I was ten or eleven, and I got so excited that I jumped up and down on my bed. My grandmother came rushing in to see what was going on. She’d never heard of the book, and I begged her to read it when I was done. After that, she read everything I read. Sharing those books brought us closer.”
Mrs. Pratt put on her reading glasses and studied her label. “The quote on mine is ‘We are all a great deal luckier than we realize.’” She peered at Jane over her glasses. “Isn’t that a bit philosophical for children?”
Jane shrugged. “Their parents will get chocolate bars too. I want guests of all ages to feel lucky this weekend. Speaking of which, I’m going to put all the goodies for our first Golden Bookmark winners in the Fairy Tale Suite. That way, when the Gilbert family goes into their room, they’ll see all of them at once.”
“I remember when you first mentioned the Golden Bookmark program,” said Eloise. “The idea of giving a free Storyton Hall vacation to a couple or family who couldn’t afford it is so like you, Jane. It makes me proud to be your friend.”
Compliments embarrassed Jane, so she smiled and kept talking. “Do you gals want to share your contributions before we have tea?”
Mabel clapped her hands. “I thought you’d never ask. As soon as you told me about the Storybook Supper, I contacted the Gilberts to find out who their favorite children’s book characters were. After that, I started sewing.”
As usual, the women were gathered in the living room of Jane’s house. She lived in what had once been the hunting lodge on the original estate. Like the manor house, the hunting lodge had been dismantled from its original seat in the English countryside and rebuilt in a remote, bucolic valley in Western Virginia. The front half of the lodge no longer housed guns and dog kennels, but Storyton Hall’s fleet of vintage Rolls-Royce sedans. The back half was home to Jane and her twin boys. The twins, Fitzgerald and Hemingway, were currently upstairs in their room. Eloise had gifted them with several new comic books, and the boys had raced off to read them.
Mabel shot a glance toward the stairs before opening the lid of a rubber storage box. “I have the twins’ costumes in here too. I want them to be a surprise, so I’m only showing you what I made for the Gilberts. I think you’ll guess which book they love best.” She pulled a pair of denim overalls and a flannel shirt out of the box. “These are for Max, the dad. Mom’s next. Her name is Alika. Betty, would you grab the other end?”
Betty helped Mabel hold up a black poncho with a glittering white spiderweb design. Mabel put the poncho aside and pulled out a hat shaped like a spider. The spider had a sweet face. She had two eyes instead of eight, pink cheeks, and a kind smile.
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, Peter’s outfit will give it away,” said Mabel. She showed the Cover Girls a pink pig costume designed for a young boy.
“Charlotte’s Web?” Anna guessed.
Mabel gave her a thumbs-up. “Yep. The daughter, Fern, was named after the little girl in E. B. White’s book. That’s why she has overalls like Uncle Zuckerman, aka Max Gilbert. And I put a rubber rat in the bib pocket of Fern’s overalls. I had to make sure Templeton made it to the party. He’s my favorite character.”
“Mine too,” said Violet. “Whoever thought a rat could be so likeable?”
“Mrs. Templeton would disagree,” said Jane, referring to Storyton Hall’s head housekeeper. “Not even a shared surname could save a rat from her broom.”
The women chortled. They talked about the Gilberts’ costumes, the Charlotte’s Web animated film, and their favorite fair foods until Mabel reclaimed their attention.
“Both of the Gilbert kids are named after book characters. Alika named Peter after the little boy in The Snowy Day. Alika read it aloud every day of her pregnancy, and when Peter was born, he loved seeing a book character that looked like him. Alika was excited to hear that some of the picture-book conference events are open to the public. The panel on diversity in children’s books is right up her alley.”
Phoebe pointed at the pig costume. “Wait. You said that Alika named Peter. Not Max and Alika.”
“The Gilberts are a blended family,” Jane explained. “Fern and Peter are step-siblings. Though they look nothing alike, their parents say that they’re thick as thieves.”
“And they’re only a year apart, which made it easier to pick out books for them.” Eloise held up a box set of paperbacks. “My contribution is this Roald Dahl set. Fifteen books in total.”
The book club members complimented Eloise on her choice.
Phoebe held out an envelope. “Mine’s not very colorful. I have a gift certificate for free drinks and frozen custard.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Pratt and I have the colorful part covered.” Anna gestured at a gift-wrapped package on the coffee table. “We bought a pair of sketch pads and two art sets from Geppetto’s Toy Shop.”
Betty picked up the basket by her feet. “I have a lovely bottle of merlot and a tin of cheese straws for Max and Alika. The parents can have wine time while the kids have Picasso time.”
“Where were you when the twins were finger-painting my bedroom walls?” Jane gave Betty a playful nudge. “I could have used a bottle back then. This single mom never had enough wine time.”
Violet was the last Cover Girl to share her contribution. “I’m offering to do the family’s hair and makeup before the Storybook Supper. If any of you ladies need a special hairstyle to go with your costume, let me know. I’ll add you to my list.”
All the women spoke at once, eager to talk about their plans for Valentine’s Day.
“What about Edwin?” Mrs. Pratt asked Jane. “Wouldn’t the two of you rather have an intimate dinner with candlelight and roses? It’s the most romantic day of the year, and you’re going to spend it with a roomful of kids, parents, and people who make children’s books?”
Jane got to her feet. “The whole point of the event is to provide an alternative to the candlelight and roses cliché. I’m looking forward to celebrating with my guests, my friends, and my family. As is Edwin. What could be more perfect than a night of good food, whimsical costumes, and a charming play?”
Mrs. Pratt frowned. She was about to press her point when Jane held up a finger. “I’m going to put out the tea spread. When I’m done, you can tell us about your plans.”
Someone whistled, and Mrs. Pratt blushed.
Eloise followed Jane into the kitchen. “I’ll brew the tea while you arrange the food.” She scanned the selection of finger sandwiches and sugary treats. “It’s a good thing I won’t be wearing a swimsuit for another few months. I want one of everything.”
Jane placed a tray of finger sandwiches at one end of the table. Next came the treats. These included almond scones, white chocolate raspberry macaroons, date cookies, and miniature angel food cupcakes. Eloise added two teapots to the table before returning to the kitchen to fetch teacups and napkins.
“Teatime, ladies!” Jane called.
The women filled their cups with winter chai or spiced ginger tea and carried their loaded plates into the living room. As soon as they were settled in chairs or on the sofa, Mrs. Pratt peered at Jane over the rim of her teacup. She wanted to talk about her beau.
Eugenia Pratt and Roger Bachman had met when a group of historians had come to Storyton Hall for a conference on the Great War. Mrs. Pratt and Roger had been partnered in a wartime cooking class. Their mutual attraction had taken them both by surprise, and though Roger lived and worked in New York City, their relationship was still going strong.
“Is Roger coming to Storyton this weekend?” Jane asked.
Mrs. Pratt loved the spotlight. She took a dainty sip of her tea, drawing out the moment, before answering Jane’s question. “Yes. He has big news that he wants to tell me in person. He hopes that it will make me happy.”
The room echoed with ooooooohs.
All eyes were on Mrs. Pratt. She wore a dreamy expression, and her mouth curved into a secretive smile.
“Do you think he’ll propose?” Violet asked. “You’ve been together, what, five months?”
Anna didn’t give Mrs. Pratt the chance to answer. “What about the fact that it’s been a long-distance relationship? How well can you know someone when you only get together every few weeks?”
Eloise looked at Mrs. Pratt. “I thought you didn’t want to marry again.”
Mrs. Pratt moved her shoulders in the ghost of a shrug. “I don’t. I’m very set in my ways. I had a long and happy marriage to a good man. After he passed, I didn’t plan on sharing my life with anyone else. I’ve given my heart to Roger, but I don’t want to open my home to him.”
Mabel nodded. “I tell you what. Even if Idris Elba asked to move in, I wouldn’t want him underfoot. You all know that I can be messy, but there’s an order to my mess. A purpose to every pile. I can’t imagine changing things to accommodate a man.”
Jane thought of the bundles of yarn, mountains of fabric, and spools of thread in Mabel’s shop. They seemed to migrate to every room in her house, turning it into a wonderland of color and texture. Like most of the merchants in the village of Storyton, Mabel’s brick and stone cottage was both her business and her home. The two-story cottages marched in a neat line down Main Street, boasting lush front gardens enclosed by a low fence and a small lawn in the rear.
As she topped off Mabel’s tea, Jane said, “You’re like the miller’s daughter in Rumpelstiltskin. Instead of spinning straw into gold, you spin cloth and thread into beautiful clothes. Magical shawls, enchanting dresses, charming hats. I can’t wait to see the twins in their costumes on Saturday.”
Eloise gazed down at her empty plate. “Speaking of costumes, I won’t be able to zip mine if I have a second scone. And I’m not giving any hints either.”
Betty offered to carry the teacups and plates to the kitchen. When Mrs. Pratt held out her teacup, Betty took it and said, “Jane and Edwin don’t cohabitate, and their relationship hasn’t suffered, so you and Roger should be fine.” She looked at Jane. “If you ask me, you and Edwin seem more in love than ever. Why don’t you get married?”
Jane could feel the weight of her friends’ stares. As much as she hated to lie to them, she had no choice. Only Eloise knew about Edwin’s secret life. Last fall, he’d finally told his little sister that he was a Templar. He went on to explain that he was a Robin Hood of book thieves. He stole incredibly rare books and documents with the sole purpose of returning the items to their original owners or their descendants. And when he wasn’t stealing things, he was cooking exquisite food at the Daily Bread Café.
Edwin went away for weeks at a time to carry out missions for his order while posing as a travel writer. Jane loved him with her whole heart, but he wasn’t good father material. His life was filled with duplicity. Despite the fact that the twins adored Edwin, Jane had asked him to distance himself from her sons. They were the most important people in her life, and she wouldn’t see them hurt. They came before everything. Even her own happiness.
However, the Cover Girls knew nothing of the challenges Jane and Edwin faced. Only Eloise knew the truth. And just as the silence was on the verge of being uncomfortable, she came to Jane’s rescue.
“Jane said that she’d never marry again after losing William, remember? No matter how much time goes by, it must still hurt.”
Jane shot her a grateful look. “It does. It kind of catches me off-guard. One of the boys will make a certain face, and I’ll see William in the expression. It makes me feel a bunch of emotions at once. I’m happy because I know that he lives on through his sons. But I’m also sad because they’ll never know their father.”
Anna took Betty’s hand. “Not everyone gets to marry their high school sweetheart. You’re one of the lucky ones.” She turned to Jane. “Love is complicated. Just ask me. Being in love with your boss takes complicated to a whole new level.”
Violet looked at Jane. “I know you’re excited about this weekend, but I don’t like Valentine’s Day. It’s not a fun holiday when you’re single.” She forced a smile. “Maybe whoever bought the Spokes cottage will turn out to be my dream guy. If not mine, then Phoebe’s. She and I are competing to see who has a longer dry spell when it comes to men. Neither of us wants to win.”
“You’re both amazing, and any man incapable of seeing that is missing out. Not to change the subject, but I didn’t realize that Spokes had moved to its new location,” Jane said, referring to the town’s bicycle rental and sales company.
“Their old place is already under contract. No one knows who the buyer is. Believe me, I’ve asked. All I got from the Spokes guys is that he isn’t from around here.”
“He?” Jane arched her brows. “Maybe it is your dream guy. We’ll just have to be pleasantly surprised. And speaking of surprises, I have one for all of you. You’ll have to bundle up, though. We’re going outside.”
Mabel pointed at Jane’s front door. “You have a surprise for us out there?”
“Yes. I wanted my friends to be the first to see it. Other than the twins and the staff members who created it, no one has experienced Storyton Hall’s newest attraction.”
Betty gasped. “Is it the spa? Have you opened the relaxation area?”
“That’s scheduled for later this week.” Jane clapped her hands. “Come on, ladies. If you don’t button up and get outside, we’ll miss our ride.”
“Is it a she-shed?” Phoebe guessed. “I’ve always wanted a she-shed.”
Mrs. Pratt pulled on her gloves and joined Jane by the door. “Since you started our meeting with Roald Dahl chocolate bars, I’m guessing your surprise is related to him. I just hope you didn’t recreate his shed. He kept a piece of his own hip bone in there. Why he kept that bone, or a giant ball of chocolate wrappers, is beyond me.”
“Novelists are strange creatures. And thank God for that,” said Mabel. She tugged a wool cap over her ears and raised a warning finger. “Jane, I know how much you love literary quotes. Doesn’t The Book Thief have a line about a snowball to the face being the beginning of a lasting friendship? Because I do not want a snowball to the face.”
Jane laughed. “We already have a lasting friendship. But I’m glad you mentioned a book about kids because this attraction is all about books and kids.”
When her friends were finally out the door, Jane called upstairs to tell the twins she’d be back soon. She then steered the Cover Girls to the middle of the Great Lawn, which was blanketed in several inches of pristine snow.
Suddenly, a pair of horse-drawn sleighs appeared from a path in the woods.
“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Pratt. “Is this for us?”
Jane grinned. “Yes. Sam started offering sleigh rides in December. Hilltop Stables doesn’t generate much money in the winter, so we thought of a way for him to earn a little cash while treating Storyton Hall’s guests to some cold-weather magic.”
Phoebe watched the approach of the two sleighs, her eyes glittering with anticipation. “I’ve heard about these rides through the woods. They’ve been a big hit with your guests.”
Sam Nolan eased his horses to a stop. His assistant, Deacon, followed suit. Sam, who was handsome in an all-American way, flashed a brilliant smile. His gaze lingered on Eloise. He’d been in love with her since they were kids, but he was slowly coming to accept that her heart belonged to Landon Lachlan, Storyton Hall’s head of recreation.
As he helped Eloise into the sleigh, she greeted him warmly. She then arranged a blanket over herself, Phoebe, and Mrs. Pratt.
Jane made sure her friends were comfortable before taking a seat next to Sam. He made a clicking noise with his tongue, and his clever horses began to walk.
“They’ve adjusted so well to the snow,” Jane marveled.
“They have.” Sam grinned like a proud parent. “I had to outfit them all with special snowshoes, but they love it. Sometimes, they play in the snow like little kids. They run and toss their manes and roll around on the ground.”
Behind them, Deacon began to sing. He had a deep, rich baritone that floated over the snow-covered lawn and drifted into the barren trees.
Jane didn’t recognize the song, but Sam did.
“It’s Queen. ‘A Winter’s Tale,’” he said.
With Deacon’s song filling the air and the landscape gliding by, the sleigh ride took on a feeling of quiet enchantment.
By the time the song was done, Sam was leading the horses into the woods. The wide walking path was covered with packed snow, and the sleighs headed for the clearing where hikers and nature lovers enjoyed picnics during the temperate months.
As the sleighs rounded a bend, lights came into view. There were thousands, twinkling in the tree canopy like a sea of fallen stars.
“How lovely,” Eloise cried.
As the sleighs drew closer, structures appeared in the clearing. Jane pivoted in her seat to catch her friends’ reactions as they recognized the diminutive buildings.
“Is that a giant shoe?” Mrs. Pratt asked.
“A shoe-shaped house?” added Betty. “Like in the nursery rhyme?”
Eloise giggled. “Yes! And there’s Rapunzel’s tower and the gingerbread cottage from Hansel and Gretel. Look at the gumdrop shingles and the candy-cane shutters.”
Sam pulled on the reins, and the horses came to a stop next to a carpet of false grass.
“Welcome to Storybook Village,” said Jane, jumping down from the sleigh. “It might be wintertime in the woods, but inside the village, it’s always spring.”
Jane waited for her friends to join her on the green carpet.
“How are you keeping the snow out?” Anna asked, glancing overhead.
“The entire area is covered by a canopy. The underside is painted to look like an evening sky and is woven through with fairy lights. The canvas drops down around the sides of the village as well. We tried to camouflage it with silk trees and blooming vines.”
Beckoning to the Cover Girls to follow her, Jane led them inside the gingerbread cottage. The interior was crowded with child-sized tables and chairs. Gas logs burned in a small fireplace, and a battery-powered lantern sat on each table. In the kitchen area, a menu board listed the hot chocolate drinks and iced cookies available for purchase.
“A staff member will man the kitchen this weekend,” Jane explained. “You should see the cookies Mrs. Hubbard baked. She made gingerbread boys and girls, scary witches, magic wands, unicorns, crowns, fairy-tale castles, princess gowns, and frog princes.”
Mabel pointed at the menu board. “Snickerdoodle hot cocoa? Yum. Is there an age limit for customers?”
“As long as you’re young at heart, you can enter the Storybook Village. Come on. I have more to show you.” Jane led her friends to Rapunzel’s tower. Inside, there were chairs facing gold-framed mirrors. Another menu board listed the services offered for princesses-in-training.
Violet’s eyes widened. “Fairy hair? How cool! What colors can they choose from?”
Jane opened a cupboard at the back of the tower. “All colors of the rainbow.”
“What’s fairy hair?” Betty asked.
“It’s hair tinsel,” Violet explained. “You tie a strand onto your own strand of hair, near your part, and then cut it to the desired length. It’s shiny and colorful. Like tinsel.”
Phoebe examined the display of strands in the cupboard. “I love the rose gold.”
“There’s no age limit here, either,” Jane told her friend.
“What about the boys?” asked Eloise. “Won’t they feel excluded?”
Jane put a hand on the ladder leading to the second floor of the tower. “If they climb the tower, they can get an airbrush tattoo. The activities are open to both genders. The parents will decide who does what.”
The next building was a ramshackle structure with a straw-covered floor. A replica spinning wheel sat in one corner. A large worktable occupied the rest of the space.
“This is Rumpelstiltskin’s workshop,” Jane told her friends. “Kids are invited to make no-sew crafts including a pillow, potholders, placemats, or a dog toy.”
Mabel stared at Jane. “You do realize that we all want tattoos and fairy hair. We want to drink hot chocolate and weave placemats. We might never want to leave.”
Jane gave Mabel’s shoulder a pat. “The village will be open for business on Friday.”
“Is there an activity in every house?” Eloise asked.
Jane shook her head. “Two of the buildings are playhouses. We have a dress-up station and a funhouse mirror wall in Cinderella’s mini castle and a climbing wall and spiral slide in the cottage of the Seven Dwarfs. We plan to keep this village up all year, but it will only be staffed during kid-centered events. I think you’ll like Belle’s house, Eloise. That’s where our youngest authors can write and assemble their own storybooks.”
Eloise’s eyes danced with delight. “Show me.”
Jane waited for her friends to gather on the grass carpet once more. She’d just opened the door to the next cottage when she spotted a splash of bright red on the faux wood floor inside.
A pair of rocking chairs partially obscured her view, but there was something familiar about the red shape.
“Wait here,” Jane murmured to her friends and walked to the far side of the cottage.
As soon as she cleared the rocking chairs, she realized that the red thing on the ground was a coat. A long, wool coat.
Jane noticed a dozen details at once. Black leggings. Black boots. Curls of long, dark brown hair. The curve of an elegant neck. The roundness of a cheek. The lack of motion.
Jane rushed over to the woman and abruptly halted.
The woman in the red coat lay on her side, facing a waterfall display of picture books.
Jane stared and stared. She was so focused on the woman that she didn’t hear the Cover Girls tiptoe up behind her.
“Is she asleep?” someone whispered.
“She’s not Aurora. She’s more like Red Riding Hood,” Mrs. Pratt murmured. “See the basket for her grandmother by that velvet cushion?”
No one replied, and suddenly, Storybook Village felt eerily still.
Eloise tiptoed up to Jane and whispered, “Is she okay?”
Jane looked back at her friend. Her eyes were dark with fear. “No. She’s dead.”