“I can hardly believe it’s here,” Bailey said, positioning the last of the Russian teapots on the shelf.
“It’s going to be the best grand reopening Yancey’s ever seen.” Cole tugged Bailey into his arms, inhaling the lavender scent of her hair. He’d been waiting patiently for her to finish so they could talk, and now that the moment had finally arrived, his knees were threatening to give way.
“It’ll definitely be the best fed.” She angled her head in Piper’s direction as his sister carried in yet another tray of cookies. “She shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble,” Bailey whispered, her breath tickling his ear.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Piper said, squeezing the tray onto the already overly crowded table.
Bailey looked to Cole.
“Ears like an elephant,” he whispered back, indulging in the sensation of her skin beneath his lips.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Piper said, practically singing the words as she shuffled back outside.
“Take what as a compliment?” Gage asked, passing Piper as he strolled in.
“Piper’s uncanny ability to hear a mouse’s whisper.”
“That particular ability got me into more than one tight spot as a kid.” Gage popped a cookie in his mouth.
“Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.” Piper placed a stack of plastic cups on the counter. “Now, stop snitching the food and help me carry in the lemonade.”
Gage waited until she headed back outside before snagging a second cookie and following after her.
“Finally . . .” Cole slipped a loose strand of Bailey’s hair behind her ear. “A moment alone. There’s something I’ve been wanting to—”
“Bailey, girl.” Gus hobbled in, dressed in his Sunday best.
Bailey smiled. “Well, don’t you look dapper.”
Gus straightened his bow tie. “This is a big occasion. And unlike some folks”—his gaze shifted to Gage’s attire of jeans and a T-shirt—“I know how to dress properly for a big occasion.”
“What?” Gage shrugged after setting the pitchers of lemonade on the counter. “This is one of my best T-shirts.”
Gus shook his head. “Youth.”
“Speaking of youth . . .” Gage inclined his head toward the door.
Jesse entered, followed by Pastor Braden.
“Hey, guys,” Bailey said, moving to greet them. “Thanks so much for coming.”
Cole shook Jesse’s hand, so happy to see him. Following the shooting, they’d shared a heart-to-heart, and that Sunday Jesse committed his life to Christ. Cole had never seen so much joy in one place, the entire congregation rejoicing with the young man.
“We couldn’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place.” Pastor Braden looked around. “It looks—”
“Incredible,” Kayden said, entering the fray.
“Thanks.” Bailey greeted her with a hug. “I couldn’t have done it without all of your help.”
“That’s what family’s for.” Piper smiled. “Oh, that reminds me, weren’t you supposed to hear from the genetics lab today?”
“They called this morning. I was just getting ready to tell Cole, but stuff kept happening.”
“You mean people keep showing up,” he muttered under his breath. Everyone except Landon—he’d been strangely absent lately. Last time that happened had been years ago, and Landon had been in a very bad place. Cole prayed that wasn’t happening again. Surely after all these good years Landon wasn’t slipping back into destructive patterns.
“Well?” Piper asked Bailey, impatiently.
“DNA confirmed Grigor was a direct descendant of Michael Romanov.”
“Amazing,” Piper breathed. “And was he the last of the line, or are there other lost heirs we don’t know about?”
“That’s up to me to find out. But I’ve got to believe there are more. Three seems like such a small number.”
“What will happen to the portrait and orb?” Kayden asked.
Slidell had ordered Princess Maksutov’s casket exhumed the day after the shooting, and they’d found the orb safely secured inside.
“We’re hoping to keep them in Yancey’s historical society, but the Romanovs may petition to have them returned.”
“That would be understandable,” Piper said. “Since the orb, especially, is such a big part of their history.”
“Yeah, but it’s an integral part of Yancey’s history too.”
Cole slid his arm around Bailey’s waist, focusing back on her, on what was welling inside him to say. “Agnes would be proud you’re carrying on the tradition. Looking for heirs, protecting the treasure, running the Post.”
She smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
He leaned in and whispered, “And one day you can pass the torch on to our children.”
She straightened, her eyes widening.
It was time. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said, tugging Bailey away before any of his siblings could protest.
He pulled her into the kitchen and shut the door behind them.
“Our children?” she said, sinking against the counter.
He pulled her back into his arms, loath to ever let her go. “I was thinking at least three.”
“Oh, you were, were you?” A smile danced across her lips. “Don’t you think that’s jumping the gun just a little bit?”
He nuzzled her nose with his. “That depends.”
“Oh, really?” She giggled. “On what?”
He slipped the ring from his pocket. “On your answer to my question.”
Her eyes lit with delight.