Chapter Twelve

Kate pursed her lips, unsure what to make of that. “You want to talk to one of us alone?”

“No, I mean without...other people around.” Charlene looked to the left and right, then when she fixed her gaze on them again, she smiled. “I like your hair, Mrs. Mulgrew. Did you just have it done?”

“Thank you. Yes, I wanted it to look nice for church tomorrow.”

“Church! Is tomorrow Sunday already?” Charlene put her hands to her cheeks. “We’ve been roughing it a bit on this trip. I’ve lost all track of the days without things like my regular TV shows to keep me on schedule.”

Kate and Bonnie laughed with her, and Kate took note of the woman’s hands. Charlene had some of the same kinds of scars that Kate had noticed on Dud’s hands. There were fewer of them, and they were lighter, but still, it captured Kate’s attention. Kate knew what it was like to go around with bandages on her fingers and tiny cuts and nicks from the days when she first started working with stained glass. Those marks hadn’t resulted in lasting scars, but she could imagine how that could happen to a person who worked with his or her hands.

Kate also noted that despite the roughness of her hands, Charlene wore nail polish: a dark, trendy shade, but badly chipped. It seemed an odd mix, that someone who had set out on a trip to try to get a look at birds in the wild would have done her nails. Then she thought of Betty’s admonition to try to look and feel your best. Kate decided that Charlene might not want to concede certain things she enjoyed just because of her circumstances.

“We always try to get to church even when we’re away from home. Artie mentioned that you’re one of the local ministers’ wives,” Charlene said as she put her hand on Kate’s arm. “What church do you attend?”

Kate told her about Faith Briar and extended an invitation for them to join them in the morning.

“We’ll certainly try. Absolutely.” Charlene smiled broadly.

“Well, Charlene, we’d love to see you and Dud there,” Kate said. “We were just on our way to the Mercantile. Would you like to join us? That will give us a chance to chat.”

When Charlene happily agreed to tag along with them to the Mercantile, Kate realized that despite not wanting other people to hear what she had to say, Charlene didn’t mind talking in a public place. So, Kate assumed, that meant there was someone very specific whom Charlene didn’t want to overhear her. This seemed interesting to Kate, and she was eager to hear what Charlene had to say.

But Charlene seemed in no hurry to get to the secret conversation. She was upbeat and fun as they walked together down the block in the scenic downtown. She was wearing a thermal top again, with another loud print shirt—a stereotypical tourist. But Charlene wasn’t the least bit stereotypical. She waved to strangers on the street and paused to stare longingly into the window of Emma’s Ice Cream, the old-fashioned soda and candy shop between the beauty shop and the Mercantile.

While Charlene and Bonnie reminisced about places from their youth that reminded them of Emma’s, Kate’s attention wandered to the larger scope of their setting. She loved the downtown area, no matter what the season, but today she thought it was especially lovely with the tinges of autumn color here and there.

The late-September day was unusually brisk. Often at this time of year, people still could get away with short-sleeved shirts or even shorts. But this year, the cool weather had come early, which meant that people had to delve into their closets and pull out warmer clothes.

When Kate and her companions reached the red-brick Mercantile, Kate nodded in greeting to the collection of retirees who often gathered on the rockers on the porch.

Charlene smiled brightly at the men. “My, don’t y’all have the best seat in town for sitting back and watching this fine fall day unfold?”

Both Bonnie and Charlene stopped short the minute they entered the store. Kate smiled at their reaction. People who came from larger cities probably didn’t even know that places like the Mercantile still existed. Copper Mill’s general store was where people came to pick up everything from juice to jewelry, clothes to camping supplies.

“Isn’t this something?” Charlene sounded sincerely impressed. “I’ll definitely have to bring Dud by to check this place out. We didn’t expect cool weather, so he had to borrow a pair of overalls from ol’ Artie to keep warm.”

Bonnie paused and cocked her head. “Whenever I go out birding, I pack for every circumstance I can imagine.”

“Oh, me too,” Charlene assured Bonnie. “Dud told me he’d done the same. Packed for anything he could imagine. Guess that means that Dud just doesn’t have that good of an imagination.”

The two women shared a congenial laugh.

As they browsed the racks, Charlene motioned for Kate and Bonnie to come stand close to her. She lowered her voice, and they leaned in to be able to hear what she had to say. “I just wanted to let you know I haven’t been able to get that map and what you said about there being so few birds out by Artie’s place out of my mind. I think you’re right, Mrs. Mulgrew, that there are fewer birds around Best Acres than anywhere else. Now, I don’t know about you two, but that sure has my curiosity piqued about what’s going on and just what—or who—might be behind it.”