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spidery handwriting. “To the finder of my Bible” the note read on the outside. She unfolded the single sheet and read her friend’s message:
    You are holding my Bible, and by that I know I must have died some time ago, for I never let this precious book out of my sight. I write this late in the night when I cannot sleep. My thoughts are restless as I ponder the future. Please give this Bible to my dear friend Elizabeth Hayes. I want her to have it.
    Elizabeth’s eyes misted over as Nick elbowed her. “What does it say, Mommy? Is it a letter from Grace? I thought she was dead.”
    “She is dead, honey. She wrote this before she died.”
    Elizabeth returned to the letter.
    I think of my home and the many years I have lived within these walls. Oh, it is only an earthly treasure. But I do hope it will live on to bless others as it has blessed me. I pray that Zachary The letter stopped. Elizabeth turned it over, searching for more. Then she flipped through the pages of the Bible again. A pressed rose fell out. A crocheted bookmark. Nothing more.
    “‘I pray that Zachary,’” she whispered. “‘I pray that Zachary’ … what?”
    “Who’s Zachary?” Nick asked, leaning against her shoulder to peer at the letter.
    “He’s the man with the green eyes.”
    “My new daddy.” Nick nodded. “You better take him that letter. Grace wanted to give it to him.”
    “Zachary Chalmers is not your new daddy, Nick.”
    “Not yet, but you better take him that letter because Grace loved him a lot.”
    “Why do you say that, sweetheart?”
    “Because,” Nick said, jumping down from the swing. “She must have loved him, because she was praying for him.”

T HREE
    “Heading over to the Nifty Cafe?” Pearlene asked as Elizabeth passed the ladies’ dress shop next door to Finders Keepers. “They’ve got strawberry pie on the menu today. Phil says Alma makes strawberry pie better than his mama did, and that’s saying something.”
    Elizabeth tucked Grace’s Bible more firmly in her arms and waited for the River Street light to change. For two days she had prayed about the situation with Chalmers House. Grace’s letter had been filled with such longing. Clearly, Elizabeth’s dear friend had loved the home and had hoped to make it a lasting gift to her nephew. What choice was there but to take the matter into her own hands? But the last person she wanted to know her business was Pearlene Fox. One word to her nosy husband, and the news would be all over town. Elizabeth Hayes paid a visit to that new fellow in town, Zachary Chalmers. Now what do you suppose that was all about?
    “I like the Nifty’s chicken salad,” she told Pearlene. “Ez and Alma have the perfect recipe.”
    “But full of fat, let me tell you. I never saw so much mayonnaise, and Alma uses the high cholesterol kind. Phil says he won’t touch the stuff. Says Ez leaves the mayonnaise jar out on the counter three or four hours at a time. You never know what kind of disease you’re going to pick up from warm mayonnaise. You could flat die.”
    The light changed, and Elizabeth breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. Ambleside had only a few restaurants—five or six, depending on the time of year—and she couldn’t bear the thought of striking Nifty Cafe chicken salad from her list of favorite foods. Giving Pearlene a wave, she crossed to the Corner Market. Through the plate-glass windows, she could see Boompah at the cash register, busy with his lunchtime traffic. Ruby McCann the librarian was apparently displeased with a cantaloupe, and a line had formed behind her.
    Crossing Walnut Street, Elizabeth passed the hardware store, the Nifty, and the drugstore. The old men who passed each morning smoking pipes and chatting over the local news on a bench outside Redee-Quick Drugs had already gone on their way. Their beloved bench was empty now, but the minute school let out, it would be filled by “the kids,” who never failed to leave their soda cans and