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smoother.

    Sugar Hill General was modern, but it still didn’t have the advanced
    equipment that the big Atlanta hospitals did.

    Buttoning his shirt as he went, he remembered the night his baby brother
    had died. His mother hadn’t had the advantages of a big modern facility,
    either; maybe if she had, the doctors could have saved the baby. Thomas
    had been twelve, but the helplessness he’d felt had been mind-boggling.
    A frisson of unease rippled through him as he drove to the hospital. He
    phoned the hospital to warn them to be prepared for an emergency. Better
    to prepare for the worst.

    Someday maybe he would have a son of his own. A family to replace the
    one he’d lost long ago.

    But not until he settled permanently into his career, moved to the city
    and achieved his goals. When he had a child, he wanted it to have all
    the advantages he and his brother hadn’t. The latest in medical
    technology for starters.

    And he would never have that in a small town like Sugar Hill.

    Rebecca’s fingers trembled as she opened the hope chest. Knowing that
    her grandmother had chosen the

    items inside especially for her brought tears to her eyes. Grammy Rose
    had been the only stable mother figure in her life ever since she was
    nine, when her mother had died.

    She brushed her fingers over the soft velvet, the scent of cedar and her
    grandmother’s rose potpourri clinging to the inside of the chest as if
    to remind her of its origin. She had seen the bride’s book before but
    hadn’t noticed the white envelope lying beside it. Her heart pounding
    with excitement, she opened the letter and began to read.

    My dearest, darling Rebecca, You are a very special granddaughter
    because you remind me so much of myself when I was your age. You were
    the first of Bert’s daughters, the one who brought a deep love into his
    marriage that cemented the bond between him and your mother.

    But you were the one who suffered the most when your mother died.
    Although your own heart was aching, you pushed your feelings aside to
    comfort your father and little sister in their sorrow.

    You showed such strength that the rest of us gained courage from you.
    But when you retreated to that silent place where you grieved, you never
    quite came back.

    Always steady and strong, dependable and caring, you are loyal and
    trusting to a fault. Believe in yourself now, Rebecca. Take time to nurture

    your own dreams and talents, and love yourself the way you love others.

    I wish for you happiness, true love and a man who will give you all the
    joy a partner can.

    Love you always,

    Grammy Rose

    P.S. Inside you will find something old, something new, something
    borrowed and something

    blue.

    Rebecca wiped a tear from her eye, then picked up the lacy bride’s book
    and stroked a hand over the embossed silver bells. With a wistful sigh,
    she flipped the pages, imagining the blank white spaces filled with
    signatures of guests.

    Guests at her own wedding.

    Knowing she was being silly, she laid the book down and dug deeper into
    the chest. A blue garter lay nestled on top of a larger white envelope.
    She placed the garter around her wrist and opened the envelope, her
    mouth gaping when she found a blank marriage license inside. What in the
    world was Grammy doing putting a marriage license in there? Did she
    expect Rebecca to need one in a hurry?

    A nervous bubble of laughter escaped her at the thought.

    Occasionally Grammy did some wacky things, just as various other members
    of the Hartwell clan had been known to do. This obviously was one of them.

    Next she thumbed through the book on dream analysis. What on earth would
    analyzing your dreams have to do with getting married?

    The corner of a small children’s book peeked out. The Ugly Duckling,
    Rebecca traced her finger over the picture of the little yellow duck on
    the front, then the beautiful white swan, thinking she had always been
    the duck, Suzanne the swan. But she smiled as