Free A Promise at Bluebell Hill by Emma Cane

bites and chewing a long time.
    â€œVery exciting about Ashley Ludlow marrying the president’s son,” Janet said.
    â€œWhat?” Ben said, looking between them in surprise.
    â€œOh, we’re not supposed to tell anyone,” Janet explained. “I must not have showed you the wedding invitation that just came in the mail. You don’t care all that much about weddings, anyway.”
    â€œMaybe not,” Monica said, “but since this one will be taking place in Valentine Valley, and the president will be attending, this might be one wedding to capture your interest.”
    â€œWow,” Ben said mildly.
    â€œBut you really can’t tell anyone,” Monica amended in a serious voice. “They’re trying not to make this a circus.”
    â€œFine by me.”
    â€œBut Ashley wants me to do the flowers for the wedding!” Monica said excitedly, and they talked for a while about her plans and how the business had been going lately. Thank goodness, nobody asked about the stranger lurking around her shop.
    At last, her dad excused himself to go work on his vintage Mustang in the garage since she and her mom would be leaving for their meeting soon. He didn’t ask what the meeting was about. Monica watched Janet’s eyes follow him out, and there was no disguising her troubled expression.
    â€œWhat going on with you and Dad?” Monica asked.
    Janet gave her a phony smile. “Nothing at all, so don’t you worry about it. Every marriage has the occasional patch where you don’t get each other. We’ll be fine.”
    This seemed more serious than that, and Monica felt a little lump in her stomach although she told herself she’d just eaten too fast. “Is whatever”—­she waved her hand toward the garage door—­“the reason you’re suddenly so interested in the widows’ latest cause? You disapproved of it when Missy and I were younger.”
    â€œI never disapproved of the causes, ” Janet said, pointing at her with a meatball on a fork. “I disapproved of the way the protests were handled, and I disapproved of your youth and how things could backfire and ruin college for you. And after that photo came out, and strangers were calling you or showing up at the door or using that photo for their own purposes—­well, it only made me more nervous.”
    Monica sighed. “That was one bad side effect. It didn’t negate the good work we did bringing environmental issues into the public eye.”
    â€œI see that. And now that you’re all grown-­up, I’d like to be a part of it.”
    â€œI notice you didn’t remind Dad of where you’re going—­does he know?”
    â€œIt’s none of his business.”
    Monica straightened abruptly, no longer hungry. “None of Dad’s business? Are you embarrassed?”
    â€œNot a bit! But I want this to be for me. He has his friends in the vintage-­car-­racing world; I need to develop my own interests. Don’t think you’re the only one who was inspired by Grandpa Shaw’s stories of the marches. I don’t remember a lot from those days, but I do remember the occasional suspicious looks when I shopped in certain stores. And, sadly, that still happens.”
    And what was Monica supposed to say to that? “I suggest you don’t tell Dom unless you have to,” she finally said, taking her plate to the sink and rinsing it off. “He still hasn’t forgiven me for that photo.”
    â€œNonsense.” Janet opened the dishwasher.
    â€œOh, we get along, but . . .” She let her words trail off. Dom’s reaction had almost made Missy come clean about the whole deception. Monica hadn’t allowed it.
    â€œI hope you’re not trying to change my mind,” Janet said softly.
    â€œI’m not, I promise. I’ve just been curious about the