Free Hearts at Home by Lori Copeland Page B

but my heart isn’t in it this morning.”
    Edith snorted as she tossed the stack of letters onto the foyer table. “I never get anything but bills and credit card offers, anyway.”
    Drawing Bea into the warmth of the house, Edith closed the door and led her into the cozy kitchen. She knew how Bea felt; she’d gone on her own crying jag an hour earlier. The close-knit town had lost two residents in a short time, and each death served to remind the islanders of their own mortality.
    She turned toward the coffeepot, then heard Bea sigh. “I haven’t come empty-handed—Birdie sent this with me, probably hoping I’d find someone to share it with.”
    Edith turned in time to see the postmistress pull a white pastry box from the depths of her mailbag. She groaned as Bea lifted the lid and the warm scent of cherry chocolate coffeecake washed over her.
    â€œOhhhhhh.” Edith concentrated on the coffee mugs. “That smells good.”
    â€œIt is good. Abner’s cakes are downright sinful.”
    Edith lifted the coffee cups and turned, then stared at the gleaming chocolate cake. Why not eat some? After all, this was a unique occasion . . . and she wouldn’t be eating, she’d be ministering . Maybe the sugar would lift their spirits. Besides, she hadn’t actually started an official diet plan yet, so this could be her day of “last suppers.” Like a condemned man who splurges on his last meal, she could eat everything she wanted today and begin her diet tomorrow. She’d wear one of her tentlike corduroy dresses to the funeral and still have nearly two full months to diet for the wedding. Plenty of time to lose a few pounds and fit into her peach dress.
    She’d be good . . . tomorrow. After the funeral, she wouldn’t feel like eating, anyway.
    Bea dropped into a kitchen chair as Edith pulled two plates out of the cabinet, then sliced thick wedges of dense chocolate, her mind momentarily flashing back to the sausage and waffles she’d eaten a little over an hour ago.
    This food was okay. It was part of the Last Breakfast.
    She’d be disciplined tomorrow.
    Bea sighed. “I can’t believe Olympia’s gone.”
    Edith set a plate before her guest, then handed Bea a fork. “I’ve always said I hope the good Lord takes me quick like that. Alive one minute, with the Lord the next.”
    Bea nodded, cutting into the coffeecake. “Sudden death is hard, though, on the ones left behind. Especially since Olympia went so soon after Edmund’s passing.”
    Edith stirred sugar into her cup. Two teaspoons; she wouldn’t deprive herself today.
    She cut a piece of cake with her fork. “Olympia and Edmund are together now. I know she must be some happy.”
    With tears in her voice, Bea lifted a forkful of chocolate coffee-cake. “I suppose Winslow will be doing the service.”
    Edith closed her eyes as the rich chocolate melted on her tongue, then swallowed. “Ayuh. He will.”
    â€œI don’t suppose this crisis will interfere with Salt’s and Birdie’s wedding next month,” Bea said, slowly portioning off another bite. “I asked Birdie if she wanted to postpone the ceremony, but she said no. She and Salt don’t want to wait another minute.”
    A sudden realization struck Edith as she studied the postmistress—why, Bea wasn’t grieving only for Olympia! She had the look of a woman who had just lost her best friend, but Bea’s best friend wasn’t Olympia . . . it was Birdie.
    Beatrice Coughlin had moved to Heavenly Daze after her husband’s death to live with Birdie, her only sister. Edith knew Bea had considered the move permanent, never dreaming that Birdie would fall in love in the winter of her life. Salt Gribbon was a good man, and he’d make Birdie a devoted husband, but what would Bea do when Birdie moved out to the lighthouse? She’d be sitting by