The River House

Dear Reader (#ueaae037c-4255-5b78-9d96-47a354872123)

Praise (#ucb5e419e-9696-5353-a0ab-77e8aedb6506)

Dedication (#u92d7c9cb-51a3-5917-9632-6fac4ba0bfd6)

One (#uda9569e2-5bd4-59dc-a3a3-be4cf6db454f)

Two (#u6a4f57d3-ea16-5ff7-8e4b-5d1e9befede4)

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Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

A Recipe from Carla Neggers: Blueberry Cobbler (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

One (#uc39ca5c4-1693-51b7-94ff-f78bfe9a97be)

“We have to have badgers at your party.”

Felicity MacGregor knew her comment would raise most people’s eyebrows, but she also knew Kylie Shaw would be fine with it.

“Absolutely,” Kylie said. “Russ and I had a badger couple on our wedding cake.”

That spring, Kylie’s whirlwind romance with Russ Colton, a security consultant, had taken them both by surprise, never mind everyone else in their small town of Knights Bridge, Massachusetts. Felicity smiled. “Of course you did.” They were seated across from each other at the table on the balcony of Kylie and Russ’s second-floor apartment in a renovated nineteenth-century hat factory. The balcony overlooked the river, flowing gently on the warm summer afternoon. Russ had spent the past two weeks in Southern California, wrapping up his life and work there now that he and Kylie had decided to settle in Knights Bridge. They’d bought a house a mile or so farther up the river and were having work done on it before moving in later in the summer.

Kylie reached for her iced tea. “Russ let Sherlock Badger oversee security for the wedding,” she said, matter-of-fact.

Sherlock was one of her popular fictional characters. “I’m sure Sherlock did a fine job,” Felicity said.

“He’s the best. Russ likes to say we’ll be fine provided I don’t confuse my Middle Branch badgers with real badgers.”

“Who says your Middle Branch badgers aren’t real?”

Kylie beamed. “Exactly what I tell him!”

Felicity wouldn’t be surprised if Kylie was only half kidding. Under her pseudonym of Morwenna Mills, she was the creator of the Badgers of Middle Branch, a popular series of children’s books. Felicity, an event planner, was helping Kylie with a party to celebrate the newest installment in the series, set in an idyllic village on a river. The mom and dad badgers were veterinarians, modeled after Kylie’s own family. A tiny version of Sherlock Badger occupied a spot on Kylie’s worktable. She’d made the mini badger herself with scraps of fabric and tufts of dryer lint.

Unlike Felicity, Kylie hadn’t grown up in Knights Bridge. They’d hit it off upon Felicity’s return to her hometown in May, when she’d bought a house farther up on the river, just down from the site of Kylie and Russ’s new house. Felicity loved her house despite her complicated personal history with it, seeing how she’d lost her virginity there. Not in the house itself. It hadn’t been built yet. But on a blanket in front of the outdoor fireplace that still stood there...

“Knights Bridge is keeping you busy, Felicity,” Kylie said.

She yanked herself out of her thoughts. “Works for me. I’m having a blast.”

Kylie studied her a moment, as if guessing Felicity’s mind had wandered to someplace forbidden. They were both wearing dresses, given the warm weather, Kylie in a casual maxi, Felicity in a knee-length tunic. Kylie had her hair pulled back, its pale blond making her blue eyes stand out. Felicity had never been good with hair. Hers was dark blond, shoulder-length and unruly unless she fussed with it, which she rarely did.

“My book party is just a week after the launch of the entrepreneurial boot camp,” Kylie said. “That won’t stretch you too thin?”

“Not at all.” The one-day boot camp, the brainchild of Dylan McCaffrey, another Knights Bridge newcomer, was Felicity’s biggest event yet in her hometown. “I did corporate event planning in Boston for three years. I love being on my own, having the chance to do more fun events. Baby showers, bridal showers—your book party. I have a Jane Austen tea party on Sunday at the local assisted-living residence.”

“The aptly named Rivendell. There’s a lot of knowledge in that place.”

“No question,” Felicity said. “The tea includes a literary lecture and Regency period costumes.”

“You must know almost everyone there.” Kylie drank some of her tea and returned the glass to the table. Lunch had been simple—salads from the local country store, chocolate, iced tea. “I’m still fairly new to Knights Bridge. I’m doing better with names and faces, but I still get lost in the connections between the locals. Russ does, too, but he figures sometimes the less he knows, the better. He doesn’t want to know who slept with whom as teenagers, that’s for sure.”

Felicity wondered if her cheeks had reddened, given the turn her mind had taken a few minutes ago. “I don’t, either, but since I did grow up here...” She picked up her iced tea. “I’ll leave it at that.”