The Prodigal Comes Home by Kathryn Springer

greeting.
    “I’m new in town, too,” Abby said.
    That explained it, then. Abby Porter hadn’t connected the name Zoey Decker with the tragedy that had rocked the small town.
    She spared a glance at Kate, surprised to find her expression still as open and friendly as Zoey remembered.
    “And this is Emma Sutton.” Kate made the introduction for the other woman standing next to her. “Zoey Decker is Liz’s granddaughter.”
    If that was the only thing Zoey was known for, she would be content.
    “Hello.” Emma flashed a shy but pleasant smile. “Delia mentioned that you were going to be our hostess for the evening.”
    Zoey tried not to cringe.
    What else had Delia said?
    “Not the hostess,” she denied. “I just put on a pot of coffee.” She glanced at Kate. “Actually, Kate provided the dessert.”
    “Pie, right?” Abby crossed her arms. “Just to show me up.”
    Zoey blinked.
    “Abby bought the old Bible camp on the lake and turned it into a bed and breakfast last summer.” Kate’s shamrock-green eyes sparkled with laughter. She lowered her voice in a stage whisper. “She’s a phenomenal cook, but my pies are better.”
    Abby nodded, not at all offended by the claim. “I’m trying to talk her into supplying the desserts for the inn. She claims that she’s too busy, but I never take no for an answer.”
    “Neither does Kate,” Emma murmured.
    Both women smiled smugly, as if she had given them a compliment.
    “Well, have fun.” Zoey hoped they would take the hint.
    “Aren’t you going to join us?” Abby asked.
    “Me?” Zoey’s eyes widened. “I don’t knit.”
    And even though these three women didn’t look at her as if she were a stain on their best sweater, Zoey wasn’t ready to face Delia Peake and the rest of Gran’s friends from Church of the Pines.
    “That makes four of us then,” Kate said cheerfully. “You’d be in good company. We’re the newest members of the Knit-Our-Hearts-Together group.” She shifted her weight to model the canvas tote draped over her shoulder. The light from the chandelier bounced off a pair of metallic-green knitting needles poking out of the top.
    “I just joined last fall,” Emma chimed in. “I’m working on a scarf for my husband’s birthday, but at the rate it’s going, it will have to be a Christmas present instead.”
    “I thought it was supposed to be a wedding gift.” Kate grinned.
    Emma blushed but didn’t deny it.
    “Emma and Jake got married a few months ago,” Abby explained. “Technically, she’s still on her honeymoon.”
    Zoey’s fingers curled around the banister for support. “I don’t think—”
    “At least give it a try,” Kate interrupted. “I’m sure Liz has some needles and yarn you can borrow.”
    “And if you don’t like to knit, you can always eat pie,” Abby interjected.
    Zoey sighed. Apparently Emma was right. They weren’t going to take no for an answer.
    Half an hour later, Zoey wished they had.
    The knitting group had grown in membership over the years, but Zoey recognized many of the women who crowded into the parlor. Gran took a moment at the beginning of the meeting to introduce her, but judging from the expressions on the women’s faces, which ranged from mild disapproval to outright hostility, it hadn’t been necessary.
    Zoey could almost read their thoughts. Ten years ago, what was supposed to have been a day of celebration had turned into a day of mourning instead. Because of her.
    Rose Williams, who arrived a few minutes late, looked ready to walk out when she spotted Zoey sitting by the fireplace. If Esther Redstone hadn’t waved her over and pointed to an empty chair, Zoey had no doubt the woman would have stormed out rather than spend an hour in the same room with her.
    Rose and Tyler Curtis’s mother had been close friends and even though the rest of the group had settled in and started to work on their projects, Zoey could still feel the woman’s glare across the room.
    If only