ALSO BY MARIE BOSTWICK
THE COBBLED COURT QUILTS SERIES
Apart at the Seams (Cobbled Court Quilts #6)
Ties That Bind (Cobbled Court Quilts #5)
Threading the Needle (Cobbled Court Quilts #4)
A Thread So Thin (Cobbled Court Quilts #3)
A Thread of Truth (Cobbled Court Quilts #2)
A Single Thread (Cobbled Court Quilts #1)
TOO MUCH, TEXAS NOVELS
Between Heaven and Texas
From Here to Home
NOVELS
On Wings of the Morning
River’s Edge
Fields of Gold
The Second Sister
The Promise Girls
NOVELLAS
“The Yellow Rose of Christmas” in Secret Santa
“The Presents of Angels” in Snow Angels
“A High-Kicking Christmas” in Comfort and Joy
Just in Time
MARIE BOSTWICK
KENSINGTON BOOKS
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
With Many Thanks to . . .
Prologue - Grace
Chapter 1 - Grace
Chapter 2 - Grace
Chapter 3 - Monica
Chapter 4 - Grace
Chapter 5 - Nan
Chapter 6 - Grace
Chapter 7 - Grace
Chapter 8 - Nan
Chapter 9 - Grace
Chapter 10 - Nan
Chapter 11 - Monica
Chapter 12 - Grace
Chapter 13 - Grace
Chapter 14 - Grace
Chapter 15 - Nan
Chapter 16 - Monica
Chapter 17 - Grace
Chapter 18 - Nan
Chapter 19 - Grace
Chapter 20 - Grace
Chapter 21 - Grace
Chapter 22 - Grace
Chapter 23 - Grace
Chapter 24 - Grace
Chapter 25 - Monica
Chapter 26 - Nan
Chapter 27 - Grace
Chapter 28 - Grace
Chapter 29 - Nan
Chapter 30 - Nan
Chapter 31 - Grace
Chapter 32 - Monica
Chapter 33 - Grace
Chapter 34 - Monica
Chapter 35 - Grace
Chapter 36 - Grace
Chapter 37 - Monica
Chapter 38 - Monica
Chapter 39 - Grace
Chapter 40 - Grace
Chapter 41 - Nan
Chapter 42 - Grace
Two Years Later
Chapter 43 - Monica
Chapter 44 - Nan
Chapter 45 - Grace
JUST IN TIME
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
THE PROMISE GIRLS
FROM HERE TO HOME
THE SECOND SISTER
BETWEEN HEAVEN AND TEXAS
A THREAD OF TRUTH
A THREAD SO THIN
THREADING THE NEEDLE
TIES THAT BIND
APART AT THE SEAMS
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2018 by Marie Bostwick
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
eISBN-13: 978-1-4967-0924-0
eISBN-10: 1-4967-0924-1
First Kensington Electronic Edition: April 2018
ISBN: 978-1-4967-0923-3
For my sister, Donna,
who has the tenacity of a terrier,
the loyalty of a Lab,
and the caring heart of a Cavalier
With Many Thanks to . . .
Martin Biro, my patient, thorough, book-loving editor, for working so hard to make the story perfect and, in turn, make me look smarter than I am.
Liza Dawson, my extraordinary literary agent, sometime therapist, and friend, for courage when mine runs short and never letting me settle for less than my best.
To Cathy Lamb, awesome author and great girlfriend, for staying up late and being so willing to take panicked phone calls from blocked wordsmiths.
Donna Gomer, my creative and imaginative sister, for plot input and expertise in all things dogs that made this book more fun to read, and to write.
Betty and John Walsh, my sister and brother-in-law, for first-round reading and copyediting, as well as cheerleading above and beyond the call of duty.
Lisa Sundell Olsen, my Very Sparkly Assistant, for a willing heart, sunny attitude, and wicked good organizational skills.
Amy Skinner, my creative and always on the ball publicist, for taking care of getting the word out so I can focus on getting the book done.
Davyne Verstandig, my dear friend, for beautiful poetry that inspired some of the themes and scenes in this book.
Faithful Readers, for making it possible for me to do what I love.
Prologue
Grace
For a long time now, my conversations with Jamie have been imaginary. That doesn’t stop me from having them.
When I first met Nan and Monica and told him about the bizarre circumstances of our connection, Jamie didn’t laugh, but he wanted to. I could tell from the way he worked to suppress his smile, and how his blue eyes somehow looked bluer under the disbelieving arc of his brows, the way they do when he thinks I’ve done something ridiculous but adorable.
“Wait. Let me make sure I’m getting this right. Your support group is made up of support group dropouts?” he asked.
Except he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything.
Imagination has served me well, always. But it has its limitations. Or maybe we do. I do. Either way, there comes a point when you want something more concrete, a record and a response, a declaration of fact, or what you believe the facts to be. I realize there’s no narrator as unreliable as one who tells his own story. But who else have we got?
Carl Sagan, the American cosmologist, once said, “We are made of star-stuff.” I’ve always liked that quote. Jamie did too. It’s such a pretty notion.
But as I sit here, perched on top of this rock in this treeless and windswept spot that isn’t really close to the top of the world but feels like it could be, my lungs working to glean enough oxygen for existence, and look out across the vista of gray, and green, and granite to a spot on the horizon that might be the end of the world or the beginning, I understand in a way I never have before the limits of imagination. And everything else.
Only a
