Twelve Graves of Christmas – A Jane Ladling Mystery Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Novella, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
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But nothing.

Bolstered, she continued. “I mean, what if Conrad is right and all Ladling ladies lost their men because we cursed ourselves? We expected doom, therefore fear colored each of our thoughts and actions, paving the way to the very ending we sought to avoid. Stress is a leading factor of heart attacks, right? Need an example, look at Sheriff Moore. But honestly, I don’t fit any of Conrad’s qualifications for a girlfriend.”

From the highest high to the lowest low. She wasn’t unwaveringly kind, savagely honest, fiercely loyal, or lovingly vicious. Nor was she enchantingly naïve and bafflingly smart in the most illogical ways, with stunning confidence and odd insecurities in equal measure. Right?

Footsteps caught her attention, and she went still. Someone approached.

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” she whispered to her grandmother, then double-patted her headstone. As Grandma Lily used to say, one pat was never enough.

Rusty hinges released a shriek of protest as Fiona pushed past the iron gate positioned between two towering trees forever standing guard at the entrance of Paradise Ladling. She wore a lovely Christmas sweater that was black with bedazzled snowmen.

Overjoyed to see her friend, Jane hastened closer and hugged her tight. “Aren’t you cold?”

Drawing back, Fee pretended to shiver. “Positively frosty. But wear a coat so no one gets to see this beauty? Not on your life.”

Jane’s eyes narrowed. “Oh really? How come you and Grandma Lily didn’t understand such bulletproof logic when you insisted I wear Pops’s old peacoat at Halloween, covering up my gorgeous princess costume?”

“That’s the privilege of age,” Fiona replied with a wink. “We get to be ridiculous knowing we’re being ridiculous and not caring one whit.”

Fair enough. “How was your first Thanksgiving with the sheriff and his family?” Jane asked with a smile.

“Oh, honey. I now know why my sweetie had a heart attack. Not a moment of levity and so many squabbles over the most trivial of things. Some tweet about potato salad nearly led to a knock down drag out rumble. And that was before Raymond’s ex-wife arrived. How about you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Amazing, then terrible, then amazing again. By the end, it was so good I think I’m forever changed in the worst way.” Jane gave her friend another hug. “The idea of ever spending a holiday without Conrad shreds me.”

“Well, then. We both need a distraction, and I know just the thing,” Fiona announced, tugging a skein of ruby red yarn from her bag.

Yes. The time had come to shift her focus off Conrad. “Knitting?”

“Better than that.” The grandmother’s infectious enthusiasm lifted Jane’s spirits immediately. Until she heard her friend’s next words. “Hon, it’s time to put yourself back together again.” The older woman drew out a pattern featuring a heart with a jagged line running along the center, separating it into two halves.

A broken heart, now mended.

Her spirits dropped once again, harder than a lead ball. “I’m not sure how knitting the heart will help.”

“Jane Eleanor Ladling. Are you learning nothing from your Grandma Lily’s letters? You need a reminder of what you’re fighting for, and the finished heart will provide one. Really, what’s a better risk than love?”

Stomach heavy, she shuffled a step back, as if she needed physical space from such a challenging question. “Maybe. But we’re not just talking about me. I’ll be putting Conrad’s life in danger.”

Fiona’s head cocked to the side, and she lifted a brow. “If ever there was a man strong enough to break a curse, wouldn’t it be Conrad?”

Exactly what Wyatt had said. And Beau. And Fiona.

Once again footsteps rang out, someone else approaching the area. Had Conrad returned at last? Anticipation engulfed her. And dread. Then, Conrad was there, sans Cheddar but with Beau.

The former agent looked incredible, as always, but he looked especially incredible bathed in morning light. Worn denim hugged his hips and molded to his powerful thighs. No matter what he wore, he always stole her breath.

Beau was a smoke show in his typical chief security officer outfit: black tactical pants and black polo with Peach State Security embroidered over his heart in, of course, peach. For some reason, he had rejected parading in the skintight faux leather pants Jane had found on the internet, because any thief or no-gooder would immediately surrender in the sight of such manliness. Beau had mumbled something about “impracticality” but c’mon. You had to dress for the job you wanted.

Both men grinned with so much satisfaction, they reminded her of Rolex after he munched on a grasshopper.

Fiona gave a little squeal and clapped her hands. “Is it time?”

“Oh, yeah,” Beau said with a nod.

Jane’s brow wrinkled, her gaze glued to Conrad. “Time for what?”

“It’s a surprise,” he told her. “But we need to leave now, or the show will start without us.”

Show? They headed inside the cottage. While the others checked on the animals, Jane fetched her purse and a stunning fascinator hat with an array of bows. After blowing goodbye kisses to Rolex and Cheddar, she made her way to a shiny black SUV with all the bells and whistles. Sheriff Moore’s maybe? A retirement gift to himself? Fiona must have driven it over.


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