Fifteen Chapters Of Love

Mara ignored the accusation and lowered herself farther. The willow’s roots scratched her shoulder. The river pressed cold against her calves as she reached beneath the tangle. Her fingers closed around something small and metallic.

Not the ring. A bent brass clasp.

She pulled it free and examined it. Mud streaked the ridges. A piece of blue thread clung to one end.

From the path came the hurried slap of shoes.

“Mara.”

She knew that voice. Jonah Rourke.

She turned too quickly and struck her elbow against a root. Pain sparked down her arm. Jonah stood above the bank, one hand braced on the trunk, his dark hair wind-tossed and his wedding-hall jacket unbuttoned. He had the kind of stillness that made everyone else seem careless. Even now, with the ceremony less than an hour away, he looked as if he had stepped out of some quieter world.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No.”

His gaze moved from her muddy boots to the brass clasp in her hand. “What did you find?”

“A clue, perhaps.”

“Clues are not what my brother needs.”

“Then perhaps your brother should keep better track of his ring.”

The words came sharper than she intended. Jonah’s expression changed, though only slightly.

“He didn’t lose it.”

Mara climbed up onto the bank. “That is an interesting distinction.”

“He took it off while washing his hands in the hall. He set it beside the basin. When he reached for it, it was gone.”

“And everyone came running to the river?”

“His sister saw someone leaving through the side doors.”

Mara wiped her muddy hand against her skirt. “Someone?”

“A woman in a brown coat.”

“I’m wearing a brown coat.”

Jonah looked at her coat hanging from a willow branch. “So I noticed.”

The wind tugged the ribbons on the hall. One snapped loose and skittered across the grass.

Mara picked up the brass clasp. “This was caught beneath the roots. Blue thread, brass fastening. Someone may have come down here from the path.”

“Or someone may have thrown the ring into the river.”

“Your confidence is reassuring.”

“I’m not asking you to search.”

“You came all the way down here to tell me that?”

“I came because everyone else is shouting, and you’re the only person who thought to look where the water would carry it.”

His voice softened on the last words. It unsettled her more than his suspicion would have.

Mara turned toward the river. “If it’s here, I can find it.”

Jonah stepped closer. “Why?”

“Because your family is tearing up the riverbank over a piece of metal, and because the bride is crying in the coatroom, and because I would like one wedding in Willowbend to reach the vows without someone accusing the kitchen staff of theft.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It’s the one you’re getting.”

He studied her for a moment. Then he took off his jacket and held it out.

Mara stared at it. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Put it on before you freeze.”

“I’m not cold.”

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m angry.”

“Those can happen together.”

The jacket was warm from his shoulders. Mara hesitated, then accepted it. The wool smelled faintly of cedar and soap. She slipped it around herself, refusing to notice how easily it settled there.

Jonah crouched at the edge of the bank. “Where did you see the flash?”

“Under the roots.”

“Then show me.”

“I work faster alone.”

“So does a thief.”

Mara’s head snapped toward him.

He seemed to regret the words immediately. “That came out wrong.”

“It came out clearly.”

“I meant that whoever took the ring may have been alone.”

“You should practice saying what you mean.”

“I’m trying.”

The river moved between them, brown and restless. Behind the trees, another shout rose from the wedding hall.

“There!” someone called. “She’s down by the water!”

Mara’s stomach tightened.

Jonah stood. “We should go back.”

“Not yet.”

“Mara - ”

She plunged her hand beneath the roots again. Mud packed under her nails. The current tugged at her sleeve. Her fingers brushed stone, then a strip of cloth, then something smooth and round wedged in the dark.

She caught it.

For a moment, she could not move. The ring was heavier than it looked, a plain gold band with a narrow line of diamonds set around its center. River water slid from it in bright beads.

“I found it,” she said.

Jonah exhaled. “Give it to me.”

Mara closed her fingers around the ring. “No. I’ll return it.”

“Mara, if you walk up holding that, they’ll think - ”

“They already think whatever they please.”

She climbed the bank. The mud gave way beneath her boot. Jonah caught her elbow, steadying her before she fell. His hand remained there a second too long.

At the top of the path stood Clara Vale, the groom’s sister, flanked by two aunts and half the wedding party. Her pale blue dress was immaculate, her blond hair pinned so tightly that not a strand moved in the wind.

Her eyes fixed on Mara’s muddy hands.

“What is that?” Clara asked.

Mara held up the ring. “Your brother’s.”

A murmur passed through the group.

Clara crossed the grass. “Where did you get it?”

“Under the willow roots.”

“You went into the river?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Mara glanced at Jonah. He had released her elbow, but the warmth of his hand seemed to remain.

“Because it was there.”

Clara’s gaze dropped to Jonah’s jacket around Mara’s shoulders. Her face hardened.

“You were alone with her?” she asked him.

Jonah’s jaw tightened. “I came down when I heard she was searching.”

“How convenient.”

“Clara,” he said.

“No, let her explain.” Clara turned back to Mara. “You heard about the ring before anyone else?”

“I heard the shouting.”

“And you went straight to the river.”

“I went where the water runs.”

“You were seen near the side entrance.”

“So were dozens of people.”

“Wearing a brown coat.”

Mara felt the eyes of the wedding party move over her. Her coat hung from the willow behind them, unmistakably brown.

“I left it there before I searched.”

Clara laughed once, without humor. “You expect us to believe you found a valuable ring in the river by accident?”

“I expect you to look at it.”

Mara extended her hand.

Clara did not take the ring. Instead, she caught Mara’s wrist.

The movement was quick, almost graceful. Her fingers closed around Mara’s muddy sleeve.

“Where is the setting?” Clara demanded.

Mara stared at her. “What?”

“The ring had a small sapphire set inside the band. My brother showed it to me this morning.”

Mara looked down. The ring was plain gold, diamonds circling the outer edge. No sapphire.

Jonah stepped forward. “Clara, stop.”

“You found a different ring.”

“I found the one I saw in the basin,” Mara said.

Clara’s grip tightened. “You took the sapphire out.”

A silence fell so sharply that Mara heard the river striking stones below.

“That is absurd.”

“Is it?” Clara said. “You knew exactly where to look. You had mud on your hands before anyone saw you. And now the ring is missing its stone.”

“I never touched the ring until this moment.”

“Then let me see it.”

Clara snatched for Mara’s hand. Mara pulled back, and the ring slipped from her fingers.

It struck a stone.

The tiny sound seemed to ring louder than the church bell.

The band rolled once through the grass and stopped at Jonah’s boot. He bent and picked it up.

“Give it to me,” Clara said.

Jonah did not move.

“Jonah.”

He looked at the ring, then at Mara. His face had gone unreadable.

“Clara, this is the ring.”

“Then hand it over.”

He did. Clara seized it and examined the inside of the band. Her thumb rubbed at the mud.

“There,” she said.

“What?” Mara asked.

Clara held the ring up. A dark smear marked the gold. “You scratched it.”

Mara stared. “The river scratched it.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t care what you believe.”

Clara’s eyes flashed. “You should. My family paid for the hall where you work. My father keeps half this town employed. If that ring is damaged, or if the sapphire is missing, you will answer for it.”

Mara felt heat rise beneath her skin. “Your family’s money does not make you right.”

“No,” Clara said. “But it makes people listen.”

The words landed harder than the accusation.

Behind Clara, the bride appeared in the hall doorway, pale and trembling. The groom stood beside her, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, his face drawn tight.

“Clara,” he said. “What is happening?”

“She found the ring,” Jonah answered.

The groom looked at Mara. “Thank God.”

Clara turned on him. “It’s missing the sapphire.”

His expression faltered. “What sapphire?”

“The one inside.”

He took the ring from her. “There was no sapphire.”

Clara’s face changed, just for an instant. Then she looked at Mara again.

“She must have taken it before she brought this back.”

Mara laughed, but nothing in her felt amused. “You cannot accuse me of stealing something that was never there.”

“I saw it this morning.”

“You saw a reflection.”

“I know what I saw.”

Jonah stepped between them. “Enough.”

Clara’s attention shifted to him. “You’re defending her?”

“I’m stopping you from turning a missing ring into a public trial.”

“She was the only person searching.”

“She was the only person willing to get in the river.”

“And you were the only one who followed her.”

A murmur stirred behind them. Mara saw the question pass from face to face: why had Jonah gone after her?

Jonah’s eyes stayed on Clara. “Because I thought she might need help.”

Clara smiled thinly. “Of course you did.”

Mara felt the cost of his defense gather around them, invisible but heavy. The ring had been found. That should have been enough. Instead, every face had turned suspicious, and Jonah’s family had begun measuring her against a wealth she could never match.

She reached for her coat, but Jonah caught her hand.

“Wait,” he said quietly.

“For what?”

“For me to tell them the truth.”

“You already did.”

“No. I told them what I saw.”

“And what did you see?”

His fingers loosened around hers. “I saw you find it.”

Clara heard him. Everyone did.

Mara pulled her hand away. “Then say that louder.”

Jonah looked at her, and something unguarded crossed his face. Not pity. Not doubt. Something more dangerous.

“I saw Mara Ellison pull the ring from beneath the willow roots,” he said. “I saw no sapphire. I saw no theft.”

For one breath, no one spoke.

Then Clara lifted the ring between two fingers.

“Perhaps you saw what she wanted you to see,” she said.

The wedding bell began to strike again, calling everyone inside. The groom took his bride’s arm. Guests moved toward the hall, whispering as they went.

Mara stood in the middle of the river path with mud drying on her hands and Jonah’s jacket around her shoulders.

Clara passed close enough for Mara to hear her.

“By the time the vows are over,” she murmured, “this whole town will know what you did.”

Mara watched her disappear through the hall doors.

Jonah remained beside her. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For bringing you into this.”

“You didn’t bring me anywhere.” Mara looked down at the river, where the current carried a scrap of blue thread away from the bank. “I walked in myself.”

He followed her gaze. “What is that?”

Mara bent and picked up the thread from the wet grass. It was the same shade as the groom’s wedding sash, knotted around a tiny brass clasp.

She closed her fist over it.

“I don’t know yet,” she said.

Inside the hall, the organ began to play. Outside, Clara’s accusation moved through the guests faster than music, and Jonah Rourke stood close enough that Mara could feel the heat of him through his jacket.

The ring had been returned.

Nothing else had been restored.

End of chapter one. 14 more chapters in the full book.