Make time for friends. Make time forDebbie Macomber.
CEDAR COVE
16 Lighthouse Road 204 Rosewood Lane 311 Pelican Court 44 Cranberry Point 50 Harbor Street 6 Rainier drive 74 Seaside Avenue 8 Sandpiper Way 92 Pacific Boulevard 1022 Evergreen Place 1105 Yakima Street
BLOSSOM STREET
The Shop on Blossom Street A Good Yarn Susannah’s Garden (previously published as Old Boyfriends) Back on Blossom Street (previously published as Wednesdays at Four) Twenty Wishes Summer on Blossom Street Hannah’s List A Turn in the Road
Thursdays at Eight
Christmas in Seattle
Falling for Christmas A Mother’s Gift Angels at Christmas A Mother’s Wish
The Manning Sisters
The Manning Brides The Manning Grooms
Praise forNew York Timesbestselling author
Debbie Macomber
‘Debbie Macomber is a skilled storyteller
and a sure-buy with readers’ —Publishers Weekly
‘Just what the doctor ordered for that feel-good factor’
—Sunday Express on Hannah’s List
‘A charming and touching tale of love,
loss and friendship’ —Closer magazine on Hannah’s List
‘Another touching read from Macomber’
—OK! magazine on Susannah’s Garden
‘An emotional, heart-warming and
highly enjoyable read’ —Closer magazine on Thursdays at Eight
‘She’s sold seventy million books and this
is another heart-tugger’ —Evening Telegraph on A Turn in the Road
‘Debbie Macomber’s books have such a lovely
feel-good factor to them’ —lovereading
It was one of those days. Jason Manning scrubbed his hands in the stainless-steel sink, then applied ointment to several scratches. He’d just finished examining and prescribing antibiotics for a feisty Persian cat with a bladder infection. The usually ill-mannered feline had never been his most cooperative patient, but today she’d taken a particular dislike to Jason.
He left the examining room and was greeted by Stella, his receptionist, who steered him toward his office. She wore a suspiciously silly grin, as if to say “this should be interesting.”
“There’s a young lady who’d like a few minutes with you,” was all the information she’d give him. Her cryptic message didn’t please him any more than the Persian’s blatant distaste for him had.
Curious, Jason moved into his book-lined office. “Hello,” he said in the friendliest voice he could muster.
“Hi.” A teenage girl who seemed vaguely familiar stood as he entered the room. She glanced nervously in his direction as if he should recognize her. When it was obvious he didn’t, she introduced herself. “I’m Carrie Weston.” She paused, waiting expectantly.
“Hello, Carrie,” Jason said. He’d seen her around, but for the life of him, couldn’t recall where. “How can I help you?”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Ah … no.” He couldn’t see any point in pretending. If a cat could outsmart him, he was fair game for a teenager.
“We’re neighbors. My mom and I live in the same apartment complex as you.”
He did his best to smile and nod as though he’d immediately placed her, but he hadn’t. He racked his brain trying to recall which apartment was hers. Although he owned and managed the building, Jason didn’t interact much with his tenants. He was careful to choose renters who cared about their privacy as much as he cared about his. He rarely saw any of them other than to collect the rent, and even then most just slipped their checks under his door around the first of the month.
Carrie sat back down, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. “I—I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve been trying to talk to you for some time, and … and this seemed to be the only way I could do it without my mother finding out.”
“Your mother?”
“Charlotte Weston. We live in 1-A.”
Jason nodded. The Westons had been in the apartment for more than a year. Other than when they’d signed the rental agreement, Jason couldn’t recall speaking to either the mother or her daughter.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not a problem … exactly.” Carrie stood once again and opened her purse, taking out a thin wad of bills, which she leafed through and counted slowly. When she’d finished, she looked up at him. “It’s my mother,” she announced.
“Yes?” Jason prompted. He didn’t have a clue where this conversation was leading or how long it would take the girl to get there. Stella knew he had a terrier waiting, yet she’d purposely routed him into his office.
“She needs a man,” Carrie said, squaring her shoulders.