Harriet Beamer Strikes Gold Read Online Free

hazelnut.”
    “That would be delightful,” Harriet said. As soon as the word left her mouth she wanted to reel it back in. Now she was just sounding pretentious and silly. Who says “delightful”? Shewent back to surveying the kitchen, which opened up into a family room with a large window overlooking Florence’s backyard. Harriet saw a small, wrought-iron plant stand on the right side of the window that reminded her of a staircase, and each step had a row of African Violets in terra-cotta pots. Harriet had grown African Violets back home.
    “And I made an apple pie yesterday,” Florence added.
    “Henry loves your pies. And well, they really are quite scrumptious.” There she went again. Quite scrumptious. Henry would never say, “Quite scrumptious.” But she did feel the need to confess that she enjoyed Florence’s pies.
    Humphrey, who was resting under the table, let go a quiet woof.
    “And Humphrey also,” Florence said. “He always enjoys a slice—unless you’d prefer he not have any.”
    “Maybe just a very small slice. Eating too many apples sometimes gives him the collywobbles.”
    Florence laughed a hearty laugh. “Collywobbles? Honestly, you are a nut.”
    Harriet ignored the remark and watched Florence slice two large pieces of apple pie. And one smaller Humphrey-sized slice.
    Harriet took a small bite and let it sit in her mouth a moment before chewing. She let all the cinnamon and allspice, apple goodness swirl around before chewing. She couldn’t help it. The pie was that good. Memorable even. “Oh dear,” Harriet said. “This is the best pie I have ever eaten. I mean that sincerely. You should have a shop.”
    Florence only smiled. “My daughter keeps trying to talk me into opening a bakery, exclusive to pies. But in this economy? No thanks.”
    “Well, thank you very much. It’s delicious. So do you have one child, then?”
    “Yes. She’s grown now, of course.”
    Harriet nodded. “Henry is an only child.” How she hated that phrase—as though there was something wrong with having just one child. Martha had one child too.
    “I know,” Florence said as she took a bite of pie. “He told me.”
    Harriet chewed, swallowed, and then sipped her coffee. Florence probably knew everything about Henry. Maybe he even told her why he sold his father’s business. Maybe it was easier to talk to Florence than to his own mother. She was surprised he hadn’t visited Florence since Harriet had come to live with him and Prudence. Or had he and just not mentioned it? She didn’t always know where Henry was when he went out. But Florence certainly had not been over to visit him.
    “So how are you enjoying Grass Valley?” Florence asked after a pause.
    Harriet looked into the backyard as though the answer to Florence’s question was out there with the rose bushes. “It’s lovely. Nice weather. Always smells like pine trees.”
    “You don’t sound convinced.” Florence finished her last bite of pie.
    “Oh, it’s not that I’m not convinced. I guess I’m just feeling a bit homesick.” Henry was right. Florence Caldwell was easy to talk to, and she kind of reminded her of Martha.
    “Perhaps you should get involved,” Florence said. “Make some new friends. I mean, besides me, of course. Henry said you collect salt and pepper shakers. I’m not certain, I’ve never heard of one, but there might be a club nearby.”
    Bells rang like Big Ben in Harriet’s head. Her suspicions about Henry calling this woman when she had expressly told him not to were probably right. “Did my Henry put you up to this? Did he call you and tell you to invite me in for pie and to talk me into—”
    Florence smiled. “Don’t be upset, Harriet. He just loves you. He wants you to be happy.”
    “I know. I just don’t know my way around here. Prudence is way too busy with her fancy dancy job, and Henry is always on a deadline or something. And he doesn’t like me driving his BMW, not really. For