On a Wing and a Prayer

Chapter One

The night was dark as pitch, the moon and stars erased by a thick cloud cover that gave those wandering outdoors the feeling that they were in the midst of a cavernous mine.

It was after nine o'clock, considered late by most Dorsetville standards. Still, the members of Saint Cecilia's parish council lingered, attributable to both Mrs. Norris's apple-cranberry pie and the icy patches that only hours ago had been soft pools of water under the March thaw. Folks huddled over hot cups of coffee, reluctant to brave the brisk wind, the icy interiors of their cars, or the dark drive home.

Father James watched George Benson cut his fourth wedge of pie and a slice of Vermont cheddar. At this rate, there wouldn't be any leftovers, a problem he had never encountered before George was elected to the parish council.

"Pass the cream," George said, refilling his coffee mug.

Harry Clifford had brought a large thermos of coffee from the Country Kettle. This, too, George had nearly depleted. Father James passed the cream and harnessed a growing sense of resentment.

George wolfed down a sizable wedge of cheese, licked his fingers, then belched. His manners were about as uncouth as his appearance--greasy overalls, oil-stained fingers. This newest council member owned a heating and air-conditioning business and didn't feel it necessary to wash or change for meetings, which accounted for the strategic seating arrangements. George sat alone on one side of the ten-foot table. Ethel Johnson, Harriet Bedford, Sam Rosenberg (who had driven Harriet), Mary Pritchett, Harry Clifford, Mike Gallagher, and Father James were crowded along the opposite side. Ethel's golden retriever, Honey, lay underneath.

"I heard that you and your wife have been looking to buy some real estate down south," George told Harry Clifford, scraping the last bit of pastry off his plate with his thumb.

"How'd you hear that?" Harry wanted to know.

"Esther Fitzsimons told me. I was fixing her toilet the other day. You wouldn't believe what was stuffed down there. It looked like--"

"George " Father James interrupted forcefully. "We really don't need to know the details."

"Are you and Nellie thinking about buying a vacation home?" Harriet asked.

"We considered it."

"They're moving down there. Permanently. They're retiring," George stated emphatically.

"Retiring?" Father James said with a gasp, splashing coffee down the front of his shirt.

"Now wait a minute--" Harry began.

"That's what Esther told me," George said, plowing right over Harry's protestations. "She said that Nellie came into school last week complaining about the cold and said that they were moving someplace warm."

"Moving?" Ethel said, sinking back in her chair. Honey, sensing something was deeply wrong, leaned heavily against her lap.

For several seconds folks sat in stunned silence. Harry's retirement had never occurred to any of them. Harry owned the Country Kettle, and Dorsetville without the Country Kettle was . . . well . . . unimaginable.

Where would Mike Gallagher take his ten-year-old twin boys for malteds after their hockey games; or Father James go for home fries, golden brown with c

The residents of the New England town of Dorsetville are dealing with many of their own issues, but they rally together when the Gallagher twins accidently fall through the ice.

The New England town of Dorsetville, “where miracles are never far away,” faces unexpected challenges in this much-anticipated fourth volume of Katherine Valentine’s beloved series.

The rumor mill is running at full speed: the Country Kettle Café, meeting place for everyone who’s anyone, may close down now that the owner’s wife has struck it rich. Deputy Hill is devastated over his open-ended assignment to the graveyard shift, his just desserts for having nearly wrecked a car and a wedding in one unfortunate mishap.

Then tragedy strikes: the Gallagher twins are fighting for their lives after a fall through the ice—one on life support and the other in a coma. Doc Hammond is waging his own battle for life while helping the twins. More than ever, Dorsetville needs a miracle.