Grace & Maggie Across the Pond
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About this ebook
In this charming standalone novella from the Seasons of Cherryvale, Grace & Maggie travel across the pond for a bucket list pony-trekking holiday in the English countryside. Instead of carefree days in the saddle, though, the two pals find themselves giving an old friend of Maggie's a "leg up" on her own fresh start. With their trademark banter, a dose of tough love and a bit of the Gracie touch, you'll adore this cozy read, perfect for a weekend getaway with friends you'll adore.
Beverly Nault
Beverly Nault writes from a 2014 Newmar Ventana named Flight Risk. Married to her high school sweetheart, she's been penning novels and nonfiction ever since launching their gorgeous daughter Lindsay, now married to the handsome Josh, and the wise and wonderful Evan, married to the beautiful and smart Kamie. So far, the RV has taken Gary and Bev on short trips around the southwest. Stay tuned for new adventures as they develop.
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Grace & Maggie Across the Pond - Beverly Nault
A Seasons of Cherryvale Novella
Grace & Maggie Across the Pond
BEVERLY NAULT
Copyright © 2011 BEVERLY NAULT
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1497544718
ISBN-13: 9781497544710
Jubilee Press
Other Books by Beverly Nault
Fiction
The Seasons of Cherryvale
Fresh Start Summer
Grace & Maggie Across the Pond
Autumn Changes
Hearts Unlocked
Christmas Bells
Spring Blossoms
Cozy Mystery
Murder, Most Sincerely
Romantic Suspense
The Kaleidoscope
Nonfiction
Lessons from the Mountain, What I Learned from Erin Walton
with Mary McDonough
Visit www.beverlynault.com to learn more about Beverly
Acknowledgements
My husband, Gary, thanks for letting me live the dream. (and taking me to England so I could do the research. Okay, it was on the military, but it still counts.) Thanks Candace Carrabus, for telling me I could do this. Brenda, Mom, you’re the best. Lindsay and Evan, love you!
DEDICATION
To anyone who has ever gone the distance for a friend.
CHAPTER ONE
As the wheels touched tarmac into London’s Heathrow airport, Grace Harkins let out a breath and flexed her fingers to encourage the circulation to return. She picked up the tour book from her lap and checked the mark, but tossed it high when the plane hit a bump. The woman in front of her rubbed the back of her head and slid the book back between the seats. Sorry!
Grace accepted it as the plane shuddered and groaned to slower speeds, then finally turned toward the jet ways, lit from within in the early morning haze.
The flight attendant’s Welcome to London,
in a brisk English accent seemed way too cheerful for someone who had just spent the crossing reassuring Grace with glasses of ginger ale and explanations of the reliability of modern aerodynamics. But her matter-of-fact tone once again reassured Grace that all was well. She’d survived her first ever Atlantic crossing.
Pleased with herself, Grace leaned over as Maggie stirred. top o’ the mornin’ to ya.
Maggie Elmsley, world traveler and Grace’s best friend, pushed her facemask up and blinked. That’s Irish.
Pardon?
Your greeting and bad accent are Irish. We’re in England.
Fiddle. I studied these phrases so I wouldn’t embarrass you in front of Emma.
she flipped open the book. don’t want to sound like I’ve never traveled outside my own state.
Maggie ducked her frazzled red curls and hauled up the bag Grace called Purse Everest. I have to say I’m proud of you. Your first airline travel and you cross the ocean. No one would guess a few months ago you were a white knuckler.
Except I didn’t sleep a wink all night. Not like some people who can wake up, eat breakfast, and then doze through the descent.
Grace wrestled her own carry-on to her lap and shoved the tour book inside. Thumping below them jump-started her heart again, and she bumped her head on the window, squinting at baggage handlers working below.
She regretted starting the trip on a sour note. "I appreciate the support, thanks for staying awake with me as long as you did. Our vacation, make that pony trekking holiday, awaits!" she opened a pack of mints and offered one to Maggie, who traded her for a comb and mirror.
Your rooster tail may be appropriate for the morning hour, but you look ridiculous.
Maggie nudged her. Maybe we should find you one of those Fascinators to tame that mess.
I quite fancy the kind that would make me appear taller.
Grace smacked the ceiling in demonstration, accidentally clicking the red call
button.
The flight attendant stepped up next to Maggie, clicked the button off and waited, her lips a thin line of patience.
Sorry, just doing some stretching this time,
Grace winced.
The young woman smiled, returned to her post, and pulled the mic out to finish her announcement. Local time is 6:45 a.m..
she eyed Grace, now combing her hair. On behalf of your London-based crew, we thank you for choosing British airways and hope you have a lovely stay.
She’s praying under her breath she’s not on my return flight,
Grace whispered to Maggie, who laughed and nodded in agreement. The tone sounded and they unclicked their belts, joining the crush down the plane’s aisle to the terminal.
They negotiated baggage claim, customs, and after a grueling wait through passport control, found the cabstand, and by midmorning were settled on the train north to Newmarket.
They rumbled past office buildings, and then miles of lookalike town- homes in long rows, their narrow gardens stretching toward the tracks. Beyond that, rich fields of dirt, newly harvested and turned over, anticipated winter’s rest. The train picked up speed and Grace tried to watch, but the blur challenged her sandy eyes, and she leaned her head back to rest. Think Emma will recognize you?
Maggie handed their tickets to the conductor. Twenty years is a long time. We’ve kept up, though. Mailed back and forth. Christmas cards, sympathy cards...
her voice caught, and she cleared through it.
The conductor scanned their tickets and handed them back.
Sorry.
Grace’s stomach plunged with sudden understanding. There I go, open mouth, insert foot!
Maggie shot a thin smile. Fresh start, Grace.
They turned to the window, taking in the view of passing horse and cattle farms.
Grace rubbed her empty belly. She tried to focus on their destination, their horseback riding adventures already bought and paid for! Their agreement, whenever someone called for a fresh start, no hard feelings. But it also called for a new approach. I can’t wait to meet Emma, after hearing you speak about her all these years.
Next stop, Newmarket.
The announcement called through tinny speakers.
That’s us!
Maggie grabbed her