The Kiss Thief

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

THE MAPLE LEAVES SKITTERED across the sidewalk and crunched under Britta Klein’s black low-heeled shoes as she walked toward the Echo Ridge Library. She paused for a moment to watch a dark red leaf twirl in the slight wind coming from Parley’s Canyon. She narrowed her eyes—that leaf was carefree, no expectations, nothing to do but dance with the wind. She huffed. If only her life could be that simple.

It was never wise to give in to dramatics, but Britta had just gotten off the phone after talking to her mother for forty-five minutes and the message was loud and clear: Find a German man and marry him so I can have some enkelkinder. Her mother wanted grandchildren so she could spoil them with strudels and kuchen.

Britta put her hand on the cool metal handle of the door to the library, grounding herself before she headed inside to greet the staff of her library. She reminded herself, again, how good it felt to be in charge of the Echo Ridge Library. At the young age of thirty-one, Britta had achieved her dream of becoming head librarian, but the dream carried more stress than she’d ever imagined.

Tomorrow was the kickoff to the huge library fundraiser that Britta had been working on for the past three months. The children’s section was in desperate need of capital, and she worried if this venue was not a success, they’d lose patrons. The library board meeting started in fifteen minutes and Britta hoped that all of the key players for the Harvest Hurrah would show up.

The familiar, dry smell of books greeted Britta when she stepped inside. She never tired of that smell—the tart aroma of new books, freshly marked for distribution in Echo Ridge, mixed with the musty scent of books over a hundred years old that patrons could still check out. The library was once a large stone church house built in the mid-1800s. When Britta first moved to Echo Ridge for her entry-level job at the library, she’d fallen in love with the romantic building. A single staircase curved up to a loft that overlooked the open building with its stacks of books. The old choir room adjacent to the loft was now an office and an open room with a couch and table. That’s where the board meeting would be held, but when they didn’t have meetings, people could sit on the comfortable couch and read with thousands of volumes below them, seemingly waiting for their turn to be picked next.

The rickety lift that lowered into the basement had always captured her imagination—whispering of stolen kisses, shadowed mysteries, and a hideaway to read dime-store novels. Or maybe Britta infused her daydreams onto the ancient elevator. But either way, the lift needed an update so they could move the children’s section to the basement. That was of utmost importance according to Marian Montgomery, the assistant librarian and grandmother, protector, and overlord of all books. The woman was obsessed with order and decimal systems, but in a different way than Britta.

“Shh,” Marian shushed a child who jumped up and down with a picture book in front of his frazzled mother.

“Good morning.” Britta forced a smile, hoping to soften the tension humming around Marian. Her flat brown hair interlaced with gray was punctuated by the dark glasses hiding the wrinkles around her eyes. Her shoulders turned slightly inward, probably from carrying stacks of bestsellers around the library for the past seventeen years.

“Noisy ones today. No one can seem to keep their children quiet,” Marian grumbled.

“By the end of the month, we’ll be able to order the white noise transmitters to cover some of the sound,” Britta replied. The state-of-the-art speakers would sit atop each stack of books and transmit a frequency to eliminate some of the noise in the library. The high ceilings of the old church were beautiful with stained-glass windows set in the arches and over the front door, but that feature didn’t transfer well when the church became the new library. The extra space contributed to the noise problem. The echoes of children’s laughter and whispers carried upwards and echoed right back down. Britta loved the sound, but it drove Marian crazy.

“Well, I’m worried we won’t have enough funds for everything we need to do with this old building, so I’ve come up with an idea to help with the book drive,” Marian replied.

Britta brought her view back to ground level. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, no.” Marian wagged her finger. “You’ll have to wait just like everyone else for the unveiling.” She hugged her clipboard closer to her chest.

Hopefully her plans wouldn’t involve boxing up patrons under the age of ten and shipping them to Timbuktu.

“I’m heading upstairs to prep for the meeting. I’ll talk to you later.” Britta waved at Marian and meandered through the stacks to the back of the library.

Britta let her hand trail along the dark walnut railing as she climbed the staircase. The tops of the stacks looked a bit dusty. She made a mental note to have Trish clean them before the weekend. Britta’s stomach clenched with nerves when she thought of the prestigious Armand D. Beaumont flying in from France to do a special author reading for Echo Ridge. He had written over fifteen books and was a New York Times bestselling author with quite a following of readers eager to devour his next novel.

When Shennedy Layton had come to her with the idea of bringing in a famous author to kick off the library fundraiser, Britta had immediately thought of Armand because he was related—sort of. Her uncle’s sister-in-law had pulled the family strings to get Armand to come to the States.

Britta paused at the oak door which opened into the offices off the old choir loft and turned back to view her beloved library. The framed portrait of the wealthy Vannakin family hung over the circulation desk, reminding everyone of the incredible generosity that had made the Echo Ridge Library possible.

She turned and entered the meeting room, letting the door shut behind her. Britta had only a few moments to prepare before she heard the door creak open.

A blond-haired beauty in her mid-forties popped inside. “I can’t believe he’s really coming. Britta, it’s happening for Echo Ridge!” Shennedy always arrived early and her enthusiasm was catching as she flitted about the room.

“I just hope that Armand will be enough to get this fundraiser into motion. We have a lot of work to do.” Britta found herself smiling despite her worries. With Shennedy there to help her, the Harvest Hurrah would surely be a success. She had done wonders with the Big Barn Boutique, partnering with Kenworth’s to create a unique offering of antiques and handmade items. The young woman had plenty of fire and grit, and Britta reminded herself that she could relax and allow her and other board members to relieve some of the stress from her shoulders.

Britta nodded at Kirke Staples, who entered the room inconspicuously and sat down. He was a playwright, but didn’t like to talk about it much—at least the one time Britta had tried to get him to come out of his shell. He kept his head down and scrawled out notes on a pad of paper. Hopefully he would contribute to the meeting today.

The owner of Fay’s Café, Fay Griffith, came in at the same time as a husband and wife team. They sat near the front, eager to help their beloved library. When the lovely white-haired Mrs. Tumnus arrived, Britta felt reassured once again that the fundraising events were in good hands. The older woman was tiny, maybe only five-foot-three, but she carried a presence that inspired others to do their best.

At five past ten there were seven board members present, and Chayton Liechty slipped in right before Britta called the meeting to order. As a high school teacher and lacrosse coach at Echo Ridge High, his insight had proved valuable to integrate students’ needs into the library.

“Thank you all for coming today. We have several things to go over, so I printed these agendas.” Britta passed the papers around the table. “First, the book drive kicks off tomorrow. Our goal is to bring in five thousand books. Many of those books will be sold to our patrons through our revolving bookstore so that we can purchase new releases.”

“Do you have the manpower to sort through five thousand books?” Fay asked.

“We have all year to get through them,” Britta answered. “We store the extra boxes in the basement and put new ones out each month. I’ve made a request from the city for another part-time librarian who might help with that, but they’re waiting to see how the fundraiser goes because the lift project is not optional.”

Kirke nodded. “That thing is way past due for an update.”

“We also have the white noise speakers, moving the children’s section downstairs, purchasing new stacks to fill the space that creates …” Britta held up her fingers as she ticked off each item. “… a new computer table, and furniture for the children’s section.”

“Wow, this will be like a whole new library once you’re finished,” Shennedy said.

Britta beamed. “That’s the plan.”

“How much do we need to earn from the fundraiser to cover all of these projects?” Chayton asked.

Britta knew the amount, $23,583.07, to the penny. But she was hesitant to voice the total. It sounded outrageous. She swallowed, looking at the expectant faces of the library board; then she smiled. “This year we have a lot more going for us than the community has seen. My goal is to reach $25,000 with all projects combined.”

Shennedy clapped her hands, but Kirke’s mouth dropped open. Shennedy patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry. With Armand coming, it’ll blow our celebration through the roof. People are going to be driving in from all over New York to see him.”

The board members continued to discuss how they could meet their goals and several of them seemed worried about the amount needed. Ideas were shared about cutting back in order to get the most vital things the library needed. A healthy debate ensued with each person noting how valid all of the items on Britta’s list were and the dilemma they faced.

Britta didn’t let the scary amount of money derail the meeting. She continued on in the next breath. “In the meantime, if you could take ten posters each and place them around town, I’d appreciate it. These have all the dates and info about our fundraiser, Armand’s visit, and the Harvest Hurrah.” She passed out a sheaf of glossy posters to each board member.

“Good work, Britta,” Chayton said. “I’ll post some of these at the high school.”

“Thank you for your help. The city of Echo Ridge is depending on us to meet our goals, so no pressure.” She smiled. “I’ll see you next week.”