The delectable aromas of vegetable soup and toast woke her. She lifted her head as Ruby set down a tray. “The police are here, talking wi’ Miss Smedley right now. I thought you might want a bit o’ something before they come to see you.”
“Thank you. This is exactly what I need,” Concordia said, reaching for the napkin.
“I hope you have an extra bowl, Ruby. It smells divine,” a male voice said.
David Bradley stood in the doorway, reassuringly strong and solid and comforting. Without a care for Ruby’s sensibilities—who was backing out of the room with alacrity—he gathered Concordia in his arms and let her cry it out.
