Between Heaven and Rock (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 3)

Bearing Gifts

1 out of 2 :)

K. xx

***

The next morning a loud and insistent doorbell woke Ulla up. She'd gotten so little sleep and was still so exhausted that she acted on autopilot. She rolled over the sprawled body of the Reverend Holyoake and climbed off the bed. The man was deep asleep on his stomach, his left arm hanging off the edge of the bed, and didn't even twitch, probably due to the previous night's extreme exertion. She pulled on his tee, and stomped to the entrance door. She jerked it open and stared at Yola, owner of the Hey Jude the Obscure Bookshop, and a giant bouquet of irises she held in her hands.

"Morning!" the shop owner hollered, and then looked Ulla over. "Oh, dear, and what a good morning it is." She pointed at Ulla's hair that no doubt was sticking around her head in the most bizarre fashion. The hair had been through a lot in the previous seven hours. "You properly should start getting dressed and brushing your hair down before opening the door. The town has gotten the message, Ulla. The reverend father is a stud. You can stop shocking us with your bedhead and your state of undress."

"What is it, Yola?" Ulla grumbled.

The pink-haired woman giggled. "These are for you," she said and pushed the bouquet into Ulla' hands. "As well as– this!" she announced and flamboyantly pulled an envelope out of her messenger bag.

"And that is–" Ulla yawned and sniffed the flowers. They were gorgeous, not that she'd ever admit loving having fresh cut flowers around.

"A cheque for just a tad over three thousand pounds," Yola said.

Ulla lowered the bouquet.

"What?"

"That's your cut," Yola whispered conspiratorially and shoved it towards Ulla, looking around in the most suspicious way. "Quickly, take it, before someone sees."

"Are you bonkers?" Ulla asked, frowning.

Yola dropped her act and burst into loud laughter.

"You're adorable, you know that, right?" she said. "The Reverend Holyoake isn't going to be bored one day in his life. Not that you aren't perfect for him, or anything."

"What's the money for, Yola?" Ulla asked.

She was starting to feel cold, and she just wanted to go back to bed and tuck herself into the side of said Reverend Holyoake. He was warm, smelled delicious, and she might be in love with him. Bugger.

"So, yesterday, instead of selling thirty or so copies as I had assumed, I sold a hundred and twelve. Did you know that even before the reading started, you had twenty seven additional guests at your party? That is considering that every single person the Reverend Phibbs had invited showed up. And someone tweeted about the reading at the very beginning, so by the time we sat down to listen to Barnett, we had another thirty two."

"I'm aware," Ulla grumbled. "I had to deal with the shortage of seats and biscuits. Were you the one who tweeted?"

"I might be in the business for the money, but I do love my writers and my books, mate," Yola said, growing somewhat serious. "I would never infringe on a writer's confidentiality like that. It was one of the Fitzroy daughters. But mate, we made a lot of money. That - is your ten percent."

"Yola, I didn't–" Ulla started.

"No, you don't understand. That's me donating money to the church." Yola laughed again. "I doubt you'll be pocketing it."

"You're donating a 'cut' to the church," Ulla repeated, flabbergasted.

"Yep. And Ulla? Thank you," Yola said ardently. "The reading was important for the community, and you managed it with style. Be proud of yourself. And now go inside. It's baltic."