Page 76 of A Nantucket Wedding

Well, she thought, as she brushed a willow branch away from her face, Noah had been furious last night about the kind of money David had. Maybe that was it.

Okay, Felicity said to herself, following her thoughts as they led her along an unknown path. Noah was worried about money. Always. His first and most continuous stressor was the future of his company. He was working hard, she knew that, and he wanted to make his business a success not only for financial reasons, but of course money was part of it.

His second largest stressor was personal money. Money for the house, for clothes for the children, vacations for the children, never mind vacations for him. Did it hurt his pride that David Gladstone could provide such a luxurious vacation for Felicity and Noah and their children when Noah couldn’t possibly afford a night for his family on that island?

Keep thinking,she told herself.You’re getting somewhere.

She stepped over a fallen log. Noah was so proud of their house because from the outside it looked elegant, pricey. But only Felicity knew how they had to cut corners with their money when it came to eating out, repairing the air-conditioning, taking the children to water parks like the Great Wolf Lodge.

Theirmoney.

Could she help financially? In September both children would be in school all day, Alice in second grade, Luke in first. She would have enough time freed up for at least a part-time job…but what could she do? She’d majored in education and psychology in college, but after she met Noah, she cared about nothing in the world besides being with him. When she got pregnant just before graduation, Noah had been as delighted as Felicity. She was certain of that. Noah had been full of ambition and hope for his business, and having a wife to take care of the routine matters of life—buying groceries, cooking, doing laundry—that had seemed absolutely right to him.

But now? Now, seven years after graduation, Felicity had her degree in education, but no state preschool teaching certificate.

But she knew how to get one. She knew where to find the information she needed to bone up on to take the examination. She had friends who would help her.

She had friends who would hire her. Preschools always needed teachers.

Did she want to work in a preschool? Felicity tried to return to her mindset in the early days of her college career, when she was still young and free and could choose whatever route her heart desired. Her father had paid for her education, she’d lived in a dorm or at home, she had no pressing debts and all the world was before her. She could have majored in English because she loved reading, or in social work because she loved people, but she had instinctively gone for education, because she loved children, the younger, the better. She’d made money during the summer as an aide in a local preschool, and she’d loved every minute of it. Sitting in a circle with the children, teaching them songs, or marshaling them into lines to go out for a field trip, seeing their faces when they were allowed to hold a frog in their hands…

Felicity realized she was walking faster and faster, almost running, and when she tripped over another log, she forced herself to slow down.

Be honest,she told herself.Any money you make teaching preschool is hardly going to help Noah with the cost of running the house andourlives.

But, she argued with herself, it would besomemoney. And it would show Noah she was on his side, trying to help.

When he came home tonight, she would ask him about her idea. In the meantime, she couldn’t wait to get home to her laptop. She was sure there was a preschool near the children’s elementary school. How cool would that be?

—

Jane was in her office at the law firm, but she couldn’t concentrate on her work because she was so angry at Scott. Why wouldn’t he answer his phone? How childish! In the back of her mind, a small worry fluttered its wings like a trapped moth, but she refused to give in to any fear that something might have happened to him. He was a careful climber. And a very stubborn man.

Just before noon, her cellphone buzzed. The number displayed had a 44 followed by too many digits. Was that the prefix for Wales? She reached for her phone.

“May I please speak with Mrs. Jane Hudson, please?” The voice was unfamiliar.

“This is she,” Jane said, a chill of dread racing through her.

“This is Derfel Aberfa. I’m the liaison officer for the Llanberis Mountain Rescue League.”

“Mountain rescue? What’s happened? Is Scott all right?”

“A hiker on Mount Snowdon found Scott Hudson’s cellphone near the Crib Goch path. Another hiker reported talking with him earlier today on the path. Mr. Hudson told him he was headed for the summit. Where the phone was found, and the fact that it was shattered, indicates that Mr. Hudson might have fallen. We could access some information from the phone but it won’t send or receive calls.”

“Maybe he went back to the hotel, or to buy a new phone?”

“Your husband told Mr. Davies, the hiker who spoke with him, that he was staying at the resort Portmeirion. We’ve called, and he has a room, but he was not there. Someone went to check. We have left him a message on his room phone. The Llanberis Mountain Rescue League has begun a search. On Portmeirion’s records, you are listed as his emergency contact. Would you have any idea what color shirt or jumper Mr. Hudson might be wearing?”

Jane’s mind froze. Oh, Lord, what kind of wife was she? Then, in a rush, she knew. “Scott is a fairly experienced hiker. We’ve read about Mount Snowdon and how cold it can be toward the summit. I’m sure he would be wearing a navy blue fleece jacket, and a blue wool cap with the New York Yankees logo. I think he would have a backpack with him with water and trail mix.”

“Good. Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.” Mr. Aberfa paused. “Will you be able to come to Wales?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll get the first plane I can.”

“Your best bet is to fly into Manchester rather than London. You can take the train to Bangor. That’s faster and safer than renting a car, especially if you aren’t accustomed to driving on the left side of the road.”

“Yes, I’ll do that. Thank you for the information.”

---