A/N: I still don't own anything but my imagination. Everything else belongs to the amazingly talented Martha Williamson. We are now in the third week of July. Shane is getting the items in her library appraised, the team is finishing up the last of their renovations, and Shane is moving in! Yay!

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July 18, 2014

5:00 AM

Oliver awoke the following Saturday early and eager to begin the day.

Lord, he prayed as he began his morning ablutions, today Ms. McInerney is finally able to move into her new home. Though rain was forecasted, please let it hold off long enough for her furniture to be delivered and for us to transfer her belongings from her storage unit into her home. We also have the appraiser coming this afternoon to assess the contents of her library, Lord. I pray that goes smoothly for her, as well, and that the few remaining items on her list are easy and fast. I also pray for me, Lord. Give me the words as I speak with Mr. Dorman. He would be justified in refusing to help me, Lord, but I pray he realizes I only ask in order to help Ms. McInerney. Make today a good one, Lord; she needs some stability and happiness in her life and we can provide that for her if she will just trust us. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Oliver finished his prayer just as he completed brushing his teeth. By the time he had changed into a pair of khakis and a blue plaid shirt, his pocket watch indicated an acceptable hour to make his phone call.

The phone rang only twice before being picked up. "Wade Dorman," came the crisply businesslike voice on the other end.

"Mr. Dorman, it's Oliver O'Toole," Oliver stated, offering another prayer that Wade would understand his motivation in making such a request. "I know it's early, and the weekend, but I wonder if you can do me a favor…"

An hour later, Oliver pulled up to Shane's house. Wade had agreed to his request and had promised to contact him when he had some more information to impart. Grabbing the bags and the drink carrier from his backseat, he exited the vehicle and shut and locked the door, balancing his packages in his right hand.

Shane came out onto the porch as Oliver walked up her front path. "Oliver," she laughed, grabbing the drink carrier from him before it toppled over. "Exactly how many people are you feeding this morning?"

"Uh, four, Ms. McInerney," he replied, shifting his bags once she had taken possession of the drink carrier. He followed her into her kitchen and placed the bags onto the counter. "I'm not sure I understand the question. Good morning, Norman, Rita."

Norman and Rita murmured their greetings as they entered from the library, where they had been finishing up the polishing job they had begun the previous evening. Shane had picked them up earlier, all four having agreed that Oliver would be bringing breakfast for the group.

Shane simply sighed and shook her head in amusement, grabbing the first of three large bags with the Mailbox Grille's logo on them. A selection of small jam jars greeted her – strawberry, raspberry, marionberry, and lemon curd – as well as honey packets and several small containers of whipped butter. The second bag yielded an assortment of croissants, biscuits, and sweet breads, and the third presented three clamshell boxes containing fluffy mushroom and Swiss omelets with hashbrowns, as well as plastic utensils and napkins.

"You are impossible," she sighed again good-naturedly, heading to the cabinet to fetch plates.

"What's a marionberry?" Rita wondered, looking through the various jars.

"It's a cross between two different varietals of blackberry and is found exclusively in the state of Oregon," answered Shane as she turned from the cabinet. "Specifically, Marion County. Hence the name, Marionberry."

As she set the plates on the counter, she noticed the others all staring at her in bewilderment. "What?" she demanded. "My family used to vacation at the Oregon Coast every summer. When we still were a family, that is. My dad said it was 'good for us to experience life outside of Virginia'."

"Astonishing," responded Oliver quietly as he placed half of one of the meals onto a plate and slid it towards Shane. Lord, he prayed, I believe that is the first time she has willingly offered a piece of information regarding her past that I have not had to pry out of her. It appears to be a happy memory for her, as well, although there is still an air of melancholia surrounding her. I wish she would open up and tell me what is on her heart, Lord, but I will be patient and trust that she will come to me in her own time. Amen.

The four colleagues ate companionably for a time, making various comments about Shane's new house and the improvements they had made to it over the last few weeks. As the gentlemen cleaned up the dishes and wiped down the counter, Shane placed the leftover baked goods onto a stand with a glass cloche to cover them and Rita placed the jams and butters into the refrigerator.

"Wow, Shane, you'll really need to do some grocery shopping now," Rita commented, gesturing to the empty shelves.

"I know," Shane sighed for the third time. "But at least it doesn't need to be all processed things anymore."

A knock at the door interrupted Rita's response, which turned out to be the appraiser. He was just asking to see the library when the building inspector walked up, wanting to inspect the renovations. Shane, Oliver, Norman, and Rita glanced at each other.

"You and Oliver go ahead with Mr. Reynolds into the library," Norman finally spoke. "Rita and I will show the changes to Mr. Phelps and let you know what he says."

"Thanks, Norman," Shane breathed, relieved. She and Oliver led Mr. Reynolds into the library and answered his questions as he peered into every shelf, picked up objects to see them more closely, and inspected the furniture throughout the room.

"Well," he stated after several hours of inspection and research. "I must say, this is quite the collection you have, Miss McInerney."

Shane and Oliver smiled.

"Some of the pieces are quite rare and valuable. Assuming we can prove provenance, I believe my original estimations to Mr. O'Toole to be rather on the low side."

Shane nodded, dumbstruck. "I ran photographs of everything through art databases, but nothing has come back as missing or stolen," she murmured, showing him the results on her computer.

"In that case," Reynolds replied, whistling lowly as he filled out an estimate report and handed it to her, "this is what I estimate the contents of your library to be worth."

Shane and Oliver perused the page, their eyes flying to meet each other's before turning to Mr. Reynolds. "Are," Shane cleared her throat, suddenly dry from the numbers she had just read. "I mean, um…" Helplessly, she turned to Oliver, wordlessly pleading with him to understand what she wanted from him.

"Ahem," Oliver began, turning his attention to the art expert before him. "I believe what my, uh, what Ms. McInerney is trying to say is, are we certain that this is an accurate quote?" Lord, he pleaded, I don't have any words to express my astonishment, or to accurately portray what I am feeling at this moment, to be honest. If what Mr. Reynolds says is correct, and if it turns out that Ms. McInerney may keep the items in this library, she need never work again. She would be free to walk out of our lives just as suddenly as she walked into them a month ago, but I don't know that I would desire that. She is everything Holly is not: brash, and opinionated, and curious…and generous, and intelligent, well-read, thoughtful. Oh, dear, I had better not continue this train of thought. Please help me keep my thoughts pure, Lord. Amen.

"Yes," Reynolds replied succinctly, placing his paperwork back into his satchel. "If anything, that quote might be a little on the conservative side. Take a look through your books again, Ms. McInerney. You have an early edition, although not a first, of the Birds of America by James Audubon. You also have a second edition Tamerlane by Edgar Allen Poe, and a first edition In Our Time by Ernest Hemingway."

"I saw that!" she exclaimed excitedly. "But I didn't realize it was worth much. I mean, it's only about 30 pages. Later publications were four times that length."

"Yes," he agreed, pleased to see she had some knowledge of literary history. "But that first edition is exceptionally rare. About 300 were printed, and only a little more than half that were sold."

He let that sink in for a moment, until the doorbell pulled Shane out of her daze. "I'll see myself out," Reynolds announced, shaking hands with Oliver and nodding at Shane. "Think carefully about what I've said, Ms. McInerney," he advised as they exited the library together.

Rita, who had just answered the doorbell to the furniture company, came to stand next to Shane. "What did he say?" she inquired, glancing at Shane's still-stunned face. "Shane?"

"I think…I need a Yoo-Hoo," Shane responded, directing the moving men to her bedroom.

"I believe I can use one, myself," Oliver assented, grabbing his keys off the counter. "I'll go. Norman?"

Norman obediently followed Oliver out the door, leaving the ladies to deal with the movers. It took them twenty minutes to run to the grocery store, pick up a four pack of Yoo-Hoo, and return to Shane's home. By the time they reentered the house, Shane seemed to have regained some of her equilibrium. She accepted the offered beverage with a grateful smile to Oliver and downed half of it in a single chug, indicating to Oliver that she wasn't quite as calm as she appeared.

I wish I knew the words to say to comfort her heart, Lord. This is a huge responsibility shoved onto her shoulders and, although I know she is no stranger to hard work or heavy responsibility, still I worry for her.

Shane, however, had her own thoughts racing through her mind. I really need to find the original owners of this house! I know I submitted photographs for all the furniture and works of art to those databases, but it never occurred to me that the real value lay in the books themselves! Really brilliant, McInerney! You double major in Art History and in Literature and can't measure the value of your own library.

She was brought out of her self-recrimination by one of the movers, who was asking where the library was. Shane led him through the hidden door and showed him what she wanted done and where, then sat down at the desk to get some work done while keeping an eye on him so nothing ended up in his toolbox or pocket that didn't belong there. She felt terrible for assuming the worst in someone she had never met before but had seen too many times the unsavory side of humanity not to be cautious, particularly now that she knew just how valuable the items in her new sanctuary were.

It took the team from the furniture store four hours to put together the furniture for Shane's bedroom, the two spare bedrooms, the library, the living room, the dining room, the breakfast nook, the foyer, the upstairs hallway, and the backyard living space. By then, it was after five o'clock and Shane was famished. No wonder, she reminded herself, we worked through lunch! I bet we could all use something to eat.

"Anybody else hungry?" she asked mildly once she had closed the door after the movers. Too bad we're not on the coast, she thought morosely, remembering the restaurants she had been used to dine in when she lived in DC. I have been craving some good sushi all week!

"Yes!" Norman practically shouted. "I'm starving!"

"Great! I believe it is my turn to pay?"

"You believe correctly, Ms. McInerney," Oliver smirked, knowing that she remembered full well that he had brought breakfast that morning.

"Then I will allow you to choose our restaurant, Mr. O'Toole," she teased back, stifling the urge to request a sushi restaurant. "Lead on, MacDuff."

Oliver opened the passenger door for her, closing it carefully after she slid herself in, then performed the same service for Rita before rounding to the driver's side. He angled in and pointed the car in the direction of an old favorite.

"Hillstone?" Shane asked delightedly. "I thought you only came here occasionally?"

"I do, but I figured this was a special occasion," he grinned happily, eyes dancing. "Plus, I have a craving for sushi, and it's done well here."

Shane's eyes went round. How did he know that that was exactly what I wanted to eat?

"That sounds amazing right now, Oliver!" she squeaked, willing her stomach to stop growling by reminding herself that she was about to eat.

They were seated immediately, and Oliver ordered one of each of their sushi rolls and a bottle of Sancere for the table.

"Can we also get a bread plate and the grilled artichokes while we're waiting?" Shane requested. The waiter nodded, scribbled down the orders, collected the menus and ran off to the kitchen, returning momentarily with the bread plate, the wine, and four glasses. He poured a small measure of wine into one of the glasses then passed it to Oliver, who nodded appreciatively.

"That's lovely," he replied, placing the glass down as the waiter filled them all. Another quick trip to the kitchen produced the artichokes, and soon Oliver, Shane, Norman, and Rita were happily munching while Oliver and Shane told the other two what Mr. Reynolds had said.

"Wait, so your library is worth how much?" Norman asked incredulously.

"It was a surprise to me, too," Shane laughed nervously, taking a sip of wine.

"What are you going to do about it, Shane?" Rita asked, glancing around the table. "I mean, you could sell it all and never have to work again if…if you didn't want to."

"I could," Shane agreed slowly, nodding her head. Could I, though? She thought to herself. Or would I even want to? I mean, Norman's so endearing, and Rita is fast becoming a better friend than even Becky and a closer sister to me than Alex has been in years. And Oliver… her breath hitched and she had to blink to prevent a tear from escaping the corner of her eye at the thought of leaving and not seeing Oliver anymore.

"I could," she repeated more firmly, knowing what her decision would be if it came to that. "But I won't. I don't think it's right to sell it, and I wouldn't want to, anyhow. Besides," she shook her head, "I don't have it in me to live a life of idleness. I need to work. I love my job, and my coworkers aren't so bad, either," she finished, winking mischievously.

Oliver sat back, gazing at Shane contemplatively. Thank you, Lord, that she will choose to stay, regardless of what comes her way. Now, if I can only hear back from Norman's cousin, I will know what to do and how I can help her. Please, let him get back to me quickly.

The waiter returned with a helper, each carrying a tray laden with platters. They laid the sushi rolls down in the center of the table, placed a plate, a dipping bowl, and chopsticks in front of each person and a bottle of soy sauce on the table before leaving again.

"This all looks fantastic!" giggled Shane excitedly, snapping up a piece of pressed sushi with her chopsticks and taking a bite. Now I feel like I'm home, she sighed contentedly.

A couple hours later, after Oliver had dropped off Norman and Rita, he turned to Shane. "Am I driving you to your home, Ms. McInerney?" he asked, putting the car in gear.

"Uh, no, Oliver," she replied thoughtfully. "As much as I would like that, I haven't made the bed, and I still have not packed up my hotel room."

"Then I will return you to the Brown Palace. And I will insist on a nightcap in the lounge," he added, raising his eyebrows as he looked at her.

Shane, knowing why he wanted to talk, was about to decline but thought better of it. Nodding briefly, she turned her attention to the window.

"Are you all right, Shane?" Oliver asked, once they had returned to the hotel and been seated in the lounge and he had ordered their drinks.

His gentle tone, combined with the use of her first name, stirred her. "All right?" she repeated. "I don't know, Oliver. I just…" she trailed off, gathering her thoughts before addressing him again. "I feel like this was a lot to take in today. And I feel so stupid for not having caught the value of some of those books. I mean, I should have realized!"

The waiter returned with their gin rickeys, but when he left again, Oliver replied. "How could you have?" he asked kindly. "You are a Technical Liaison for the Dead Letter Office in the Denver Branch of the United States Postal Service; you aren't a rare book expert, Shane. Please don't be so hard on yourself."

They sipped in silence for a few minutes while Oliver ordered his mind. "You are not stupid, Shane McInerney. In fact, you are so far opposite of stupid as to render your statement slightly ridiculous."

She chuckled, trying unsuccessfully to hide her smile.

"Of course, you had a very large load placed in your lap today. I understand it is a lot to process at once. But you know you can count on me to help you shoulder this, don't you?"

"I know," she nodded briefly.

"Good," he replied, finishing his drink. "I should go. I'll see you Monday, Ms. McInerney." He started to rise, but Shane reached out to grab his arm, stopping him.

"Thank you, Oliver," she said quietly.

"Of course," he gazed at her steadily. "Anytime, you know that."

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A/N: Well, there it is! Please, read and review! Up next will probably be July 31st and the beginning of the Samila and Buzz storyline, unless something occurs to me to fill in for the interim. We'll also be finding out soon what Oliver is requesting of Norman's cousin.

Also, I am looking for one or two Beta Readers…someone to proofread my chapters before I post them and keep me accountable to for my writing. If anyone is interested, let me know! Thanks!