The town didn't seem to stir early; she still had yet to see a car pass by. Folks around town should still have to work, unless they were all employees of the town itself and were in no rush to get moving. Molly checked her watch. At ten thirty, the coffee shop and general store should be open. Lemon Grove’s shopping hours shouldn’t make it impossible for customers to buy anything. The town would never survive if that were the case.
As she reached the main road, Molly finally found the general store and the café. To her relief, both were open, and the bell rang as she entered the store, where a clerk sat on a stool behind the counter waiting with a smile.
“Welcome.” The man in his seventies rose from his seat and moved closer to the counter. “What can I help you with today?”
This man understood customer service. Molly stepped around a shelf of candy. “I am looking for shampoo. Do you have any?”
“I do.” He pointed toward a shelf near the back of the store. “Over there by the toilet paper. If you need anything else, please let me know and I’ll be happy to help you.”
“Thank you.” Molly walked past the rows of cereal and bread to the shelf with toilet paper stacked on the top. Tissue paper, bug spray and hand soap also filled the hygiene section of the store. She grabbed a bar of soap along with the shampoo and cringed at the price. It was more here than in the city, but less expensive than the campground. Given how welcoming the store clerk had been when he greeted her, Molly would ignore the price if it meant not having to buy her supplies at the camp store or spend the time and money on gas to drive into the city to resupply.
The store bell rang, and Rick strolled in, waving to the shop owner. He seemed to be coming in Molly’s direction so she urgently checked her appearance in the glass door of a freezer full of microwavable dinners. This was why girls brought hairdryers and make-up on camping trips. Only married women didn’t care if they ran into the town hottie and were willing to let their appearance go. At least she was showered, but her hair was lifeless after being left to air dry, and her skin was pale without a little blush to brighten her cheeks.
Rick dipped into the aisle before hers and, noticing her, flashed a smile.
“It seems we keep bumping into each other,” Rick said.
Her mouth went dry as she fought to find a response. “We do.” She struggled with the informality and familiarity the tiny community offered. Here, people talked to each other, and he was standing across from her. In the city, it was normal not to make eye contact or to say anything more than a word or two — people stayed strangers because there were just too many of them. “I swear I’m not stalking you,” she blurted. Molly noticed the heat rise in her cheeks. It would have been best not to say anything at all. Why did she bring up stalking? Of all the ridiculous things to have—
“That’s what a stalker would say,” Rick said with a wink. He didn’t skip a beat, grabbing something from the shelf before turning back toward the counter. “I’d like to mail a package,” he said to the clerk. He pulled a large envelope from inside his coat and handed it to the man.
“I think you are solely responsible for keeping our courier in business,” the clerk said. He slid a paper and pen across to Rick.
“And I don’t mind.” Rick scribbled his shipping information on the paper as the clerk weighed the envelope, while Molly slinked along the hygiene aisle before moving to stand in line at the front of the store. She tried to not look obvious as she peered over his shoulder to see where he was sending the package, or if a woman was the addressee.
The clerk took the form and attached it to the package before tucking it under the counter. “You’re all set, Rick.”
“Thank you.” He turned to Molly. “Have a good day.” She smiled and caught her breath as the bells chimed on the door and he stepped outside.
“I didn’t know you could mail packages here,” she said.
“You sure can,” the clerk said. “We’re the post office and the bus depot.”
“There is a bus in town?”
“It is more of a shuttle. It connects the small towns in the area to the city. Runs twice a day. Mornings and evenings.”
“And you need a depot for a shuttle?”
The clerk handed Molly her change. “People need a place to catch the bus. Might as well come in here and buy something while they wait than stand outside at some sign.” He winked and placed her items in a bag.
Molly thanked the clerk and walked out to the street but saw no signs of Rick. He had a way of appearing and disappearing, just like Brad, who had disappeared from her life. Right. She sighed. Brad. It had been several hours since she thought about him and that was a good thing. Molly had come to Lemon Grove to forget one man, and it seemed to work only because she was thinking about another.
Chapter Seven
Rick fired up his truck and let it idle. He had gone to the general store to send paperwork back to the office and complete the deal he was working on. Earlier that morning, he filed the electronic paperwork, but the company had yet to eliminate the last few paper forms. The option of electronic documentation and technology gave Rick the freedom to work from Lemon Grove, but he still needed the courier to make almost daily trips with the hard copies, and Rick paid a premium rate for the service.
With his office commitments completed, the rest of the day was his to spend as he liked. Rick had no additional obligations unless he booked them himself, and by now he would normally be eager to get back to his home to tinker in the garden. Today he wasn’t as ready to return home, not after bumping into the cute girl from the campground for… how many times? The fourth time? He chuckled over her outfit. She was a city girl through and through, dressed in crisp, never before worn clothes. While he didn’t consider himself a fashion expert with enough skill to identify old clothes from new, the “Size S” sticker stuck to her waist gave her secret away.
He had to admire how she embraced the adventure of being outdoors and at least tried to dress the part. She was among the first he’d seen to make the effort. The usual city girl arrived with perfect hair and nails done just so. They hid at the first sign of rain or bugs. Those high maintenance types would either arrive in a travel trailer or stay at the resort. Then there were the ones who tried to impress their boyfriends and claimed to enjoy camping until they arrived. Rick always heard their loud complaints from a distance and they never stayed long, leaving him wondering what happened to the relationship after they left.
This girl seemed different. Every time he saw her, she was alone. Was there no boyfriend to impress? She didn’t fuss with her hair or make-up and let her messy, natural waves hang past her shoulders. The young woman looked like a genuine person and didn’t hide behind some fake facade, except for the new outfit.
It was easy for him to see past clothes. When he moved to Lemon Grove, there were few outfits he owned which didn’t belong in a boardroom. She might have had the same issue and needed to add more casual clothes to her wardrobe. The plaid shirts were stereotypical, and from what he had seen, she had purchased the same outfit in multiple colors. He liked the blue checkered plaid against her skin more so than the red. Sadly, he didn’t notice if the blue color matched her eyes. In their previous interactions, he never looked at her eyes, having found himself too overwhelmed by everything else about her, like the way she wore an annoyed expression whenever he walked into the campground office. It was what prompted him to apologize for interrupting her conversation with Glenda for a second time, and only after he stood outside the door listening to their conversation. Her voice was sweet and intoxicating.
She was already up the front steps by the time he arrived at the campground. A girl like her was hard to miss in Lemon Grove. Anyone who didn’t live here stuck out, and she was right out in the open. For a third time, she was alone, which was odd. If she were traveling with family or friends, he would have seen her out with someone.
Now he had seen her a fourth time at the general store, and she was just a
s cute as the first time he saw her. He questioned talking to her in the toiletries aisle. The last thing he wanted was to make it awkward, but he had to say something. He got a smile out of her and he wanted to see her beautiful smile again.
Rick sipped on his coffee and watched her flit across the road, with her plastic bag from the general store dangling at her side, and into the café. Who was she? If he was going to keep running into her, he had to learn her name.
He looked down at his paper cup full of coffee and sighed. If he hadn’t made a trip to the café before mailing the package, he could have used buying a coffee as an excuse to bump into her for a fifth time. She disappeared through the café door and he took another sip before tucking the cup into the truck’s cup holder.
There was no rule stating he couldn’t get a second cup of coffee if he wanted. Besides, only Patsy was aware he visited the café only minutes earlier. With the girl, he could play off them being in the same place at the same time as mere coincidence. Rick glanced in the rearview mirror and ran his fingers through his hair. His appearance would have to do. She did just see him in the general store, so it was too late to make any major improvements to his appearance. He turned off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Who’s the stalker now?” he whispered to himself.
Taking a quick breath, Rick set out across the road before doubt sank in. He came to a halt five feet from his truck, re-thinking his plan.
This was a bad idea. What if she thought he was following her? If she were worried, Patsy would vouch for him and say he was a nice guy. After six years of filling his order, he had come to know the owner of the café well. He had even attended her husband’s funeral two years ago. It saddened him to learn Patsy wanted to sell the business she had worked with her husband to build. Rick had promised her he would be a loyal customer until the day she closed the doors.
On the other hand, Patsy had a way of calming people, and if her customer seemed nervous about Rick, Patsy would be sure to set her straight. Besides, he would say the young woman was the one trying to find him and had timed her trip to the café to align with his visit. Of course, she would deny it.
A car honked at Rick, snapping him out of his reverie. He waved to the annoyed tourist who had stopped for him while he stood in the middle of the road. He dashed across to the café door and paused. He could change his mind now and not walk inside, but she had captured his attention, and he had to figure out why.
Patsy wore a puzzled expression when Rick re-entered the café. He tried to appear neutral, then surprised when he spotted the young woman by the counter. He had to sell both women he wasn’t expecting to run into the visitor for a fifth time. It was time to put those old high school drama classes to good use.
“You’re back,” Patsy said. The young woman turned at the counter and her mouth hung open. “Was there something wrong with your coffee?”
“No.” Rick strolled forward and leaned against the wall beside the cooler. “I came back for another.”
“Another?” Patsy wiped her hands on a towel. “Since when do you drink two in one day?”
He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What can I say? You make excellent coffee.” The girl looked at him and smiled. “We meet again.”
“It appears so.” He couldn’t read her expression. There was a slight smile mixed with a look of embarrassment as she glanced down at the floor.
Rick bent down to peer into the cooler and hold her gaze. “If we keep meeting like this, we should tell each other our names.”
Patsy raised an eyebrow and smirked before turning around to face the pass-through window into the kitchen.
“Well, I understand your name is Rick.”
His muscles weakened as she said his name. That had never happened before. “How do you know that?”
“Because everyone in town calls you by your name.”
“Right.” As he stood upright, he saw Patsy with her back toward them, shaking her head. “Since you already know my name, it is only fair for me to know yours.”
She passed her plastic grocery bag to her opposite hand. “My name is Molly.”
“It is nice to officially meet you, Molly.”
“Same.”
Patsy laughed and stepped up to the counter with Molly’s order. “I could write her name on her cup if that would help.”
“I don’t think everyone needs to know my name.” Molly chuckled and took her cup of coffee. “Thank you.”
“Enjoy shopping at The Lemon Closet,” Patsy said. “Make sure you check out those shoes I was telling you about.”
Rick rushed ahead of Molly and held open the door, allowing her to step outside unobstructed. He lingered in the door as she turned onto the sidewalk.
“Did you really come here for a second coffee?” Patsy called. She leaned over the counter, observing Rick take one long stare. “I’ll keep your secret.”
“What secret?” He strolled back to the counter.
“That you only came in here to talk to Molly.”
“I did not.” He pointed to the chalkboard menu. “I’ll have an Americano.”
Patsy lowered her chin and held her pen to her paper.
“I’m serious,” Rick said. “Stop looking at me like that.”
She scribbled his order onto the paper and passed it through to the kitchen. “This has to be the first time you’ve ever ordered a—”
“Second coffee in one day? It has been a long day.”
“It is going to last even longer if the caffeine keeps you up all night.”
Patsy was onto him, but he shouldn’t leave without a coffee in his hands if he was to run into Molly again. It is one thing for Patsy to figure out he had only come to the café to talk to her, but another for Molly to see through his plan. He didn’t want to scare her off before he had the chance to talk to her again.
“If it keeps me awake, I’ll remember your warning.” Or he’d think about Molly and come up with fresh ways to talk to her. They won’t always run into each other at the campground office. Since she is only visiting, he would need to move quick to stand a chance at seeing if she was someone who—
His phone rang, and his father’s name displayed on the screen. Rick rolled his eyes and Patsy stepped back from the counter. People knew his name in town, and they also knew about his father.
“Where are the papers?” his father demanded.
“Hello to you, too.”
“Don’t get snarky with me. I have important business to attend to and I need confirmation you sent them.”
Rick took his second coffee from the counter and nodded to Patsy. “I sent them to you today. The courier will have them to you by the end of the day.”
His father groaned. “If you didn’t insist on living in that backwards town, we wouldn’t have to wait on things like paperwork. The papers would be right here in my office.”
“The deal is complete.” Rick squeezed the phone between his ear and shoulder, freeing his hand to open the door. “I only have to send in the papers as a formality.”
“It is the formality that makes it legal.”
“We have a verbal agreement and I had everything electronically signed.”
“Until those papers show up on my desk, I consider nothing final. Things can happen in business—”
“Dad, trust me. The paperwork is on its way, as always.”
“Yes, yes. I’m sure it is.” Rick’s father had dropped the conversation too soon, and Rick leaned against the side of his truck to brace himself for the real reason his father had called. “Have you thought about Robert’s offer?”
Rick kicked his heel against the front tire. “I’ve thought about it.”
“Your mother and I have been talking and we feel you shouldn’t turn him down.”
“Mom already called and talked to me about it.”
“And you didn’t listen to her, did you?” Listening meant Rick doing what he was told. It wasn’t good enough to allow his mother to t
alk and share an opinion. Her opinion was the only one that mattered and the opinion they expected Rick to follow.
Rick took a sip of coffee. “I listened.”
“And?”
“And what? I don’t want to sell, especially not to him.”
“So you’d sell if it was to someone other than Robert Fletcher. That’s not good business.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“You aren’t talking sense. Robert Fletcher has offered you a large sum of money. It is more than what your property is worth and you are telling me you are turning him down?”
Rick laughed and took another sip of coffee. His father’s calls weren’t humorous, they were frustrating, and laughter was the only thing keeping him from hanging up or saying something he might regret.
“Your mother and I have been patient with you while you lived out this little adventure of yours, but it is time you looked at the practicalities of this arrangement.”
“There is nothing wrong with working remotely. Many companies are doing it these days.”
“Companies only permit their staff to work remotely if it doesn’t have a negative effect on the business and productivity. This arrangement has been nothing but a frustration to me.”
“A personal or professional frustration?” Rick realized his words after they had flown from his mouth. He turned and mimicked banging his head against the frame of his truck.
“You are lucky you are my son or I would have you fired for your disrespect.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” His frustration had taken hold of him. An apology wouldn’t be enough. “I understand me being here has been difficult for you—”
Mountain Getaway Page 6
