“That’s exactly what I was just thinking,” Morgan said, standing up and heading for the kitchen.
* * *
Rusty came into the shop right at nine the next morning. Alana had managed to get some sleep, and she greeted him with a bright smile.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” he asked. “Reading tea leaves? Alphabetizing the herbs?”
“Actually, we’re going to unpack a shipment that came in yesterday, and we’re going to sweep. Then we’ll close at noon and have lunch, and I’ll show you a few places here in town I think you’ll enjoy. Then we’ll head to Denver to visit Melinda.”
“Sounds like you’ve put a little thought into it. I like it.”
Alana shrugged. “Wasn’t too hard. Here—help me bring the boxes out from the back room.”
Rusty made himself useful restocking the essential oils while Alana unpacked the vitamins. Gina came in to pick up some rosehips, and stopped dead in her tracks when she caught sight of Rusty.
“Alana, who is that exceedingly fine-looking man stocking your shelves?” she asked in an undertone.
“An old friend of mine. He’s just in town for a couple of days.” It would take far more energy than Alana had to try to explain it.
“I wish my old friends looked like that. Do you mind if I go talk to him?”
“You’re asking my permission? Of course. Go ahead.”
Alana watched with amusement as Gina sauntered down the aisle and struck up a conversation. Gina could also make friends with just about anyone . . . as long as they were male. She didn’t think Rusty went for Gina’s type, though, and she was curious to see how he’d respond. Hmm. Looked like he was being friendly enough, but he was still stocking bottles and hadn’t given her his full attention. That made Alana happy, even though she knew she had no right to be. She hadn’t made up her mind, after all.
“Well, that’s disappointing. He says he’s got plans for the whole rest of the time he’s here.” Gina slumped against the counter while Alana rang up her purchases. “I even picked up some oils I don’t need.”
“Want me to put them back?” Alana asked, holding the bottles in her hand.
“No, that’s all right. I’m not that much of a crumb.” Gina glanced over her shoulder at Rusty. “Do you think he’s gay?” she whispered, turning to Alana.
“What? No.” Alana laughed. “I’ve known him for a long time, and I’m pretty sure he’s not.”
“I’m just not used to a man being so polite, and nothing else.” Gina handed over her credit card. “Oh, well. Maybe I’m not as universally appealing as I thought I was.”
“You’re very appealing.” Alana handed her the receipt and a pen. “He’s probably seeing someone else.”
“Well, that shouldn’t keep him from at least flirting with me.” Gina handed back the receipt and pen, then picked up her sack. “I’ll try not to let this ruin my self-esteem forever. Catch you later. Oh, are you seeing Melinda today?”
“Yes, I’m heading in late this afternoon.”
“Give her my love.”
“Will do.”
Alana chuckled as she watched Gina head down the sidewalk. That really must have been a shock to her system.
“All done,” Rusty said, coming up to the counter with his empty box. “What’s next?”
“What did you think of Gina?” Alana asked.
“Who? Oh, your customer? She seemed nice.”
Alana shook her head, smiling. “Is that all?”
“Well, she asked me some questions about oils that I couldn’t answer. I told her she’d better talk to you.”
“And did you think she was pretty?” Alana wheedled.
“Um, I didn’t notice, actually.”
She shook her head again. “You’re hopeless.”
“Why? Because I didn’t flirt back? Yes, I know she was trying to make some headway with me, but I’m not interested. I’d much rather spend my time with the owner of the shop.” He winked.
“Well, you’ll be tired of spending time with me long before we’re finished putting away my inventory. Here, take this box of honey sticks and refill the jars on aisle two. The flavors are all clearly marked.” As he walked away, Alana exhaled. He wasn’t going to make this easy on her, was he?
After everything was put away and tidy, Alana closed up and hung a sign on her door explaining that she’d be back the next morning. “I seem to recall you having a fondness for hamburgers,” she said as she locked the door.
“I do. Why? Do you have some good ones in town?”
“We do. Come on.”
Sloane made sure they got a good table when they reached the diner. “Oh, and Alana, we just got in some great chicken. Hormone free.”
“Perfect. I’ll take whatever you’re making with it.”
“And what about you?” Sloane turned to Rusty with appreciation on her face, and it was all Alana could do not to roll her eyes. Was this going to happen everywhere they went? Yes, he was gorgeous. She had eyes—she could see that. But why did every woman in town have to see it too?
“Alana tells me you have a great hamburger.”
“Plain, cheeseburger, mushroom Swiss, bacon—what’ll it be?”
Rusty looked thoughtful. “Let’s be wild and put some bacon on a mushroom Swiss.”
Sloane laughed. “I like the way you think. I’ll be right back.”
Rusty folded his arms on the table and glanced around appreciatively. “Nice place. I remember the first time you and I ever ate hamburgers together.”
“So do I.” Alana looked out the window by their table. So many memories. So many things she didn’t want him to see in her eyes.
“It’s funny because I don’t remember things like that about Tori.” He picked up his fork and played with it. “I remember what you were wearing the first time we met, but I can’t for the life of me remember the same thing about Tori. Why is that?”
“You remember what I was wearing out in the calving stall? Oh, now that’s just disgusting. I’m sure it was ratty and covered in manure.”
“Probably. But it was red, and it had Mount Rushmore on the front.”
Alana almost choked. “You remember that? How can you remember that?”
“I don’t know. I just do.”
Sloane came up just then with their plates, and for a few blessed moments, Rusty was distracted by his food. Alana needed that time to collect her thoughts. He remembered her shirt. While it was such a small, insignificant thing, it meant something, something very significant. She really had mattered. She really did matter.
“This is possibly the best burger I’ve ever eaten,” Rusty told Sloane when she walked up to the table to check on them. “I might have to drive down here once a week just to eat here.”
“Oh? Where are you from?”
“South Dakota.”
“Well, if our burgers would make you take a trip like that, I consider it a high compliment.” She gave him a grin before walking off to greet the new patrons who had just come in.
“This was a great surprise. So what’s on the agenda now, oh planner of fantastic afternoons?”
Alana smiled. “Something I think you’ll enjoy a lot.”
* * *
Every afternoon from one to three o’clock, Noah’s Ark hosted a Puppy Playdate. All the puppies currently for sale were brought out of their cages, and people could walk in and play with them. The children especially loved it, and they’d stop in on their way home from school. Alana had a sneaking suspicion that Rusty would love it too.
Lexi, the shop’s owner, brought out four new Golden Retriever puppies and all but dumped them into Rusty’s arms. He laughed as they clambered all over each other trying to reach his face to give it a lick. This was where he was truly in his element. Alana moved off into the corner and just watched. His face was alight with pure, simple joy, the kind of joy that most people chased after their whole lives and never found because it was right in front of them and they
never looked down.
Her phone buzzed with a text. I’m sorry, but I won’t be there when you come to see M. I’ve got an emergency in Colorado Springs. Take care. Be safe. Adam.
Alana waited for the rush of disappointment she expected to feel at news like this, but instead, she was relieved. It would be nice not to worry about juggling Adam and Rusty for another evening. She hadn’t realized what a toll that had taken on her before until she sensed the heaviness of the burden being lifted off her shoulders.
“And how about you?” Lexi asked, walking up to Alana with a darling little Pomeranian. “We can’t let your veterinarian friend have all the fun.”
“Oh, this one is cute.” Alana pocketed her phone and took the dog from Lexi’s arms.
“Better get in all your snuggles now. Miss Hillary’s kindergarten lets out in fifteen minutes, and this place will be swarming with kids. There aren’t enough puppies to go around.”
Alana held the dog close to her chest and let herself feel its aura. It was calming, peaceful, even though the dog itself was definitely high energy. She’d thought about getting a dog, but her schedule was too crazy. Just like having a relationship. She shook her head. Why did life have to get in the way of the things that were really important?
Once the kindergarteners arrived, Rusty and Alana left, not wanting to get trampled by fifteen pairs of tiny shoes. “That was great,” Rusty said as they strolled down to the other end of Main Street. “I spend so much time with sick dogs—it was great just to play around.”
“I thought you’d enjoy that.” A brisk wind picked up just then, blowing some yellow leaves across their path. Autumn. That elusive season when things changed in every way from temperature to color.
“Where are we going now?”
“Well, remember how I told you about the new art gallery that just opened? I thought we’d go check it out.”
“That’s great.”
Another gust of wind came along, and Rusty wrapped an arm protectively around Alana’s shoulders. She turned her face into his chest, trying to keep the dust out of her eyes. She liked it there, burrowed in the hollow of his arm, but then they reached the gallery, and he let her go.
Alex Croshaw, one of the two brothers who owned the place, met them just inside the door, and Alana introduced Rusty. Then she stood back while Rusty went through the exhibit. It was much more interesting to study him than it was to study the paintings, and she realized she’d been doing that a lot—standing back and watching him. Part of it was to see how much, if any, he had changed. Another part was that she liked watching how he interacted with the world around him. He took such genuine, simple pleasure in everything.
“This place is amazing,” he said, coming to her side and looking around. “I’d love to have my art on display here someday.”
“Did you ask Alex how you could do that?”
His face immediately flushed. “Oh, I’m not ready for that. I’m nowhere near at this level. But it’s nice to have something to shoot for, you know? This is going on my goal list. This is one way I’ll know I’ve arrived.”
“Which painting is your favorite here?” she asked, hoping for even more insight into what he was thinking.
Without hesitating, he took her elbow and steered her around the corner. It was a painting of a wheat field, the sun beating down on it.
“Why do you like this one so much?” she asked.
Rusty tilted his head to the side as he studied it. “Can’t you just feel the heat coming off that grain? I feel like I’m standing out there in that field, and little beads of sweat are rolling down the back of my neck. This one transports me somewhere entirely different.”
“I can see that,” Alana replied.
He turned to her. “Which one is your favorite?”
She shook her head. “I don’t really have one.”
“Oh, yes, you do. I can see it on your face—you have one, but you’re embarrassed to show me. Come on. Which one?”
“Okay, okay.” She led him to the back of the gallery. “I like this one.”
They stood before a large painting of an old woman stitching a quilt, a cat wrapped around her ankles. “Your turn,” Rusty said. “Why is this one your favorite?”
“It reminds me of my grandmother, of going over to her house and eating cookies after school, drinking raw milk before anyone started making it illegal. This feels like comfort and love and home.”
“And I can see that in your eyes when you look at it.” Rusty put his arm around her shoulders and they stood like that for a few minutes, absorbing the painting together. His nearness was distracting, though, and after a moment, she stepped away.
“Are you ready to head to Denver?” she asked. “I’d like to get back before it’s too awfully late.”
“I’m ready.”
They walked back up the street to the shop from the gallery and got in Alana’s car. She was glad to have something mundane like driving to do—it would help keep her mind off all these new thoughts and feelings she was having where Rusty was concerned. He had changed a little bit over the years, and she knew she had too. He was more seasoned, more refined—more attractive, dang it. Kind of like how Cary Grant only got better looking as he got older. And there was another Cary Grant similarity . . . she really had no chance, did she?
Melinda was feeling even better, and her sister had arrived to take care of her. Alana and Rusty only stayed for about an hour and then headed back to town. Alana was feeling edgy, and she knew Rusty wanted to get an early start the next morning.
“This road looks familiar,” Rusty joked as they went around the canyon curves just outside Aspen Ridge.
“Yep, it’s been a whole twenty-four hours since we were on it last.”
“Do you remember what we talked about on that drive?”
Alana gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “I do. I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”
“So you’ve been thinking about it.”
“Almost constantly.” They exited the canyon and entered town. Alana drove straight to Rusty’s bed-and-breakfast, knowing he’d left his car there. She parked out front, but he made no move to get out. Instead, he sat silently, waiting for her to say something.
“When you said what you did yesterday, when you held me, when you kissed me, it was everything I’ve ever dreamed about, and then some,” she said, not looking at him. If she did look at him, she’d never say what needed to be said. “Back then, I was so in love with you, I thought I’d die when you turned me down. Now . . . now I need to be sure that these feelings I’m having are really for you, today, and that they aren’t leftovers from when I was eighteen. I need some time, Rusty, and I hope you can understand that.”
He was quiet for a minute. “I do understand. But does this mean that you’re giving me at least the ghost of a chance?”
“Yes. But more than a ghost.” She reached out and touched his hand where it rested on his thigh. “I promise, I’ll really think about this.”
He nodded, his eyes somber. “I’ll call you every night, if that’s all right, and I’ll head back down as soon as I can.”
“I’d like that. I’d like it a lot.”
He reached out and stroked her cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Thank you for sharing today with me.” Then he was gone, climbing out of her car and closing the door. He lifted his hand in a wave as he entered the building, and then all was silent and still. Alana sat there for a moment, still feeling the tingle of his touch on her face, before she drove back home.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day, Alana went through work in a daze. Melinda was being released and her sister would bring her home, so she had no need to drive into Denver. She planned to take dinner over to Melinda’s that night and already had the ingredients in the fridge, so she had no reason to run to the store. In fact, she had no reason to do anything other than stare out the window of the shop, which she did for an hour before forcing herself
to snap out of it. She grabbed some essential oils, brewed herself a pot of herbal tea, and started a new CD in the background, anything to shake off this funk.
At three o’clock the next morning, she was awakened to a pounding on her door. She stumbled into her living room, still mostly asleep, and she blinked several times when she saw the fireman on her porch.
“Alana Spencer?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry to bring you such bad news, especially at this time of the morning, but your shop is on fire.”
Her eyes flew open, no longer even the slightest bit droopy. “What did you say?”
“Your shop, ma’am. I’m afraid it’s on fire.”
“I’ll be right there.”
In her haste, she left the front door open as she ran to her bedroom and threw on some shoes. She didn’t bother to get dressed—she was wearing thick flannel pajamas and a robe, and she didn’t care who saw her anyway.
When she arrived at the store and climbed out of her car, she nearly threw up. She could see flames through the front window, flames eating her beautiful store. Two firetrucks were parked out front, and she could see at least six firemen. They had the hoses going and it looked like they were doing everything they could, but still, it seemed hopeless. Thank goodness her building didn’t touch the grocery store on her west—there was a parking lot between them—but it did touch the music store on her east, and her stomach roiled when she saw the damage that was being done to that neighboring building.
As if she’d sensed Alana’s thoughts, Julia, the manager of the music store, appeared at her elbow. “It’s all right,” she said, wrapping an arm around Alana’s shoulders. “It’ll be okay.”
“I have insurance,” was all Alana could choke out.
“So do we. We’ll figure it out.”
The two women stood there, faces warmed by the blaze of the fire. If it wasn’t so awful, the heat would feel good in the chilly air.
“At least there’s one thing,” Julia said a moment later.
In The Stars (Main Street Merchants Book 6) Page 11
