Mulberry Moon

by Catherine Anderson

  Sissy, who’d always prided herself on being a person who rarely cried, now found herself battling tears. Again. It was becoming a habit with her, and she didn’t like it. Was he real, this man? He wasn’t asking for or expecting anything from her for doing this. He was building Patches a playground out of the kindness of his heart.

  “Oh, Ben, no wonder I love you.”

  “Keep it coming, sweetheart. I love hearing you say it.”

  “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  He stared down at the boards near his feet. “I had a plan. Now I’ll be damned if I can remember what it was.”

  That made two of them. She’d even forgotten what the main dish for lunch was. “I’ll leave you alone so you can collect your thoughts.” Sissy rose and stood a step above him. “After lunch hour when I’ve finished dinner prep, I hope to close the café and spend time with Patches upstairs. He loves the toys you got him. Maybe you can find time to come up and join us.”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement. “That’s an invitation I won’t turn down. Wow, our first date!”

  “Nope, it’s our second.”

  “It is? How’d I miss the first one?”

  Sissy grinned. “You didn’t. It was our second chickendusting day. I wore a special top and I even put on makeup. It was a date whether you knew it or not.”

  He moved his gaze over her face. “You sure looked pretty when I got here that morning. That touch of mascara really set off your eyes.”

  “You noticed? The makeup, I mean.”

  “I notice everything about you.”

  * * *

  For Sissy, the lunch shift dragged by, every minute seeming like an hour, and then when her customers finally dwindled away to only an occasional drop-in, she still had dinner prep to do. Blackie stopped by for his afternoon coffee and muffin. Sitting at the counter just beyond the pass-through window, he finally got a chance to describe, in precise detail, the new design on the Oregon Ducks football helmets. Sissy made all the appropriate noises and responses, but she was actually thinking about Ben and their “date” that afternoon.

  Blackie kept talking. I should wear something special, she thought. Maybe just a touch of makeup, nothing too obvious. Then she tried to imagine what she and Ben would talk about. She decided it wouldn’t matter. She enjoyed all their conversations. Getting to know him, teasing him—heck, she was starting to feel as if she was almost normal.

  You’re not, she reminded herself. But somehow Ben made her feel good about herself, anyway.

  As she went up the stairs to her flat later, she could still hear Ben working. He hadn’t even come in for lunch. After she had given Patches a cuddle, she was going to put on a special top. Maybe she’d even try to do something different with her hair. A little makeup was definitely on her agenda. I notice everything about you. Well, she wanted to look different enough that she’d be worth noticing for once.

  * * *

  Ben stretched his tape measure along a board and marked the spot where he intended to cut. Without Sissy there to keep him company, he’d opened the driver’s- side door of his truck and turned on the radio, selecting the only local station, which interrupted the country music with important announcements—weather warnings, news, or to tell anyone listening that someone in town needed help. Today the main news topic was the break-in and robbery that had occurred the night before at the veterinary clinic. No suspects yet. Ben was glad to hear that. No apparent motive. Another bit of good news. Everyone should be on the lookout for a gray kitten missing both front feet. Ben was not glad to hear that. Until the furor died down, Patches would have to stay in Sissy’s apartment. That sucked.

  “Oh, my stars!”

  At the sound of Sissy’s voice above him, Ben jumped with a start. He turned to see her leaning out an opened living room window. Even at a distance, she looked so beautiful that she nearly took his breath away.

  “Oh, Ben. It’s going to be the greatest kitten run ever. I love it. Patches is going to love it, too. You’re absolutely amazing.”

  She was the amazing one. Her top, the color of mulberry wine, clung to her figure. Instead of tousling her dark hair every which way, she’d tucked it behind her ears and somehow spiked her bangs. And he was pretty sure she’d put on makeup, because her lips looked nearly as rosy as her top.

  “Is it kitten-watching time?”

  “It is, and I even made food. My version of a Super Bowl party.”

  Ben pulled off his leather gloves. “I’ll be right up.”

  Minutes later, Ben stood on the landing with Finn. When Sissy answered his knock, she cast a worried glance at his dog.

  “He’s good with cats. They’re everywhere at my place.”

  “I need to visit there again. After I close up here, of course. I’d love to have dinner there, as you once suggested, and then tour your chicken facilities.”

  Ben winked at her. “Definitely dinner. For once you won’t have to eat your own cooking.”

  “That sounds nice.” She closed the door behind him, her attention on Finnegan, who noticed the kitten and bounded toward it. “Are you sure—”

  “I’m positive. It’ll be fine.”

  Finn surprised even Ben. It was as if the dog sensed Patches had been hurt. The pup got on his belly and inched toward the kitten. Then they touched noses. Finnegan saw the toy mouse and went to grab it. Patches took a flying leap and covered the stuffed felt with his body.

  “He’s saying it’s his,” Sissy said. “I told you how much he loves it.”

  Wonderful smells drifted to Ben’s nostrils. “Did you make pizza?” he asked, even though the question he really wanted to ask was what kind of perfume she was wearing. It wasn’t lavender. “Man, now my stomach’s growling.” And his blood pressure was rising. The mulberry sweater skimmed her breasts and clung to her torso until the ribbed hem flared over her hips. “That’s a pretty sweater.”

  Her cheeks went pink, and she plucked at the scoop neckline with nervous fingers. Ben had never in his life wanted to kiss a woman so badly. He’d dated plenty of gals whose clothing left little to the imagination. Yet Sissy, in her shy attempt to look pretty, was sexier than all of them put together.

  “Thank you.”

  Ben wished he could dress her, starting with undies and bras from Victoria’s Secret, with her modeling everything for his appreciation. Not that she’d ever agree to that, but he could dream.

  “Grab a seat. I’ll bring the food.”

  Ben sat on the middle sofa cushion, hoping that Sissy would sit beside him because the coffee table would probably be where she laid out the food. A guy could scheme as well as dream.

  Sissy set a giant-size pizza on the coffee table. “It’s a meat lover’s. I slapped it together during the lunch hour and slipped it into the oven up here afterward.”

  Ben’s stomach was gnawing at his backbone, but he had eyes only for the neckline of her sweater and the scant two inches of cleavage it revealed. It provided a breast lover’s view, and he was far more interested in that than the food.

  As she straightened, she caught him looking. Her eyes went laser-beam blue, and for a second, he thought she was pissed. Only then he saw her blush, a telltale sign that it wasn’t anger that had her eyes sparkling. She circled the table to sit beside him, keeping a precise six inches between their hips. Ben bit back a grin. A half foot wasn’t much distance for a man to cover.

  He leaned forward to grab one of the plates and a slice of pizza. As he did, his arm brushed against hers. “Napkins.” She leaped to her feet. “I forgot.”

  “Paper towels are fine,” he told her.

  She returned with two store-bought paper napkins with flowers at the corner. Ben figured his would be soiled after he wiped one hand.

  They finally got settled against the cushions and ate as they watched Finn and Patches play. Finne
gan continued to be gentle. Occasionally he would steal the mouse, Patches would launch an attack to get it back, and then the game would start all over again. Ben laughed. Sissy giggled. He was surprised at how much fun it was. He’d dropped a lot of money on dates in his day, and he’d never enjoyed one as much as this. Of course, it wasn’t so much the visual entertainment as it was being intoxicated by the essence of the woman beside him. He’d told her that he wouldn’t kiss her until she asked him to, and he regretted it now. Dumb mistake.

  When he saw Sissy glancing at her watch, he realized that the dinner hour was approaching. “Did you notice that your buzzer never went off?” he asked. “Normally you have people drop in during the afternoon.”

  “I put up the CLOSED sign. Blackie already came in for his coffee and muffin. Now that I have Patches, I’ve decided I need to take breaks in the afternoon to spend time with him.”

  “And maybe do something outrageous like rest for a while, or go somewhere fun with me?”

  Her smile made her whole face glow. “I’d love that. Where would we go?”

  “A late lunch and a matinee would be fun. And there’s a great park outside of town with a covered pavilion with picnic tables. We could have a snow day, and eat while it snows all around us. If you hired some help, maybe we could do something really crazy, like go out at night, maybe for a nice dinner and dancing.”

  “I don’t know how to dance. But maybe I can learn. And I do need to hire help. It’s getting to be too much for one person.”

  “It’s been too much for one person ever since you opened the café.”

  “I know. But I’m saving, remember. The longer I can tough it out, the quicker I can afford to turn this place into a dream café.” She picked up the dishes. Ben was surprised to see that all the pizza was gone. He couldn’t remember eating that much, let alone how it had tasted. “I’m getting there, though,” she continued. “With money, I mean. It’s time to hire help even if it slows me down.”

  Ben followed her into the kitchen to rinse the dishes and stash them in her dishwasher. As they worked together, she gave him a questioning look. “I’d love it if you’d stay long enough to come in for dinner this evening. Afterward maybe you could help me clean up and do prep so we can actually go out. Seeing a movie would be huge for me.”

  Ben searched her dainty features, trying to read her and failing. “It’s a date. I’ll see what’s playing at the theater.”

  He kissed her on the forehead, wishing as he did that he could trail his lips over every inch of her skin. Then he slapped his thigh to summon his dog, straightened his hat, and walked to the door. “What’s on the menu tonight?”

  “Beef bourguignon, minced pork sliders, Italian sausage lasagna, and—”

  “Stop!” he cut in. “I was sold when you said beef bourguignon. Save me two servings.”

  “Two servings, on the house. It’s my way of repaying you for all your labor today.”

  As Ben strode down the stairs, he wished she would reward him with a long, deep kiss, and to hell with the beef bourguignon. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sissy couldn’t believe how packed the Cauldron was for dinner. It was standing room only again. Glancing around as she rushed between the kitchen and the tables, she juggled ideas along with dishes. When she remodeled, she’d need to add benches at each side of the door so people could sit to wait for a table. As she shoved potatoes into the oven to bake and snatched two steaks off the grill to deliver to a couple celebrating an engagement, she tried to think what it was that had started to draw so many people in. She had experienced a few sparse months when she first reopened the café, but after she learned not to scorch all the food, business picked up fast. Never quite to this degree, though.

  During a brief respite, Sissy gazed out the pass-through window, trying to determine what she was doing differently. Nothing, so far as she could tell. It was as if the Cauldron had become a community gathering place where everyone wanted to eat because they knew good food and great company awaited them here.

  Raised in Mystic Creek, Ben knew nearly everyone, and he enhanced the feeling of camaraderie. He moved from table to table, sometimes even taking a seat. He emanated sincerity and warmth. He made people laugh or grow serious over a topic of conversation. After he moved on, those individuals turned to chat with people who sat nearby.

  Sissy heard a timer buzz and raced back into the kitchen to take three racks of hot lasagna from the main oven. It smelled wonderful, so she knew that much of her newfound success was due to her cooking. But the rest of it was because the café had become an informal gathering place.

  While cleaning the service side of the front counter, Sissy chatted sporadically with Blackie as she worked. She tensed when he asked, “Did you hear about the break- in at the vet clinic last night?”

  Sissy hadn’t heard about it; she’d committed the crime. So she wasn’t really lying when she replied, “No, I haven’t heard about that from anyone.”

  “Well, someone got in. Jack forgot to set the security system and says he may have left the back door unlocked. The cops are saying that the perpetrator could have used a credit card to jimmy the lock. What’s really weird is, the only thing stolen was a kitten that had its front feet amputated. Who’d steal a kitten? Hell, you can get one for a few bucks at the no-kill shelter, and it’d have all four feet.”

  Ma Thomas, who owned a perfume-and-soap shop on East Main, sat one stool over from Blackie. She had more silver in her short hair now than natural blond. Her smile always made Sissy feel warm. “Well, I heard the real story. I can’t say who told me, but the owners of that kitten decided to have it put down just because it lost its front feet! Jack tried to tell them the kitten would adjust and could live a long and happy life, but they—they’re new in town, last name Miller—wouldn’t listen.”

  Blackie sobered. “They were just bent on killing it, no matter what?”

  Ma nodded. “Somebody even offered to adopt it and give it a wonderful home, and they still wouldn’t let it live.”

  “Huh.” Blackie polished off his chocolate cake with an enormous last bite. Cheek bulging, he said, “So it wasn’t really a theft. Somebody rescued the kitten.”

  “That’s what I was told,” Ma replied. “And I have it on good authority. The way I see it, the woman who stole that kitten deserves a medal.” She winked at Sissy. “I’d collect money to have one made for her if it wouldn’t get her in trouble.”

  Sissy’s stomach dropped. She shot a frantic look in Ben’s direction, but he was busy chatting with Christopher. At the edge of Sissy’s mind, she was startled to see that the old man had come in so late, undoubtedly to enjoy socializing. But mostly all she could think was People know. Sissy felt a little dizzy as the realization sank home. Gossip traveled fast in Mystic Creek. If Ma Thomas knew who’d taken the kitten, it wouldn’t be long before everyone in town did.

  “In trouble?” Blackie echoed Ma and slapped his palm on the bar. “If our county sheriff objects to a kitten rescue and some woman does get in trouble, I say we organize a protest! We’ll march to the sheriff’s department and make our voices heard.” He swiveled on his barstool. “Ben!” he roared. “Come here!”

  Sissy, heading to Christopher’s booth to deliver his order, met Ben halfway across the room. “I’m screwed,” she whispered as they passed each other.

  The volume in the restaurant dropped. People watched Ben. He grinned broadly at Blackie. “You look fit to be tied. Did somebody eat all Sissy’s chocolate cake?”

  Blackie slapped his hand on the counter again. “Hell, no, she always saves me a piece. You heard about that kitten that got stolen from the vet clinic last night?”

  Sissy had just returned to the counter. Judging by Ben’s expression, he felt the same way Sissy had when she was asked that question. “Um—I heard something about it tod
ay on the radio.” He flicked a questioning look at Sissy. “What’s up? Did they figure out who did it?”

  “What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s up,” Ma interjected. “Our sheriff dusted the whole joint for fingerprints and is hot on the trail of whoever stole that kitten.”

  “What a waste of our tax dollars!” Blackie complained. “All over a kitten the owners decided to have put down because its front feet were amputated! So some woman decided to rescue the kitten and broke into the clinic to steal it. Now, ain’t that the crime of our new century? Heinous! Punishable by God only knows how much jail time. Lots more important than murders and stuff.”

  Ben lifted an eyebrow. “I think the last homicide here was about seventy-five years ago.”

  Blackie snorted. “It’s still foolishness if you ask me. Does your brother Barney know about this?”

  Ben frowned. “I don’t really know, Blackie. We haven’t spoken today.”

  “Well, I’ll be the first to tell him I hope he’s not involved in that stupid investigation. Trying to locate and arrest a kitten rescuer is a waste of everybody’s time and tax dollars.”

  * * *

  It seemed to Sissy that her diners would never leave, but a few minutes before nine o’clock people paid their tabs, collected their coats, and began walking out. When everyone but Ben was gone, Sissy locked the front door and turned her sign to read CLOSED.

  “There went going to see a movie,” she cried as she turned to face him. “I couldn’t focus on the screen. We are so screwed! Who could have known it was me? What if I go to jail?”

  Ben closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. Sissy had been held tightly by men, but never had the sensation made her feel safe. “Sweetheart, you won’t go to jail. If anyone gets arrested, it’ll be me, the idiot who did it.”