“Mama beh,” Milly asked with a high, sweet voice.
“Yes, that’s right, Mama bear is coming home today with Max.” At the sound of his brother’s name, Milly looked toward the door. “Not now, later.” Tad returned to his cleaning while Milly picked up the cups and stacked them one on top of the other. “You are such a clever girl. Yes, you are.”
And the look on Milly’s face said she was happy to agree. Or maybe she was just happy.
Chapter Two – Heather
“What happened to the chairs?” Heather asked no one in particular. She was trying to be diplomatic in asking the question to everyone in the room when she knew for certain her mom was responsible for rearranging Heather’s carefully designed layout of the chairs and tables for the grand opening of the Bear Creek Craft Barn.
“I thought they would look better over by the rear door. With the door open, there will be more of a breeze since it will get hot in here when it’s full of people,” her mother answered, confirming Heather’s suspicions. Lillian crossed the barn and stood next to her daughter with her hands on her seventy-year-old hips, that still knew how to sway to a salsa. Bright-eyed and vibrant, Lillian’s energy and enthusiasm had helped carry Heather through some dark days.
But that didn’t mean Lillian could swap things around inside the barn. Not when the opening was in two days’ time and Heather had spent many sleepless nights getting the layout just right.
“Mom, I thought we agreed you would manage your workspace and gallery as you want and you would leave the rest to me,” Heather replied diplomatically.
“I was just trying to help. You have so much else to do, honey.” Lillian’s concern punched a hole in Heather’s frustration.
“I know, Mom. But I’ve planned out the barn meticulously so there is a natural flow of people from one artist to the next. And the rear door has to be kept clear for health and safety reasons. It’s one of three fire escapes,” Heather kept her tone even. It wasn’t as if Lillian was doing it to be malicious or to undermine Heather.
That would never be Lillian Cornice’s goal. At least not consciously. But as Heather was discovering since she moved to Bear Creek a month ago with her two children and her mother, Lillian Cornice’s subconscious mind was more in control than her conscious mind. Heather’s stomach contracted as a wave of fear washed over her. Lillian was getting old, even though neither of them wanted to admit it. What if Lillian’s mind was showing its age more than her body?
How would either of them cope if Lillian suffered from dementia? Living in a new town with no support network would cripple both of them.
Heather inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly. She couldn’t think about that now. Once the opening was over, Heather could breathe again and take stock of their situation.
Anyway, it was probably nothing. Her mom had always been as abstract as her paintings, since as long as Heather could remember.
Lillian had always insisted her abstract paintings came from a place deep inside, where ideas bloomed and grew like wild orchids in the desert. Unexpected and beautiful, her paintings challenged the observer.
“Come and see how I’ve arranged the chairs.” Lillian reached for her daughter’s hand and propelled her across the slate-tiled floor of the renovated barn, refusing to give in to mundane ideas like health and safety. “Then you will understand.”
“Mom. Please.” Heather pulled her hand away. “I don’t have time for this.” She lowered her voice as she sensed the watchful eyes of the half-dozen craftsmen who had agreed to rent space in the Craft Barn to sell their unique crafts. “Mom, we are two days away from opening. I have a long list of things I have to do. Please, help me by letting me do my job.”
Lillian’s mouth pressed into a thin line of discontentment. “Why don’t you let me arrange the barn and you focus on the other things on your list.” She waved her bone-white hands around as if casting a spell.
“No.” Heather’s steely answer was met with narrowed eyes from Lillian. “Mom, please don’t fight me on this.”
“I never fight with you,” Lillian insisted. “When have we ever fought?”
Heather sighed. Never, they never fought. Bickered maybe, but never fought. “Mom, I have to go and deal with the catering. I need you to put the chairs back as they were.”
“Heather…” Lillian locked eyes with her daughter, her gaze filled love.
Mixed with a look of disappointment.
A look that triggered one painful memory in Heather’s head. “A couple marries for life. Your father and I stayed married until death did part us. I’m glad that happened before he had to witness the breakdown of your marriage. It would have broken his heart.”
That last one was the sucker punch, the one that hit her so hard in the gut it left her breathless. Lillian often spoke without thinking. When Heather broke the news to her mom that her marriage was over and she was getting a divorce, Lillian had been devastated.
Although she’d immediately apologized, Lillian’s words were etched indelibly on Heather’s brain.
Heather’s father was the sweetest man and she missed him terribly. While her mother had been devastated at the news Heather’s marriage had ended, her father would have been understanding, full of offers of support and love.
“I’ll rearrange the chairs and tables.” Lillian placed her hand on Heather’s shoulder. “I love you and I’m so proud of you.” Her mom continued to make amends for her reflex comments about Heather’s marriage and probably always would.
“Thanks, Mom.” Heather slid her arm around her mom’s thin shoulders. “I love you, too, and I’m proud of you.”
Lillian laughed. “Proud of the silly woman who was afraid her daughter wouldn’t be able to look after herself. What a fool I was to doubt you.”
“There is nothing foolish about Lillian Cornice.” Heather dropped a kiss on her mom’s head.
“You go do what you need to do.” Lillian pulled away from her daughter. “And I promise not to move another thing unless you give me permission.”
“In writing,” Heather joked as she walked away.
The tension in her neck threatened to turn into a headache. Heather closed her eyes briefly as she crossed the slate-tiled floor, heading for the exit. She needed air, she needed to clear her head…
“You look as if you need a coffee.” Edgar Marlborough appeared out of nowhere like a knight in shining armor and thrust a hot cup of coffee at her.
“Thanks.” Heather gave Edgar a lopsided smile. “How did you guess?”
“I’m good at spotting a damsel in distress,” Edgar flashed his too-white teeth at Heather. At sixty-eight, with a large house on the outskirts of Bear Creek, Edgar was what her mother would call a good catch. Lillian was probably right. He was a good catch. Edgar was funny and charming.
And rich. Her mom’s voice sounded in her head.
And too old, Heather said in reply.
Edgar was the kind of man who would take care of Heather and her children. But Heather didn’t want to be taken care of. She wanted to blaze her own trail across the sky.
“Thanks, Edgar.” Heather accepted the coffee from the silver fox.
“My pleasure,” Edgar purred, and Heather suddenly realized how much the smooth talker resembled the bronze statues he cast. They were all of iconic people from the past. From mythical people like King Arthur and Merlin, to American presidents, to film stars like Marilyn Monroe. “Shall I walk you outside?”
He raised an eyebrow, reminding her of Roger Moore as 007 as Heather shook her head. “Thanks, Edgar, that is very sweet of you, but I have so much to do, I’m going to drink this while I make a couple of calls.”
“How is your mom?” Edgar’s question took Heather by surprise. Wow, she’d been so caught up in herself that she hadn’t realized Edgar had no plan to be a good catch for Heather, but for her mom. Although, he might be wasting his time since Lillian hadn’t dated once since her husband died.
“She�
��s doing well. She’s hung her paintings as if they were in an art gallery. Lillian does have an eye for these things,” Heather admitted.
“And you?” Edgar asked kindly.
“I’m okay. Nervous.” Heather sipped her coffee and looked up at the mountains in the distance. “Although, right now, I would love to run up to the top of those mountains and scream.”
Edgar chuckled. “That good.” He lifted his hand as if to touch her, but then lowered it to his side. “You’ll do fine. The idea of the craft barn was inspiring and the support from everyone in town will make it a success.”
“Thanks, Edgar.” Heather drained her coffee cup. “For the coffee and the chat.”
“You are welcome.” He held his hand out for the empty cup. “I’m looking forward to meeting your aunt. Lillian has told me all about her.”
“Rosemary. Yes, I can’t believe she’s agreed to open the craft barn. Just her being here will give us a great deal of credibility.” Heather’s aunt, Rosemary Cantrell, was a world-famous potter who had displayed her work in the finest galleries all over the world. Heather would never have asked her to come and open the Bear Creek Craft Barn, but when Rosemary offered, there was no way she was going to turn her aunt down.
“If she’s half the woman your mother is, I shall not be disappointed.” A pink tinge crept over Edgar’s tanned complexion. He truly liked Lillian.
“You’ve been a good friend to us since we moved here, Edgar. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.” Heather kissed his cheek lightly.
“Thank you, Heather. Although, I might have had some self-interest. This craft barn has given me a new outlook on life. I was fading away stuck in that house of mine all alone day after day. Now, I get up in the morning with a spring in my step.” He flashed a white smile. “That might be an exaggeration. These old bones don’t spring much anymore.”
“You have plenty of life in you yet, Edgar.” Heather checked her watch, she really needed to get on with the items on her to-do list. “My mom likes to dance.”
“She does?” Edgar asked in surprise then his eyes twinkled. “But would she like it if I asked her to dance?”
“I can’t answer for Lillian. You know her well enough to understand she has a mind of her own.” Edgar’s expression sobered. “But I know she misses having someone to dance with. The salsa is not the same without a partner.”
Edgar’s eyes twinkled. “Then I’ll ask her. No strings attached, of course,” he added quickly. “I understand she loved your father very much. And I’m not expecting a big romance. Just a friend to spend some time with.” He winked at Heather. “Unless she wants more, of course.”
Heather’s ex-husband, Andy, used to tell her what they were doing, rather than asking for her views and opinions. She’d vowed when Andy cheated on her and tried to persuade Heather it was her fault for not being supportive enough, she would never be with a man who didn’t respect her. Maybe that was why she liked Edgar. Despite the retired playboy persona he projected, Edgar truly cared for Lillian and wanted her to be happy.
The complete opposite of Andy, whose idea of a supportive wife was one who agreed to join a swinging club for married couples to spice up their love life. He complained the marriage had become stale since the arrival of the children.
However, Heather was a one-man, one-lover girl. Faithfulness and loyalty were the cornerstones of any relationship.
Her mother had taught her that. She smiled sadly and cast a look over her shoulder. Catching a glimpse of her mom through the open barn doorway, her heart swelled with love and loss. Despite Lillian’s often erratic behavior, Heather had learned her most important of life lessons from her mom. How to love. Because Lillian had loved her husband, Heather’s father, more than anything in the world. More than her own child.
But Heather understood why. Her father was the best of men. Kind, patient, even if a little too indulgent toward his wife and daughter.
Heather would give anything to find a man like that. The kind of man who would love her unconditionally for who she was and not try to change her. A man who would also love Heather’s two children as if they were his own.
Glancing at her watch, Heather said, “Thanks again for the coffee.”
“And thank you for the advice.” Edgar stared thoughtfully after Heather as she hurried away from the barn, following the stone path to the small makeshift office. Over the last few weeks, she’d spent hours sitting at the cramped desk, implementing her plan to take a derelict barn and turn it into Bear Creek Craft Barn.
Finally, her dreams and schemes were about to bear fruit.
Her hand shook with nervous excitement as she opened the office door and went inside. Edging her way along the length of the office, she sat down at her desk, which was positioned to one side so she could stare up at the whiteboard filled with handwritten notes, typed documents and drawings.
As she leaned back in her office chair, she recalled the first time she’d sat here all alone, scared and excited at the prospect of such a large project. It seemed surreal now that she was so close to completing phase one of her plans.
Heather covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the huge sob bubbling up inside her. She’d done it. From somewhere deep inside her, she’d plucked up the courage to make her dream a reality. The taste of victory was all the sweeter because, after her marriage to Andy, her confidence had been left in tatters. She’d lost sight of who she was and become a person she hardly recognized.
Not that she regretted marrying Andy. Even with all the crap, he’d put her through, it was worth it. More than worth it because together they had created two little miracles, who were growing into two wonderful human beings. Heather loved her children so very much and she wanted to prove to them that she could pull herself together and succeed.
Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket, making her jump. Pulling it out, she tapped the screen excitedly. “Hello, Rosemary. How are you?” Rosemary was the star attraction for Bear Creek Craft Barn’s opening day on Saturday. A renowned potter and teacher, she’d sent ahead some of her pots, plates, and vases, which Lillian had helped arrange inside the barn ready for the opening.
Rosemary was due to arrive tomorrow night, when they would have a private family celebration before the opening on Saturday when Rosemary would cut the red ribbon and declare Bear Creek Craft Barn officially open for business.
“Not good.” Rosemary sniffed loudly.
“Whatever’s wrong?” Heather tried to focus on Rosemary’s welfare, but a selfish thought snuck into her head. If Rosemary couldn’t make the opening, would it be too late to find anyone else? Success seemed to be slipping away from Heather like grains of sand through her fingers.
“I’ve broken my arm.” Rosemary erupted in a cascade of sobs.
“Rosemary. I’m so sorry.” Heather’s heart wrenched at the news. A broken arm to most people was an inconvenience, to Rosemary it meant no work. With no husband or children, Rosemary’s work was her life, even though she was past retirement age. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, not really. No one can make my pots for me.” Rosemary sniffed as she pulled herself together. “And at least I can still teach, although I can’t do a demonstration. Maybe I’ll go on that cruise I’ve been thinking about for years.”
“There’s your bright side,” Heather said gently. “But I mean it. If there is anything I can do, you only have to ask.”
“I know you have enough to do there… Which brings me around to the reason I am calling.” Rosemary paused. “I don’t think I’ll make it to the opening of the craft barn, I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t be. You need to get some rest and stay positive.” Heather wrinkled her brow. Did she sound too okay about Rosemary not coming? Artists could be a little flaky and Heather didn’t want Rosemary to think she wouldn’t be missed. Especially since her dropping out left a gaping hole in the opening day. “We will miss you on the day.”
“I’ll t
ry. But I have to see a specialist tomorrow and I can’t guarantee I can get there. I can’t drive, I can barely even dress myself…” Rosemary sounded tired.
“Don’t worry about us, Rosemary.” Heather listened to Rosemary’s breath as it caught in her chest. “Is there something else?”
“No. I’ll be fine.” She paused, not sounding fine.
“Rosemary?” Heather prodded for more information. “You can tell me.”
“I just feel so vulnerable.” Rosemary’s voice cracked. “I’ve always prided myself on being able to take care of myself. And now I feel like a helpless baby.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Don’t tell Lillian.”
“Why not?” Heather asked gently. “You know Mom loves you. She’d do anything for you.”
“I’m the one who told her to be strong when your dad died. She looked up to me. As an example.” Rosemary took another deep, jagged breath. “And now listen to me.”
Heather pushed aside all of her own problems. “Right, as soon as you are ready, give me a call and I’ll come and get you. You can stay with us until you are healed.”
“No!” Rosemary exclaimed. “You’ve only just moved to Bear Creek and you probably don’t have the room and you have the opening…”
“You leave me to worry about all that. Mom would love to have you stay. And to be honest, it might help.” Heather closed her eyes and blinked back tears.
“Are you okay?” Rosemary asked.
“Yes. I’m fine. I’m just a little worried about Mom…and her memory…” Heather’s voice trailed off.
“Heather, I know she can seem erratic, but I’m certain she’s fine,” Rosemary reassured Heather.
“I know, I’d just like you to come and see her. Talk to her and then tell me it’s all in my head. I love her so much and she’s been so supportive. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to her.” Heather was more than likely overreacting, but she was scared the stress of the move had affected her mom.
“She loves you to the moon and back,” Rosemary sounded more like her normal self. “I’d love to come and stay. If only to reassure you.”
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