by Kay Correll
They finally sat by the window to take a break. Annie got them both a cold soda, and she perched on a chair, sipping the drink. “Thanks for your help, Nick. That would have taken me forever to do it myself.”
“Much easier with two people.” He stretched out his long, jean-clad legs.
His boots looked fairly new, with just a few scuffs on them. She was pretty certain he’d bought them since his arrival in Colorado. Along with his newish-looking jeans and the blue flannel shirt he had on today. But she figured he hadn’t had much use for that type of clothing in Los Angeles.
“You’re staring at me,” Nick said matter-of-factly.
The heat of a blush rushed across her cheeks. “No, I… well, I guess I was. Looking at your new mountain clothes.”
He grinned. “Yep, a bit different than my California wardrobe.” He rubbed his hand on his leg. “I’ve missed the feel of jeans. Though these could use about a dozen washings to soften them up.”
“So the boots are new, too?”
He smiled. “They are. Remember my old boots? I loved those things. I don’t know whatever happened to them. Must have gotten rid of them in one of my moves.”
She knew darn well what happened to them. Should she confess now? She looked out the window, then back at Nick. “I… well, you left them here when you… went away. Remember, you were staying with Johnny when you came to town that weekend. You were in such a hurry to leave that you left some of your things. Johnny gave them to me to send to you. But I never did.”
“Can’t say I blame you.”
“I… well, I burned them.”
“You what?” His eyes widened.
“Burned them. You have any idea how long it takes to burn the soles of cowboy boots?”
Nick laughed. “No, I guess I don’t.”
She grinned at him. “It was kind of cathartic to toss them into the fire. Though, I did have to finally just bury the remains of the soles.”
“Well, that solves the mystery of the missing boots.”
“So it looks like you’ll just have to keep breaking in those new ones.”
“Guess I will…” He winked at her. “But I’m not planning on leaving these behind when I leave. Don’t want another perfectly good pair of boots burned up.”
There it was. When he leaves. He would be leaving. She had to remind herself. This was just a momentary thing.
She sat up straight. “Well, I guess we should wrap it up. It’s been a long afternoon. I do appreciate your help.”
“No problem.” Nick got to his feet and reached out a hand for her.
She couldn’t just not take his offered hand, could she? She slowly placed her hand in his. A shot of heat rushed up her arm. She quickly jumped up and grabbed her hand back. Away from his firm grip. Away from the connection.
“So, how about a small payment for my help?” He cocked his head to one side and smiled. That darn smile of his.
Annie frowned. He knew she didn’t have extra money to hire someone to help her. She’d explained all that. She’d thought he was just offering to help because they were friends. Because… why was he helping her?
“Do you still make the best fried chicken in town?” He winked at her. “I could use a home-cooked meal.”
“I…” Did she want to have him over to her house? No, of course not. But how could she refuse? He’d helped her all afternoon. “Yes, I still fry chicken. Not sure it’s the best in town though.”
“Bet it still is.” Nick flashed that smile at her.
Again with the smile. Could he ever talk without smiling? “Okay, okay. Fried chicken it is. Tomorrow night?”
“I’ll be there.” Nick nodded with a self-satisfied grin on his face.
What had she done? Working side by side was one thing. But sitting at a table with him, talking, nothing keeping them too busy to discuss things? That was just seriously crazy.
Nick reached for his jacket. “Oh, hey. I don’t know where you live now.”
“I live in my father’s house. Well, my house now, I guess.”
“Okay. I’ll see you about six?”
She nodded and watched him head down the stairs. What madness had she gotten herself into?
Man, if Nora found out… her friend would kill her.
Chapter 9
Nick hurried back to his cabin after teaching on Monday and got ready to head to Annie’s. He put on a clean shirt. He’d picked up flowers and a bottle of wine on his way home. He wanted the evening to be relaxing and…
And what? Where was all of this heading?
He couldn’t believe he’d asked himself over to dinner. But the words had just slipped out. Words had a way of doing that around Annie.
He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. Nora came out of the cabin next to his carrying a laundry basket. “Nick, you headed out for dinner?”
“Yep. Having dinner with Annie. She’s making me her fried chicken.”
Nora scowled. “I thought you were going to stay away from her.”
“I… well, I’m helping her with the remodel.”
“So I heard. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“She needs the help.” He shrugged. Nora was just being protective of Annie, he got that. But he had no plans to complicate Annie’s life. He was helping her. That’s all this was. And maybe getting a good home-cooked meal in the process.
“Just be careful, Nick. I don’t want to see Annie hurt again.”
He stood staring at Nora. He had no plans to hurt Annie. He hadn’t planned on hurting her all those years ago either. He let out a long sigh. “We’re just friends now.”
Nora didn’t look convinced.
Is that what they were? Friends? Maybe less, maybe more? He nodded at Nora and climbed into the SUV. He pulled out onto the main road and followed the familiar turns to Annie’s house. The one she’d grown up in. The one he’d spent so many hours at. He realized he was eager to see it again.
Or maybe he was eager to see Annie again.
Things were getting complicated. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to overanalyze everything just like Annie did. He smiled at the thought.
He pulled up in front of her house, slightly surprised it looked just the same, but glad it did. He climbed the front steps to the long, wooden deck. A porch swing still hung at the far end with a couple of rocking chairs in front of the big picture window. The cabin was nestled in a grove on Ponderosa Creek, a small stream that branched off of the Sweet River. Annie’s father—well, Annie now—owned ten acres of this paradise. Enough for privacy, but close enough to hop into town.
The scent of evergreen cascaded around him. The wind picked up, and he’d heard there was a chance of a spring snow later this week. He wouldn’t mind being here in Sweet River for another snowfall. He hadn’t seen snow in years, except for some fake snow at a Christmas party he’d been invited to last year in L.A.
He juggled the wine bottle, knocked on the door, and waited patiently for Annie to answer. Maybe not so patiently. He shifted from foot to foot, holding the flowers in one hand and grasping the bottle of wine in the other.
The door swung open and light spilled out onto the deck. She stood in faded jeans, stockinged feet, and a yellow sweater.
She looked…
He couldn’t even think of the word.
Wonderful. Lovely. Beautiful.
He thrust the flowers toward her, speechless.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Annie took the flowers, realizing her response was not exactly gracious. “Come in.”
He entered the cabin like he had a million times when he’d come to see her when they were younger. Much younger. He paused just inside the door and slowly looked all around the main room of the cabin. “It looks so much the same.”
“Yes, I know.” Why did that sound like an apology?
“No, I like that it’s the same. Always loved your father’s cabin. Your cabin now.”
Annie closed the door behind him. “I
haven’t really changed anything. I did take down all the posters from the wall of my bedroom.” She grinned. “Painted the walls a pale yellow. Oh, and bought a new bedspread.” Now, why had she told him that?
“You didn’t take over the master bedroom?”
“I… no, I still feel like that’s Dad’s room.” She shrugged. “Besides, I just feel more comfortable in my old room.”
Nick slipped off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. “I brought us some wine.” He held out the bottle. “A dry red. I didn’t know what you liked now, so I just guessed. Figured this was better than the terrible cheap beer we used to drink.”
“I’m sure it will be lovely.” Annie turned. “Come on back to the kitchen.” She heard his steps echoing on the wood floors as he followed her. It was so strange to have Nick back here at the cabin.
“Well, this is new.” Nick stood in the middle of the kitchen.
“I did have to replace some appliances. The fridge died. I replaced that beat up white one with this stainless one. Then replaced the stove, too. Couldn’t get the old one to stay lit, and the oven wasn’t heating evenly. They both were a million years old, anyway.”
“Still no dishwasher?”
“No, I prefer to just wash dishes by hand. It’s not like there’s ever a crowd here.” She crossed to a cabinet and got out an old mason jar, filled it with water, and placed the flowers in it. “The flowers look nice, don’t they?”
“Lots of yellow flowers in that bouquet. You still like yellow, don’t you?”
“Of course.” She glanced down at her sweater. “I feel like half my wardrobe is some shade of yellow.”
“I remember well. Glad to see it hasn’t changed.” His eyes sparkled with laughter, and he held up the wine bottle. “Hey, you got a wine opener? I could open the wine for us.”
She handed him the opener and peeked into the oven at the loaf of bread just beginning to brown.
Nick poured them both a glass of wine and handed one to her. He leaned against the counter as she put the first pieces of chicken into the frying pan.
It was all so familiar. Nick lounging in the kitchen as she cooked. She’d always done the cooking for her father while she lived with him. She’d finally moved out into an apartment of her own in her thirties, but her father hadn’t really been a fan of the change. But she’d thought it was the right thing to do. She should live on her own. It was expected at some time in her life. But she had still come over and cooked for both of them a couple times a week.
She’d lived in that same apartment until her father passed away, and then she’d moved back here. She could sometimes still feel him here with her. She liked touching things he used to touch. Running her hand along the furniture pieces he’d built for the cabin, still feeling like she was connected with him.
“You okay? You look lost in thought.”
“What? Yes, I’m fine.” Just seeing Nick here at the cabin brought up visions of the past. Somewhat comforting and somewhat unsettling.
Nick shifted his stance against the counter. “The chicken smells great. And is that your homemade bread I smell baking?”
“It is. Haven’t baked a loaf in a long time. We’ll have to see how it turns out.”
She finished up dinner while Nick set the table, and they both slipped into their chairs across from each other. She panicked for a moment when an overwhelming urge to run swept over her. Which was ridiculous. She was just having dinner with Nick. It wasn’t anything more.
So why the panic?
She steadied her nerves and brought up the weather. That was safe. They talked weather and the forecast for the upcoming snow storm. They discussed Nick’s teaching job while he devoured every piece of chicken, two helpings of green beans, and a sizable chunk of the homemade bread.
He leaned back in his chair after the meal, sipping on his wine. “That was remarkable. Better than I remembered. I can’t tell you the last time I’ve had a home cooked meal.”
“Don’t you cook for yourself?”
“Nope. Rarely have time. Occasionally I might grill out a steak, but that’s about it. I mostly grab food at the hospital or the diner across from it.”
“I thought doctors were supposed to be health nuts and eat nutritious meals.”
“Maybe. I mostly just forge my way through the day.”
“That can’t be good.” She frowned. “You should make it a point to eat better.”
“I probably should.”
Nick was surprised to find he liked Annie fussing over his eating habits. It was a strange feeling to have someone care what he did or what he ate. Annie was looking down at her plate now like she’d crossed some line with her comment. But that frown of hers? That had to go.
“You sure frown a lot now.”
Annie looked up in surprise. “I do?”
“You do. You used to smile all the time.”
“I… I don’t even know what to say to that.” Her forehead began to crease into a frown, but she caught herself.
“I didn’t mean that as a criticism, just an observation.” He’d probably put his foot in it now. It had been forever since he’d had a conversation with a woman about anything other than medicine. He rarely dated.
But then, this wasn’t a date.
He quickly changed the subject… but not back to food because he wasn’t sure he wanted more talk about his lousy eating habits. He vowed to change them. Well, at least he’d try. “So, how long have you owned Bookish Cafe?”
“A long time. I worked at Bet’s Books for a while—do you remember that shop? I also helped out my dad with his business. I ended up keeping the accounts for his construction company. When Bet decided to retire, I bought her shop. Then when this space that I’m in now came available, I moved the shop. I expanded some and added the cafe. Then I added on the gift section and souvenir area. A little bit of everything. It’s still mostly the bookstore, though. The other things just help to pay the bills.”
“You’ve sure done a lot with it. You always did have a good head for business.”
A blush crossed her face, and she reached for her napkin, carefully folded it, and placed it beside her plate. “With people reading ebooks now, and online magazines, it’s been a slow decline in book sales. I do think people still like to come and browse and hang out. I try to make it a fun place to come and visit with friends. Some of the people outside of town who can’t get internet service come and grab the Wi-Fi, too.”
“I’m impressed, Annie.”
He watched while the lovely blush deepened across her cheeks.
“So, tell me more about your work. I mean your work in Los Angeles.” She changed the subject, and just like that his heart started to pound.
He didn’t like to talk about his work in L.A. At least not anymore. So he deftly avoided her question. “I’ve actually applied for a research job. It’s in Houston. They’re doing some cutting-edge research, and I’d like to be a part of it.” And it wouldn’t involve day in and day out care of patients. It would be safe.
“That sounds interesting.”
“Anyway, that’s my plan. If I get the job. We’ll see. It takes them forever to make a decision. Lots of bureaucracy. But in the meantime, I have my teaching job.” Yes, let’s talk about my safe teaching job. It was a simple job. He could impart his knowledge to these young, hopeful students. These almost-doctors who hadn’t had time to become jaded.
“So your plan is to give up your practice and go totally into research? Won’t you miss the kids?”
“I…” He couldn’t begin to answer that. He did miss the kids. Especially the few that managed to capture his heart, even though he knew he shouldn’t let that happen. But sometimes, he couldn’t help it. Sometimes a child or two just sneaked in and took hold. But with a research job, he wouldn’t have to worry about that.
Annie was still looking at him, waiting for an answer.
“I think I can help more kids with research than one on one.” H
e’d leave it at that. A simple statement. No more hugs from kids he’d managed to get into remission. No more grateful tears from their parents.
But also, no more telling a parent that there was no hope left for their child, nothing else he could do for them except try and keep them comfortable. And even then, sometimes he failed at that.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Anyway, let me help you with the dishes.” He stood up, grabbed his plate, and headed over to the sink, ending all talk of his prior career and the choices he’d made.
Chapter 10
The next day after teaching, Nick was convinced he’d probably die without a good cup of coffee to get him through the afternoon. He’d just stop by Bookish Cafe and grab that best cup of coffee in Sweet River Falls.
He entered the store and looked around. Customers sat in groups at the tables, chatting, eating, or sipping coffee. A few browsed through the racks of books. A young couple sat at a table in the corner, their heads bent together, looking at a laptop screen. He searched the store and saw Annie reading to a group of children in the corner. The children sat in rapt attention on mats on the floor as she held up a book to show them the pictures as she read along.
He wondered if there was anything she didn’t do to keep this store up and running, to make it a regular meeting place for the townsfolk and tourists in town. He crossed to the counter and ordered a large black coffee, paid for an outdoor life magazine, then settled down at a table in the back to enjoy the fragrant brew.
Okay, really he was waiting for Annie to finish.
He’d had a good time at her home last night, except for all the talk about his career. The rest was nice, though. A simple evening. Good company. Great food. It just seemed so… normal. Was that really how most people lived? Not stressing over life and death decisions?
He paged through the magazine, browsing through ads for hiking gear. He wouldn’t mind getting in some hiking time while he was here. Though he’d have to buy gear for that, too. Hiking boots, backpack, and water bottle at the very least. He grabbed his phone and started typing in a list of supplies to get at Alpine Outfitters.
