Her stomach plummeted. How many times had she seen her father’s desk in much the same condition? Her dad circling the threadbare rug at home with a notepad in hand, mumbling one scheme after another for taking small town, USA, by storm.
Any connection she’d felt with Daniel slipped away like a dropped stitch, leaving disappointment lodged in her chest. She could almost see the gears turning in his head. The man was a dreamer. Shouldn’t she have expected this after hearing he liked to start new projects?
She could imagine his quest.
Another soul won. Another small business saved. Another needy person helped—like Cricket...or Lilly.
Disgust churned in her gut. She didn’t want to ask him to help Jenna. Sharing the basement of her building with him would be taxing enough.
She stood, ready to escape and deal with Jenna by herself, and nearly ran into Daniel.
He turned to avoid a collision as he squeezed by her. “Oh, hi, Lilly. You’re just the person I wanted to see.” He pointed her to the chair she’d vacated and then leaned on his desk, crossing his legs. “I’m glad you came today.”
His eyes were warm, welcoming, as if he meant what he’d said. She nearly let it suck her in. She reminded herself why she was there. “Jenna hoped to see Ned.” And the venture had been wasted.
“I’m sorry. Ned got called in to work.” Daniel reached behind him and grabbed one of his notepads, flipped two pages over. When he looked up, his blue eyes shone like when she’d first met him.
Maybe she should renege on the offer to rent to him. She needed stable. Calm. Reliable. Not this new version of Daniel so like her dad.
Awkward silence hung between them as he stared into her eyes.
Unable to stand another instant, she said, “So...what’s on your paper?”
“Cricket’s situation inspired me to brainstorm ways to help her and other girls.”
Uh-oh. She stood up and tucked Will against her hip. “Look, I don’t know where this is leading, but I need to go. Jenna’s waiting in the car, and Will needs his nap.”
He’d used two of the five words that had always instilled dread in Lilly: inspire and brainstorm. The other three were dream, opportunity and—
He reached out to stop her, setting his hand lightly on her arm. “Please hear me out. I have an idea for a project. And I need your help.”
—and idea.
He’d used three of her dad’s favorite buzzwords. Words that always ended up making Lilly’s life miserable.
And she’d offered to let him share her building?
She wouldn’t be a part of his plan, no matter how good it sounded. She had more on her plate than she could handle. And a sister in the car sobbing, to boot.
“No, Daniel. I’m sorry, but I really have to go.”
On Monday, she was supposed to sign a contract with Reverend Daniel Foreman. What on earth had she gotten herself into?
Chapter Four
Daniel stood across from Lilly at The Yarn Barn sales counter with pen in hand, ready to sign the contract before she could change her mind.
She slid one copy of the stapled papers across to him. “It’s very basic. I found the template online. Let me know if you see anything I’ve forgotten.”
He gave it a thorough reading. “Looks like you covered the bases.” And, surprisingly, hadn’t put a time limit on the rental. “I plan to have our church treasurer sign as well since I don’t know how long I’ll be here. We can add another line for him.”
“That’s fine.”
“I wanted him on the contract, too. For continuity.”
Frosty hazel eyes speared him. “Yes, continuity...people who can manage to stay in one place for a while.”
Her disapproving tone reminded him of his dad, sending ripples of frustration through him. He wanted to tell her that she had no right to judge him or his calling. But instead, he calmly said, “Care to explain why you have such a problem with me leaving once the church is well established?”
Her face reddened, and she crossed her arms so tightly he wondered how she could breathe. The issue was obviously personal to her.
“Never mind,” he said. “Doesn’t matter how you feel about me personally.” He quickly signed and dated both copies, and then slid the papers back to her.
When she didn’t move, he offered his pen. Had his temper messed up everything?
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I sound judgmental. I can’t help disliking when people leave every time opportunity strikes.”
“Did I hit a nerve—someone in your life?”
She straightened two pens lying on the counter, chewed her lip. “My dad.”
So he was right about the personal part. “You’ve hinted at a difficult childhood. Did your father leave you?”
Pain sparked in her eyes, then faded to flatness. “No, not physically.”
When she didn’t elaborate, he waited, staring at her profile as she gazed across the shop.
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “He was a dreamer, okay?” She glared at him as if angry at him for pushing her. “A dreamer who blamed others for his failures and uprooted us over and over, looking for the next sure thing.”
Having her categorize him with her father, who’d made life miserable for his family, disturbed him. Deeply.
He leaned on the counter so he could look into her eyes. “Lilly, I’m not being lured away by the church in South Georgia. I won’t leave until we’ve accomplished our goals here.”
“I’m assuming your church knows your plan?”
“Yes. I’ve been up front from day one. Told them my vision for my ministry.”
She uncrossed her arms, but she still didn’t accept his pen. “Do you think they really understand? That they truly comprehend you mean to leave as quickly as you can? Because I can’t imagine throwing myself into something, behind someone, when I knew at any moment he’d walk away.”
What could he say to that? She had her opinions, and he wouldn’t be swaying them anytime soon. He once again offered his pen.
Her mouth tilted in a semblance of a smile as she took his pen, but he had the distinct impression she didn’t relish the idea of binding herself to him.
Or, rather, to his church.
He had to remember that. She wasn’t signing an agreement with him personally.
She scrawled her signature. Once on the church’s copy. Once on hers.
“I’ll ask the treasurer to drop by sometime today if possible.” Time to get down to business. To ignore the disappointment eating at him. Why should he care how his landlord felt about him?
He pulled a measuring tape from his pocket and pointed to the basement door. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead. There’s a door around back that leads directly to the basement. I’ll get another copy of the key made so you can come and go as you please.”
She obviously didn’t want him in her way. He’d be happy to oblige. “Thanks.”
As he started down the stairs, a wall of cool, damp air smacked into him.
“So when do you think you’ll move in?” Lilly called.
“I plan to bring the three high school boys I mentor to help after school this week. Other church members are ready to jump in, as well. My goal is to hold our first service here this Sunday.”
She gave a barely detectable sigh. “Wow, that quickly. I look forward to seeing the revamped space.”
“It won’t be totally done by Sunday. But if all goes well, it’ll be good enough for us to meet here.”
She clamped her lips together, but a hint of dimple dipped in her cheek. “So I guess Frank will be relieved to have his restaurant back. And you won’t have to smell pizza cooking.”
“Yeah. No more stomachs growling during the sermon.
”
When she released her hold on the smile, it slammed into him. Was she trying, in her teasing, to make up for accusing him of being like her father?
He headed down the steps, trying to ignore the fact he cared so much about her opinion of him.
* * *
Lilly paced the uneven wood floor of The Yarn Barn, her stomach as nervous as the first day of school in a new town. When a hammer pounded downstairs, she flinched.
“Do you think anyone will show?” Jenna gnawed on her thumbnail.
Lilly took Jenna’s hand and pulled it away from her mouth, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Faking a confident smile as she smoothed the wrinkles out of her gray wool trousers. “We did all we could to promote our class on short notice. I put up flyers everywhere. Even at the mega craft store in Appleton.”
Jenna giggled. “Don’t imagine those lasted long.”
Despite the nerves, Lilly was hopeful. “For some reason, I feel good about this. As if everything is about to turn around for us.”
“I hope you’re right. I need some good news.”
The pounding in the basement made Lilly cringe. “No progress with Ned?”
Jenna shook her head as she scooted folding chairs around a plastic rectangular table she’d set up earlier. “He talks to me all stiff and formal, as if we barely know each other. And he only calls when he wants to talk about Will.”
“At least you’re on speaking terms.” She hit the start button on the coffeepot. As it hissed and gurgled, Ann arrived.
Lilly hurried over to greet her. “Thanks so much for coming.”
“It’s nice to be back here,” Ann said with tears in her eyes. “I’m pleased you girls decided to take over the shop. Talitha would be proud.”
Lilly reached out to take Ann’s box of supplies and carry it for her. “I guess that’ll depend on how successful we are in turning around the business.”
“Hi, Miss Ann,” Jenna called from the corner gathering area. “We’re meeting over here.”
“I heard about their separation,” Ann whispered. “I’m praying God will show them the way.”
Lilly didn’t know how to respond, so she nodded and then hauled the box to the corner of the shop. As she set it down, a loud bang sounded downstairs. Then the incessant pounding began once again.
“Oh, it sounds like my grandson is at work.” Ann’s eyes sparkled as if ecstatic that Daniel had been banging away all day with a hammer, startling everyone.
Lilly had hoped he’d be done before class started.
The front door opened again and Lilly greeted the customer.
“I’m here for the class,” said the woman, probably in her late fifties, with perfectly styled, highlighted blond hair, wearing what looked like a hand-knit jacket. Very nicely done—obviously not a beginner. “I’ve been looking for a new group and saw your ad.” She smiled and pulled a canvas bag higher on her shoulder.
“I’m Lilly Barnes, one of the new owners.” She shook the woman’s hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Vera.”
Lilly introduced Vera to Jenna and Ann, and then offered her a cup of coffee as they gathered around the table.
When Vera pulled out a huge project—a gorgeous gray shawl in a complicated pattern on a circular needle, Lilly’s face burned. She, part owner of the shop, would have to reveal her measly beginner scarf. And the other owner would have to admit she didn’t knit or crochet at all. They weren’t exactly representing their business well.
“That’s beautiful,” Lilly said.
“Thanks. I’d set it aside for a while to work on a blanket for a friend’s baby. But I’m finally back at it. I love working with a group.” She glanced around the room, no doubt looking for the rest of the group.
“We’re glad you’re here. This is the first class since my sister and I took over the shop. I’m not sure if anyone else is coming today.” Or ever.
“I doubt I can teach you anything,” Ann said as she pulled out her own project, a baby hat in the softest of pale pink yarns. “But it’ll be fun to watch you work.”
Vera’s hands began to move in smooth, quick motions. She barely looked at the needles as she flew through the stitches. “I don’t really need the class. I’m just thankful for the opportunity for company.”
Which, Lilly recognized, validated her desire to eventually open the basement for building a knitting community.
Daniel gave a couple good whacks of his hammer to confirm her realization.
“No need to pay tuition for the class,” Lilly said, her heart sinking. She slid a sign-up form across the table. “You can fill out this registration card before you leave so we can contact you for special events. Feel free to hang out here anytime you like.”
“Oh, no. I want to officially sign up. If all goes well, I plan to invite some friends. It’ll be fun to have weekly classes together.”
If all goes well? Meaning she’d invite only if she liked the place? Two sharp raps on the wall made Lilly jump.
Vera flinched as she wrote down her information. “Although, not if it’s noisy and hard on my nerves. The last yarn shop we frequented added a coffee shop. The patrons got too loud.”
Lilly glanced at her ancient coffeepot and figured they wouldn’t be drawing a noisy crowd.
The front door opened again, ringing the little bell she’d placed on it. A split second later, Will woke from his nap behind the counter and wailed.
From the look on Vera’s face, her nerves were mightily jangled.
Like Lilly’s.
“Helloooo,” called an elderly woman from the front of the store.
After reassuring Vera that Will would settle down soon, and that the construction was temporary, she excused herself to attend to the customer, who’d come for the class.
“I’ve always wanted to knit,” the woman named Flo said in a loud, boisterous voice, her shining blue eyes and grin making for a jovial expression. “I’ve taken a couple classes but never quite caught on. Maybe you’ll be the one who’ll finally get it through my thick skull.” She gave a hearty laugh, and Lilly couldn’t help but like her.
They would have a lot of fun with Flo. If she didn’t get on Vera’s tender nerves.
Once Flo registered and paid, she picked out a skein of yarn and pair of needles. They gathered around the table, and Ann began teaching Flo how to cast on.
The next hour flew by, punctuated by banging from downstairs and Flo’s guffaws whenever she dropped a stitch. Vera pled a headache and left a bit early. Lilly wouldn’t be surprised if she never came back.
When the class was over, Flo gathered her new supplies. “I enjoyed it, ladies. I look forward to next week.”
They had two class members, one with her own supplies and no need to buy more anytime soon. Disappointment churned in Lilly’s belly. Looked as if her dream of growing business through a thriving community might not materialize anytime soon...if ever.
A good thing they’d decided to rent the basement.
“Well, I know you’re probably disappointed in the turnout,” Ann said as she gathered her things and put them back in the box. “But I think that went well. It’ll probably grow, especially as they tell their friends.”
“Do you think so? Vera wasn’t too pleased about the noise.”
Ann waved away the worry. “I can tell she’ll always find something to gripe about. Don’t fret about her.”
Still, the lukewarm response to the class worried Lilly.
“So how have you and Daniel been getting along?” Ann asked, that same twinkle in her eyes as if she knew some kind of insider information on her grandson.
“I haven’t seen him much since Monday. He’s been using the back door, working day in and day out.”
Ann patted Lilly’s cheek
. “You two should grab some dinner tonight. Tell him I won’t be cooking. I have a meeting to attend.”
“Okay.” She would tell him about Ann’s meeting. But she wouldn’t be having dinner with him.
By the time Ann left and Jenna had headed home with Will, Lilly was dying to see the results of all that pounding around the basement walls and ceiling.
A whack of the hammer thumped right below Lilly’s feet, making her jump. She headed down the stairs to the basement. “Your grandmother said to tell you she’s not cooking tonight. And that’s about all that racket I can take,” she hollered. She laughed as she rounded the corner to where Daniel stood on a ladder.
His face lit up like his grandmother’s. “Oh, hi, Lilly. How’d the new class go?”
“Not well.”
He climbed down the ladder and set aside his hammer. “I’m sorry. What happened?” His stance was wide and strong. When he crossed his arms, it highlighted his bulging biceps, making her heart skitter and her breathing grow shallow.
“Only two showed...and, uh...” She focused her eyes upward onto his face. His concern touched her, made her long to have someone to share burdens with, to lean on.
Reality check. This man was a pastor. He had that concerned expression down to an art. “And one of the attendees startled every time you banged your hammer. Which was about six thousand times.”
He tried to bite his lip, but his gorgeous, crooked smile won out. Then he laughed.
His laughter was as appealing as his big strong shoulders. Both proved powerful and drew her toward him. “Don’t laugh.” She glanced up at him, then let her eyes flutter downward, realizing even as she did it, that she was flirting, couldn’t help herself.
“Since one of the women has delicate nerves,” she added, “you may have messed up my chances for a successful class, you know.”
“You don’t say.” He leaned in. She wasn’t the only one flirting.
The connection they’d shared since day one swirled in the air around them. She imagined two vines reaching toward each other, mingling, twining around each other.
Georgia Sweethearts Page 6
