It had already started. She didn’t even bother looking around. She knew that voice; it was old Mr. Henry. He’d loved Jake like a son. But now he’d become as determined as the rest of the town that Hannah should move on with her life. Well, Mr. Henry needed to butt out and concentrate on chasing Agnes around the library.
“Do you wanna cup of coffee to go with that order of determination written all over your face or what?”
“That would be wonderful, Millie. Thank you very much.” Hannah purred a sigh of smug satisfaction as she beamed her slyest grin up into her best friend’s face.
“Where have you been all morning?”
Tracing her nails around the rim of the thick ceramic cup, Hannah tapped each one of her fingers in turn as she stared down into the dark, swirling brew. Millie would find out soon enough. The rich aroma of the coffee tickled her nose; her stomach growled in anticipation. She always got hungry after she’d solved a problem. Perhaps a slice of cheesecake would be good while she waited. “I’ve had a very enlightening morning.”
“Enlightening, huh?” Millie repeated as she pulled four plates of steaming food from the window between the kitchen and the bar and stacked them in a line down her arm. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” Bobbing her head so fast her short blond curls snapped in the air, Millie looked like her head bounced on a spring. Flitting like a hummingbird, she plopped the plates in front of their awaiting patrons and returned to her place behind the counter before Hannah swallowed her first sip of the scalding-hot coffee. “Okay. Now what do you mean by enlightening?”
Hannah held up a finger and shook her head as she glanced up at the oversized clock centered on the bright, red wall at the back of the room. “Not yet. I’m waiting for three more people to arrive and then we’re all going to have a nice little chat about my car and erroneous parking tickets.”
Millie turned and glanced at the great black and white clock, then frowned as one of the hands shifted. She caught her lip between her teeth and faced Hannah with a pained expression on her face. “What do you mean by a nice little chat about your car and parking tickets? What are you gonna do, Hannah?”
“You never could lie and I know you’re in on it too, Millie. You might as well ’fess up now and save yourself some embarrassment.”
“They made me do it! I didn’t have a choice!”
“Of all people! You know better than anyone, Millie. How could you do this to me?”
“Marty! Get out here and cover for me!” Millie jerked her head toward the swinging doors of the back storage room as she grabbed Hannah’s sleeve and yanked. “You come with me right now!”
All heads in the diner swiveled to follow the two young women as they stomped their way toward the back room.
As soon as they’d shoved their way through the doors, Millie turned Hannah loose and whirled on her with a shaking finger. “Hannah, you know it’s time you moved on. It’s been over four years since Jake died. You have got to get on with your life. You’re a young woman for heaven’s sake. You can’t just shut yourself down. It’s just not natural.”
“That is not your decision, Millie! That’s nobody’s decision but mine!” Hannah yanked her wrinkled sleeve and swallowed hard to keep from screaming. Her entire body trembled inside; she risked collapsing at any moment. It may have been four years since Jake’s loss had ripped out her heart, but her emotions still knotted in her throat.
How could Millie do this to her? She wasn’t about to let any of them see her cry! She clenched her fists and sucked in a deep shaking breath. She had to make Millie understand. “Are you the one lying in bed at night with the sound of him breathing beside you? Are you the one rolling over with his scent on the sheets, still feeling as though the bed’s warm from his body?” Hannah took a step toward Millie, backing her against a rack of unpacked canned goods. “Are you the one that still swears sometimes if you turn around just fast enough he might be there waiting to hold you? Can you swear you just heard the sound of his voice because he just whispered your name? Answer me, Millie. Can you?”
Millie edged away, hugging herself back against the rack. She stood there silent and stared at Hannah.
Hannah’s heart hurt like a raw open sore with no hope of healing. Millie should know better. She knew Hannah and Jake had been inseparable. They had all grown up together in Jasper Mills. Everyone had known Hannah and Jake would always be together. Now Jake had gone and Hannah’s plans had fallen apart. They had no right to tell her to move on.
“I have photographs. I know you, Tom, and Brodie moved my car today and I’d be willing to bet you’re the ones who’ve been moving it all along. This is over, Millie. It’s done! Matt’s a nice guy, but I’m not on the market. Fix him up with Lily over at the day care center. She’s cute, single, and wants an entire herd of kids.” Hannah yanked open the storeroom door, leaving Millie with her lower lip trembling. “I’ve had enough of everyone’s meddling,” she hissed over her shoulder. “And I hope everyone heard me.” Turning around, she swallowed a groan. “Oh, great.”
There stood Matt at the counter with his ticket pad in hand, a smug grin smeared across his face. Might as well get it over with and take them all out at once. “Sheriff Matt, I’d like to take the opportunity to give you something that I think will cover all of those parking tickets.” With a forced smile stretched across her face so tight her cheeks ached, Hannah fished into her pocket, her gaze locked with his.
Matt’s smile widened and he stood a bit taller, glancing around the diner. “So, you’ve finally decided to give me a few hours of your time and have dinner with me?”
Hannah shook her head as she tsk-tsked at Sheriff Matt. “Why, no, Sheriff Matt, I believe that would be unethical. Actually, I thought these photographs of possible tampering of personal property might be of some interest to you. There’s also one that looks like you might even know what’s going on. See? This one right here?”
The diner settled into a silence as quiet as a tomb. The usual clank of the dishes and silverware evaporated as though they’d consisted of steam. The murmur of voices also disappeared as though Hannah and Sheriff Mulroney stood in between the aisles of a deserted church instead of between the booths of the diner.
“They were just trying to get you to come around, Hannah. No one meant you any harm.”
Hannah lifted her chin and stood a little taller. She made a slow circuit and looked around the diner at all the eyes focused on her. She looked deep into the faces, read all the looks that waited to see what she planned to say. She’d known each and every one of these people all her life. She’d thought they’d realize by now how determined she was that they step back and give her more time to heal.
“I appreciate what all of you tried to do here with this little ploy. But you can’t do this for me. You’ve got to let me heal and move on in my own time. I can’t get over a lifetime of Jake in just four short years. Your little game has got to stop. It’s not funny anymore.” Then she turned back to Matt and tapped on his leather-bound ticket book with the packet of digital pictures. “No more hide and ticket with my car. We can be friends, but that’s it. If you keep writing me tickets, I’ll make sure your house and office is infested with every type of varmint I can find.”
“You can’t do that!”
Old Mr. Henry cleared his throat as he hobbled his way across the diner toward the cash register in the corner. “Don’t underestimate her, son. Everybody knows Hannah has an odd way with the critters. You should’ve seen her with that pack of skunks a few years ago. Nobody messed with Hannah that spring. And that was before Jake died.”
“It’s no worse than what you did with your little ticket charade. So, like I said, no more tickets. Do we have a deal?” Hannah stood at the door of the diner with one brow arched, waiting for Matt’s compliance.
Matt tossed his ticket book on the counter, then raised his hands in the air. “Fine! No more tickets!”
The sunlight filtered down through the cei
ling of leaves and danced in erratic spots across the ground. Birches, maples, and fifty-year-old oaks dotted this part of the mountain, along with cedar, dogwood, and pine. The hand-shaped leaves of the birch and maples waved and fluttered in the gentle breeze. The early-morning sunshine still held the kiss of spring as it wafted through the air. It was early enough in the summer that the humidity wasn’t high enough to stick the clothes to your body, the kind of warm sunny day where cats became boneless, draping their bodies along the rail of the porch for a lazy, sun-drenched snooze.
Hannah rocked to the rhythmic squeak of the battered porch glider, sipping her morning coffee. She loved the steady rickedy-rackedy thump of the rusty-hinged swing. It reminded her of Grandma and simpler days. They’d frittered away hours on that front porch swing making up stories about magical places.
She propped her bare feet on the waist-high rail of the weathered veranda, cradling the steaming cup against her chest. The broad covered porch ran the circumference of the house providing the perfect morning oasis. The third-generation home screamed for want of a few replaced boards and a fresh coat of paint, but she just couldn’t seem to find the time or the inclination. With a sigh, she flicked at a bubbled-up paint chip with her big toe. A ruby-throated hummingbird buzzed in from the cluster of cedars bunched at the corner of the house. The iridescent flash of green hovered a brief moment in front of her face, dipped closed enough for her to feel the brush of the wind from its whirring wings, then dashed to alight on the feeder hanging from the roof’s edge.
Watching the bird dip its needle-like beak into the trumpet-shaped feeder, Hannah inhaled a heavy sigh. Today, she would go to the cemetery. It was their anniversary. She and Jake would’ve been married six years today. If only. Hannah drew another deep breath and curled her feet beneath her. She hated the if-only game. It had eaten away at her heart and churned at her gut ever since Jake had died.
The wind lofted the faintest scent of sweetness across her face. She closed her eyes against the honey-sweet fragrance and forced down the knot of emotions swelling in her throat. That reminded her: she needed to gather an armload of honeysuckles. She couldn’t let their anniversary pass without covering Jake’s marker with their favorite flower. A bittersweet ache shuddered through her body with a hiccupping breath as she remembered the first time she and Jake had discovered the sweet-smelling vines. Hannah had just turned six years old and faithfully followed every step seven-year-old Jake took through the woods of their mountain.
Young Jake had sworn they followed the trail of the elusive Big Foot. He’d seen it on television the night before and he’d recognized the massive, old oak of the woods in one of the scenes right before the last commercial. Devoted Hannah had no doubt he must be right. After all, Jake knew everything. Didn’t he tell her that often enough?
They’d discovered the opening of a deserted cave hidden behind a tangled abundance of flowering honeysuckle vines. Much to the avid trackers’ disappointment, Big Foot escaped them, but the enticing, honey-laced aroma of the flowers caught their immediate attention. Inquisitive Jake discovered if he took the trumpet-shaped flower and pulled the stamen backward out through the stem, they could catch the sweet, sticky nectar on their tongues and rob the local hummingbirds of their syrupy treat. The children forgot Big Foot and spent the afternoon pillaging the tasty flowers.
Hannah swallowed hard again. The memories ached in her throat as she forced herself back to the present. Damn that stupid war, and damn Jake and his need to be everyone’s hero. He’d always needed the excitement of any kind of adventure more then he’d ever needed her. Hannah closed her mind against the darkest thoughts that often plagued her ever since she’d known Jake. What other adventure would’ve robbed her of Jake even if he’d survived that infernal war? It didn’t matter now. The hair-trigger bomb wired to that hospital jeep had sent him home to her and she’d laid him to rest on their mountain.
As the liquid met her lips, she realized her coffee had grown cold. Glancing down at her pajamas, she rose from the glider, tossed the bitter liquid over the railing, and padded her way across the porch. Time to get dressed and get the ATV loaded up. Hannah looked forward to the thirty-minute ride up the primitive trail to the gravesite. The peace of the forest would ease her mind. Plus, she needed to get back down the mountain in time to talk to Mrs. Newell’s third-grade class about the local raccoon population and the fact that no matter what the children happened to see on television, the animals did not make suitable pets, at least not for the average person.
A chittering noise at the edge of the woods grabbed her attention. Without even looking, she knew who it was and called over her shoulder as she headed toward the back door of the house. “I don’t have time today. If you want to meet me up at the gravesite, then go on ahead and I’ll see you there.” Closing the screen door, she glanced across the yard to make sure the animals had heard her. “Go on. Meet me at Jake’s marker. Today’s our anniversary, remember?” Three squirrels, a doe, and a very obese raccoon turned and headed back into the woods.
What a quaint small town, this place called Jasper Mills. Taggart rolled his shoulders as he ambled down the narrow strip of sidewalk running alongside the tree-lined lane. Gads, the next time he traversed across several continents he’d sift into a secluded wood; he didn’t care if he risked discovery. Hours wedged into a seat inside a plane bordered on unbearable torture. He didn’t care if the airline insisted the ticket stated first class. The blasted seats didn’t fit his arse.
“MacPherson Clinic,” Taggart mumbled, spotting a brilliant blue sign with white letters emblazoned on a white clapboard building. His heart sank when he noticed the blinds drawn in the wide, plate-glass window and a bright red closed sign leaned against the corner. ’Twas the middle of the day, the middle of the week, where the hell could the woman be? Shouldn’t she be at her place of business?
Taggart spun on his heel and scanned the street. He had no idea what the woman looked like. But if she came within a few feet of him, he’d home in on her like a bee to pollen. He reached out with his senses into the surrounding area and felt absolutely nothing. Hannah MacPherson wasn’t in town.
“Damn, damn, damn.” And then Taggart noticed the neat script written on the bottom portion of the closed sign. In case of emergency, go to the café and ask for Millie.
“The café and ask for Mille, eh?” Taggart turned and looked up and down the street. “I’d definitely call this an emergency.”
“Excuse me, young man?” A wisp of an old lady with shining blue hair squinted up at Taggart through her thick, silver-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of her nose. The glittering blue chain attached to the earpieces dangled down around her neck, swaying with every word she spoke. “Did you say something to me?”
Taggart adopted his most charming smile and bowed as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Would ye be so kind as to give me directions to the café? I’m from out of town and I’m afraid I’ve gotten a bit turned around.”
A hint of a pink blush spread to the elderly woman’s crinkled cheeks as she patted a lace hanky to her brightly, painted lips. “Why certainly, young man, it’s just across the way. Just cross the lane here and go down a block to your left. You’re not very far from it at all.”
With another gallant bow, Taggart gifted her with another blinding smile. “Ye are most kind, ma’am. I thank ye verra much.”
The woman tittered into her hanky as Taggart headed across the street.
He’d best keep his thoughts to himself. That kindly lady might not have been so helpful had she arrived a few moments sooner to find him cursing the air blue. Taggart smiled as he spotted the café. The first inhabitant of Jasper Mills reminded him a great deal of some of the gentle folk of Erastaed.
The jangle of the bell above the diner door sounded as the smells from the kitchen assaulted him. His stomach roared to attention as the scent of grilled hamburgers, fried potatoes, and sautéed onions reminded him that he hadn’t eate
n in quite a while. Perhaps he’d do more than just ask for Millie. After all, a man must eat. Glancing around the restaurant, he opted to sit at the counter for now, at least until he’d talked to this Millie.
“What’ll you have?” A perky blonde asked as she poured a glass of ice water and slid it in front of him.
“Would ye happen to be Millie?” Taggart asked, lacing his fingers around the cold, slick glass and rubbing his thumbs across the rim. He didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath or the way she narrowed her pale blue eyes.
“Why?”
“I need to reach Hannah MacPherson. It’s quite urgent and the sign at her clinic said to ask for Millie.” Taggart suppressed a smile. He read this transparent lass as easily as he would a child’s picture book. She stiffened even more, her hand curled into a fist on the edge of the counter when Taggart mentioned Hannah MacPherson’s name. What did she hide? Better yet, why was she so protective of his precious guardian?
Millie turned away, snatched a coffeepot from the warming plate, and held it aloft as she edged her way out from behind the counter. “I’m Millie, but today’s a very full day on Dr. MacPherson’s calendar. I’m not going to interrupt her unless you tell me what you want. Like the sign said, it’s got to be an absolute emergency. Do you have an injured animal or something?”
Taggart swirled the sweating glass of water in front him, smiling as he stared down at the rings of condensation swimming on the well-scrubbed counter. Millie guarded Hannah MacPherson as though she were the lass’s mother. Good. But he wasn’t the one Millie had to fear. He’d come prepared for just such a situation. Pulling a manila-bound packet from the inside pocket of his jacket, Taggart tossed it down the counter toward Millie. “Read this and I’m sure ye’ll understand why it’s of the utmost importance that I contact Ms. MacPherson right away. I’ve been trying to contact her for quite some time and as ye can see, the news is quite good.”
Eternity's Mark Page 2
