by Jill Gregory
She didn’t give a care about either of them.
Or about that letter at the bottom of her dresser drawer. It had been there for the past five years now, and she hadn’t been tempted to open the seal even once.
All it would do was stir up the hurt all over again.
Still, something made her ease open the cabin door and limp out onto the porch with the aid of the cane. She brushed a hand over the wicker basket her great-niece had left perched on the old chair.
Slowly tears filled her eyes.
She shouldn’t have ever come back here. She’d left Lonesome Way once—way back when it all happened—and she should have just stayed away.
There was no point in thinking about any of it now. Lifting the basket in one hand, she hobbled back inside. She set the basket on the small kitchen table and limped back out for the pie.
Against her will, she had to admit it was a lovely pie. A bright circle of berries and golden crust, resting in a white box with red printing that said A BUN IN THE OVEN on the top and the side. A Bun in the Oven. That pretty little bakery everyone in Lonesome Way—even Abner—jabbered about all the time.
She’d never stepped inside. Too many people. Some she knew from way back when, but she considered all of them strangers. Strangers who stared at her…
These days she usually drove all the way to Livingston for her groceries and quilt supplies and whatnot so she wouldn’t have to see a soul in Lonesome Way.
The pie did look wonderful, though. And the chicken smelled like heaven, if heaven smelled like lemon and garlic and oregano.
She hadn’t eaten a bite since last night’s supper, before she took that spill.
But the cat was there, a small shadow at her door.
“Here, I’ve got your food,” she muttered, and she left the pie and the chicken on the table while she dug out the cat food bag. She rattled pellets into the bowl she kept on the corner of her old counter.
The cat shot to the base of the porch and stood stock-still, watching warily as she limped outside and set the food down near the top of the steps.
By the time she clumped back over the threshold, the orange tabby was up there, gobbling it down.
Winny saw there was still water left in the other bowl she put out for the creature. She didn’t know why she bothered.
Maybe, she realized as she sank down onto a kitchen chair and stared at that bright, fresh blueberry pie, it was because next to Abner Floyd, who never bothered her by speaking more than about a dozen words a year, that pesky cat was the closest thing she had to a friend.
A half hour later, she had polished off every bit of the chicken, washed and dried her plate, and sat at the kitchen table savoring a slice of pie with a hot cup of tea.
Then, feeling better for no reason she could explain, she hobbled into her bedroom, set down the blasted cane, and sank down at her sewing machine with the Jubilee quilt she’d begun the week before. She pulled the colorful squares of calico onto her lap and, for the first time since her fall, experienced a small sense of peace. Blocking out the past, the memories, and the rest of the world, she set to work.
Chapter Eight
One week later Mia combed through racks of jeans and shorts at Top to Toe on Main Street as Brittany scanned the shelves piled with folded tank tops and T’s.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Mia, I promise I’ll pay you back from my next two paychecks,” Britt murmured, examining a turquoise tee with a paisley heart stitched on the center. Her sunglasses were perched on top of her head. “This one’s cute, isn’t it?”
Setting down the khaki shorts she’d picked up, Mia glanced at her niece. “Wouldn’t it be easier to drive home and just pack up some more of your clothes? I don’t mind going with you. We could make a day of it. Have lunch on the deck of that nice restaurant we all went to for your birthday last year and—”
“I’m not going all the way back to Butte for some clothes.” Brittany’s voice rang through the store and she quickly lowered her tone as several other customers and Erma Wilkins, the owner, turned to stare. “I’m s-sorry.” She bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to sound rude. But we’d just be wasting gas to drive to Butte, wouldn’t we? Besides, I only need a few more things to get through the summer.”
Flushing a little, she hurried to the sales counter and deposited a pink V-necked top and a pair of white shorts, as well as the turquoise tee, a purple tank, and a couple of colorful wispy thongs and bras.
“I have my jeans and the top I wore yesterday. I’ll do my laundry every few days. It’s no big deal.”
What teenaged girl doesn’t want her entire wardrobe of clothes at her disposal? Mia wondered, trying to study Britt’s face, but the sixteen-year-old whirled away from her and snagged another tank top, a skimpy white one.
“Brittany…,” Mia began in a low tone, “come on. There’s some reason you don’t want to—”
“Please, Aunt Mia.” Brittany’s suddenly pleading expression tore at Mia’s heart. “I need to get back to the bakery really soon. There’s only five minutes left on my lunch break. You don’t want to make Aunt Sophie sorry she hired me, do you?”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned toward Erma, who was arranging some new tops in the window display. “We’re ready now, can you help us, please?”
“Well, to be sure, I can.” Erma bustled over, beaming, and began ringing up the clothes.
“A little birdie told me you’re staying for the whole summer, young lady.” Carefully folding all of the merchandise, the store owner began stuffing each item into a large bag. She’d opened Top to Toe the year before Samantha had entered middle school and she knew every soul in town as well as all of their tastes and sizes. “Isn’t that nice for you, having such lovely young company?” She flashed Mia a smile as she worked.
“And not just any company.” Mia handed over her credit card. “My favorite niece.”
“The spitting image of her mother, too—and that’s a compliment, young lady,” Erma told Brittany. “I heard your mom’s going on her third honeymoon. All the way to Corfu, imagine that. Well, you know what they say. The third time’s the charm.”
“I thought they said that about the second time.” Britt took the bag the older woman handed her.
“No, it’s the third.” Erma flashed a grin as she returned Mia’s credit card. “But who’s counting? Now, what about you, honey?” She shifted her hawkish gaze to Mia, who was just turning toward the door. “I heard Travis Tanner’s back in town.”
Of course you did. Erma wasn’t the first person to mention Travis’s return to her—she must be at least the seventh or eighth. Lonesome Way’s gossip hotline would have no trouble holding its own against TMZ.
“He always was a mighty handsome young man. But then, you’d know that better than I would. If I were a younger woman…” She winked at Brittany, then turned back to Mia. “Now, I know it was a long time ago, and far be it from me to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but everyone always said you two were the perfect coup—”
“I’m afraid we have to hurry, Erma, or Brittany’s going to be late for work.” With a wave and a smile, Mia made a beeline for the door and escaped onto Main Street before Erma could finish the sentence.
It was a warm, brilliant afternoon, and the sun glinted in a blinding dazzle off the long row of storefront windows. Behind her, Brittany slid her sunglasses down across the bridge of her nose.
A dozen or so people strolled along Main, enjoying the bright flowers planted in trim window boxes along the storefronts, the view of the park, the peaceful, picturesque atmosphere of the town set in the shadow of the mountains. A woman and two little boys about eight and five years old were sitting on the wooden bench outside of Benson’s Drugstore, licking ice cream cones. A gray-haired ranch hand in a plaid shirt and faded jeans whistled as he loaded grain into the back of a pickup outside Tobe’s Mercantile. Inside the Cuttin’ Loose hair salon, Hannah Berg, owner of the day care center, was getting a manicur
e, while Martha Davies snipped away at her friend Dorothy Winston’s squirrel gray hair.
“Travis Tanner, hm?” Britt grinned at her as they walked across the street. “He’s your old boyfriend? Is he related to Aunt Sophie?”
“Yes, her husband’s brother. And once upon a time, way back in the Stone Age, he was my boyfriend. That’s the problem with small towns, Britt; people don’t ever forget anything about your life—ever.” Pausing, Mia held out a hand for the Top to Toe bag. “I’ll take this home for you. You’d better hustle back to the bakery or you’ll be late for the midafternoon rush.”
“I know—it got crazy in there yesterday. Sophie’s grandmother was the only one who stayed calm when that tour bus stopped in front on its way to the Half Moon Campground.” She shook her head. “We sold out of cinnamon buns and chocolate chunk cookies in ten minutes flat.” Britt thrust the shopping bag into Mia’s hand and started to turn away, then impulsively turned back and threw her arms around her aunt’s neck. “Thanks for the clothes, Aunt Mia,” she whispered. She squeezed tightly for a moment, as if reluctant to let go. “I’ll pay you back. Every single penny. For everything. I promise.”
A little worried at the thick emotion in her niece’s voice, Mia watched her race off toward A Bun in the Oven. Just as Britt was about to open the bakery’s door, it opened from the inside and a lanky, red-haired boy of about seventeen or eighteen appeared, to let her in. He grinned and said something to her that made her laugh.
Mia recognized him. Seth Dalton—one of Sophie’s most reliable teenaged employees. He’d rung up Mia’s order last month when it was her turn to bring scones to the Bits and Pieces meeting.
As she studied him, Seth glanced over and saw her.
“Hey, Miz Quinn. Guess what! I got an A on my English lit final this semester,” he called out.
“That’s great, Seth. I always knew you had it in you.”
“Well, my mom says it’s all because of you. You made me read books in fifth grade and I got hooked.”
“Tell your mom hello from me, will you?” she called.
“You bet!”
He turned back to Britt and Mia saw her niece reach up and brush his hair back from his eyes as they lingered, talking, in the doorway. Seth had been a challenging student in her English class. He’d clowned around most days, and she’d had to send him to the principal’s office at least once a week for talking out of turn during class. But he’d always been unfailingly polite and irresistibly likable, despite waiting until the last minute to do all of his assignments. He’d turned them in just under the bell and managed to pull an A every single time.
Seth was smart, and he’d grown into quite a responsible young man.
At least it looks like Britt has made a friend, Mia thought with a tug of relief.
Her niece’s mood had improved considerably over the past few days. Perhaps Seth was the reason. Sometimes when she didn’t realize Mia was looking at her, Mia still caught that glimpse of worry in Britt’s eyes, and that nervous hunch of her shoulders Mia had never seen before, but overall, most of the time Britt seemed happier, even cheerful.
She’s a teenager—it’s normal for her to be stressed now and then. Here she is with a new job, in a new town, trying to make new friends, while her mom is half a world away with a new husband.
But still…
Something had made Brittany want to spend the summer in Lonesome Way, miles from her home and her friends. And so far, Mia was no closer to finding out what that something might be.
Turning toward her car she noticed another boy—a young man actually, since he looked to be about twenty—also watching Britt. He was tall and burly, handsome in a tough kind of way, with short sandy hair, and he was standing outside of Ponderosa Earl’s Camping Outfitters at the far end of the block with a large bag of purchases, including, by the looks of it, a sleeping bag. But for a moment he stood stock-still, gazing toward the bakery—and Britt.
No surprise there, Mia thought, amused. Her niece was an extraordinarily pretty girl. It was only natural young men would take notice. She’d never seen this boy before and guessed he was a tourist passing through on his way to some campground or one of the national forests. As Seth grabbed Britt’s hand and pulled her inside and the bakery door swung closed, the young man started to turn away, then met Mia’s gaze, flashed her a friendly grin, and strode off in the opposite direction.
Mia forgot all about him as she heard a familiar voice call her name. Turning, she saw Lissie and Molly walking toward her from the park.
“Just the person I wanted to see.” Lissie looked as fresh and pretty as a scoop of sorbet, in a lemon yellow tee tucked into crisp khakis. “Molly, look who’s here—it’s Aunt Mia! Tell her where we’re going.”
Mia was already stooping down, holding her arms out to the little girl, and Molly rushed into them. “Badery!”
“Bakery,” Lissie corrected, but Mia laughed in delight and hugged the child.
“Are you going to eat a chocolate chip cookie?”
“Two cookie,” Molly said eagerly.
“One for now and one for tomorrow,” Lissie interjected firmly.
“Tomowwow.” The little girl nodded solemnly, then planted her chubby hands on Mia’s cheeks. “You cookie?”
“You eat one for me, okay?” Mia grinned, lightly tapped Molly’s nose with the tip of her finger, and stood. “What’s up?” she asked Lissie. “I heard Aiden’s all better.”
“He is. Sophie even got a solid night’s sleep the past two nights. So she’s ready to party. And after we pick up our cookies, Molly and I are headed to Benson’s for streamers, poster board, and markers.”
“You’re making an art project?” Mia glanced down at the little girl, who was studying Mia’s sandals and pink-polished toes intently. “Are you going to draw me a picture, angel?”
“Pixture for Daddy!”
“You forgot, didn’t you?” Lissie stared at her accusingly, shaking her head. “Tommy’s birthday party. Saturday night? At the Double Cross? Don’t even tell me you forgot!”
Mia’s eyes widened. She had forgotten. Completely. Lissie had told her about the party for her husband’s birthday weeks ago. But somehow she’d neglected to mark it in her calendar and what with Brittany turning up and Aunt Winny’s tumble down the steps and the Bits and Pieces meeting tonight—not to mention Travis showing up in town—it had totally slipped out of her brain.
“I confess. I’m a moron.” She held up a hand appeasingly.
“Mo-won,” Molly repeated, smiling up at her.
“That’s someone very silly.” Mia leaned down and smoothed the little girl’s curls back from her face. “I forgot about your daddy’s party.”
“You’re still coming, aren’t you?” Lissie had that determined gleam in her eyes that seemed to be a Tanner characteristic. All of her brothers had it and Lissie had inherited the identical gene.
“Big Billy told me I’m free to decorate the Double Cross all I want—and Ivy’s going to help us make Happy Birthday signs this afternoon.” Lissie’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about not coming because of Travis.”
“I couldn’t care less about seeing Travis,” Mia retorted.
For all the good it did. Lissie’s slender brows rose and her face was a study in skepticism.
“Will he even be there?” Mia blurted out a second later, despite being nearly certain of the answer. It was most likely the primary reason she’d blocked Tommy’s party from her mind.
“He claims he wouldn’t miss it.” Lissie scooped Molly up into her arms. “You’re not going to chicken out, are you?”
“Of course not. Unless you need a babysitter?”
“Nice try. Ivy’s babysitting Molly.”
Rafe’s daughter by his first marriage had just turned thirteen. She was levelheaded, a good student, and responsible. So there went that excuse.
“Sophie’s mom and Mr. Hartigan are babysitting Aiden and Grady,” Lissie added with a
smile. Sophie’s mother had married their former high school geometry teacher last year. “So please don’t even think about using that as an excuse.”
“I’ll be at the party, no fears.”
Her friend’s eyes suddenly softened with quick sympathy.
“There’s going to be a fairly big crowd. You probably won’t even run into him, much less have to talk to him.”
“I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you told me.” Like Sophie, Lissie had been there all those years ago when Travis had dumped her. She’d been furious with her brother.
But it was all ancient history now. Why didn’t anyone get that?
“The party’s going to be a blast. I promise. Only…”
“What?” Mia saw the slight frown in her friend’s eyes.
“There’s just one more thing I need to warn you about.” This time Lissie really did sound regretful. “Deanna Mueller cornered me at Tobe’s yesterday—she heard me talking to Sophie on my cell about the party and…she sort of invited herself. And Zeke.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Can you believe it? She just suddenly burst out with a promise to drop in and wish Tommy a happy birthday. There was nothing I could do.”
“It’s not a problem.” Mia bit her lip. “Don’t worry about it.”
Great. Her love life really did sound like a disaster when her friends worried about her coming to a party and having to encounter both her ex-boyfriend and her ex-fiancé and his pregnant wife. But she hoped that had more to do with Deanna Mueller than with her.
In high school, Deanna had run against Mia two years in a row for the office of class secretary. Deanna had always gone after what she wanted, no holds barred, and if she didn’t get it, she was known for complaining about how it wasn’t fair and she’d been wrongly cheated out of what should have been rightfully hers—all of which was vociferously relayed to anyone and everyone who would listen.
She hadn’t taken it well when she’d lost to Mia not once, but twice. So maybe when Mia broke up with Zeke last year and Deanna snagged him for herself, she could be excused for telling everyone in town who would listen that Zeke had dumped Mia for her.
