But was that enough? Her stomach soured with dread. Not hardly. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t push them away. She’d just have to find a way to keep it friendly. Even limited interaction was better than none, wasn’t it?
She tugged at the corner of each eye with her knuckle, wiping away the moisture that had popped up, and was startled by a soft knock on the metal door still propped open behind her.
“Just me,” Logan said so softly, it sounded like the wind. After all this thinking about him, Frankie wondered if she was hearing things in her head as well. The one person who could melt her middle or curl her toes or put goose bumps over her whole body. “Thought I’d save you the trip by picking up the labels myself.”
Unable to meet his eyes, Frankie walked to the counter and pulled out the manila folder and extended it to him with a shaking hand. This ambush wasn’t fair. She hadn’t had time to prepare herself. “Take a peek and tell me what you think.”
He opened the folder to reveal oval stickers that said Harper’s Bumbleberry on one line, with Huckleberry-Blackberry-Raspberry Jam in a smaller font underneath. Around the edges of the sticker were Frank & Signs Antiques and Upcycles and the address in case someone wanted to find them again.
“Are you okay with them?”
“Harper’s going to love them.” He stepped closer and engulfed Frankie in an unexpected hug, but just as quickly stepped back. Yes, that was how it was going to be between them.
Even though he’d stepped back, his eyes searched her face, maybe trying to figure out if she was okay with this rejection, to see if they were still friends. She didn’t want to lose his friendship either, but her heart ached at the void that wouldn’t be filled.
“They should be easy enough to apply. Oh, and I almost forgot.” Frankie turned and rifled through a box of ribbons and thread, some buttons sliding around as she moved the sundry sewing supplies until she came up with a spool of dark plum organza ribbon and handed it to him. “If you could tie some of this around each jar, that would add a nice touch.”
Recalling the conversation about him doing Harper’s hair, Frankie had her doubts if Logan could tie a decent bow, but she’d let them figure it out.
Logan’s eyes still searched her as if he was trying to communicate something, but she had no idea what without words. He stepped closer, his arm touching hers, their breath mingling. “I wanted to talk to you about Saturday night. To explain why—”
She did not want to know why she’d been beaten out by the graceful and sophisticated Tess. And it was her own stupid fault for setting them up in the first place. “You don’t need to explain, Logan. I completely understand.” Frankie stepped back and found herself straightening the top of the counter, though there wasn’t anything on top that wasn’t already in its correct place.
At Logan’s slow exhale, Frankie held her tongue, letting him decide how to proceed. “I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said, resigned.
She couldn’t look up at him again. “Seven o’clock.”
“Seven o’clock,” he repeated, and he walked out the back door.
Her heart followed him out the door. Every time she saw him made it harder for her to “just be friends.”
With the day’s interruptions and the ensuing emotional torrent from each, all Frankie wanted to do was get home for a solitary dinner and an early bedtime. Her final task was to decide on a piece for the hinged secretary, and she’d be free to leave. Frankie ran a hand over its slick surface, blocking her own reflection with her hand. There was something hauntingly romantic about the piece, and since refinishing it, her reluctance to sell it had only increased. It would easily fetch a large sum, and rearrange as she might, she couldn’t find room for it in her tiny cottage, but neither of those excuses would ease the pain of letting it go.
She opened the compartments one by one. It had been one of the first projects she and Harper had worked on together, and the hours sanding, tacking, staining, and sealing were hours Frankie hoped she would never forget.
Harper, Logan, Darren.
The names swirled through her head until a thought occurred to her as suddenly and painfully as a cartoon anvil to the head. How would Logan react when he learned about Darren and the DUI? With the loss of Christiana at the hands of someone who had made the very same choices, would Logan be able to forgive this stranger who was so important to her? One more reason the two of them wouldn’t be together. But what about tomorrow? With Darren around, would Logan trust Frankie with Harper’s safety? How soon would he find out?
Her head and heart pounded in worry and confusion. Even if it was early, it was definitely time for the book and bath distraction she’d planned. Frankie locked the back door, turned off the lights, and secured the front door behind her. The next few days would be long and taxing, and she needed to be at the top of her game. Guy trouble and family dynamics needed to take a back seat to business right now.
Chapter 15
Opening day for the Cobble Creek Art Festival couldn’t have been more perfect, weather wise, at least. Officially the end of September, the day’s high temperature would rest smack-dab between the hot summer days behind them and the bitter cold ahead. The vinyl banner stretched across Main Street, originally printed for a previous year, had dates duct-taped over and repainted with the correct numbers for this weekend. While the homemade look added to the small-town charm, if he were on the planning committee, Logan would opt for a new banner for the following year—something generic enough to use annually, like “last weekend in September.”
Aside from that, everything else promised a grand showing. Every Main Street business bustled to fill their tables in the street, leaving the sidewalks and the center of the road open for foot traffic.
While he hadn’t been inclined to do it, Lucy had talked Logan into having a table with games and free screenings, and he was glad she’d prevailed, or he would have been the only Scrooge in town.
Under the awning next to him, Frankie had her things well in order by the time he and Harper got there a few minutes before seven. The table for the cash register and jam had been placed and arranged, and Frankie and her guy friend had already arranged several pieces of furniture and many of her repurposed accessories.
“If I bring out the box of jam, do you think you could set it up with Frankie?” Logan asked Harper, anxious to be out of Frankie’s sight that morning. He had no desire to meet this mystery man of hers, especially after things had been suddenly so awkward between them yesterday.
It made no sense. How had they gone from almost kissing on Saturday to her coldness days later? When he’d received her text, it presented the perfect excuse to pop in. He’d been longing to see her without Harper around, and Frankie had practically invited him. But when he’d stepped into the alley, he’d seen her embracing the man she was with today. Logan might have disregarded it as friendship, if it hadn’t been for the long, searching looks that ended with the man tenderly leaning his head on hers.
Frankie owed him an explanation, and Logan would demand one, but not yet. He wasn’t ready.
Frankie had lived in Cobble Creek her entire life. Perhaps the man was a childhood friend coming back into town for the festival. One with designs on her. Ironic, considering that was the exact position he found himself in. Frustration welled over him. He had to fix this, but it started with finding out who the man was.
Logan brought out the cardboard box of jam for Harper as promised, but then headed to the table his assistant was arranging a few yards away. “Lucy, I’ve got a nosy question, and you can’t tell anyone I asked.”
“O-kay?” The quirk of her eyebrow showed her interest in his question.
“Who’s that with Frankie?” He shoved his shaky hands into his pockets in an effort to appear casual. Smooth.
“Ah …” Lucy chuckled. “Do I detect a little jealousy?”
She was having way too much fun baiting him, but he figured he deserved it. He waited for her response.
> “Fine.” She sighed. “It’s her younger brother, Darren.”
“Brother?” Now he felt like an idiot, getting jealous over a sibling. “I wonder why she never mentioned him before.” That must have been what she’d been holding back from him the other night. Frankie had told him all about her father and their close relationship. She’d even opened up to him about losing her mother, but she’d never mentioned siblings.
“Yeah, there’s a reason for that.” She paused as if trying to decide how much to tell. “He’s been gone for …” Lucy lifted her eyes to the sky as she calculated in her head. “I don’t know, about seven years, maybe?” She shrugged. “I can’t remember exactly, but I do remember that when he left, it was as powerful and destructive as her own personal tsunami coming through.” Lucy bestowed a look of pity on Frankie across the way. “He’d been arrested for DUI or something …”
Logan felt like he’d been sucker-punched in the stomach. And to think he’d been following Lucy’s example, feeling sorry for Frankie, until he realized she’d held this tidbit of her personal family history from him on purpose. “Is this the first time he’s been back, then?”
“I think so.” Lucy’s smile was huge as she watched brother and sister carry out the beautiful refinished desk. “It’s so good to see them happy together again. I don’t know how I’d survive if I lost Brooke.”
After that revelation from Lucy, rather than from Frankie where it ought to have originated, Logan was fine ignoring the woman who had once caused his heartbeat to race. He was not going to watch her all day, distracting him from genuinely interacting with community members who stopped by his booth. It was only for his daughter’s sake that he noticed Frankie coaxing Harper to go from observing jam sales to eventually taking over the sales pitches. He would not allow himself to watch how the sunlight glinted off of Frankie’s dark locks as she patiently taught Harper to count back money to customers and hand out business cards. There wasn’t anything cuter than his ten-year-old businesswoman in the making, not even the gorgeous woman who mentored her through it.
Logan’s booth held a steady stream of patrons as well. He had more fun than he expected getting to know the town’s residents, and this was only Friday. If it was this busy today, he wondered what it would be like on Saturday when more people were off work. Eventually, however, there was a slight lull.
“You ought to take a break while you can, Dr. Wells. I’ve got it. Get something to eat, go for a walk.” Lucy sipped on a frozen lemonade that had been tempting him from the moment she brought it back to the booth. “I’m sure Brooke would watch Frank & Signs if you were to take Harper … or Frankie. I don’t think she’s had a break either.”
The woman was anything but subtle. Lucy had probably noticed his preoccupation with that certain someone.
Logan thanked her and started away from Frank & Signs, but guilt got the better of him. He ought to at least get his daughter some lunch. Turning back would be too obvious. Better to pass it off as casual text.
To Frankie: Getting lunch. You and Harper want anything?
He sat on a bench kitty-corner from Frank & Signs and far enough off he hoped she wouldn’t notice him looking over. He smiled as he watched Frankie pull her phone from her pocket, read the text, and chat with her young helper. He ought to feel like a stalker watching but couldn’t make himself feel guilty about it. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. When she started texting back, he looked at his screen expectantly, watching the dots jump up and down as she wrote.
Harper doesn’t want to leave. Brooke says she’ll stay with her. Mind if I come?
By the time he finishing reading the text, she was halfway to him. I guess not, he muttered to himself. If nothing else, he could tell her off for keeping him in the dark about Darren.
“I hope you don’t mind the company.” Frankie stuck a hand out, and when he grabbed it, she pulled him from the seat. It was ridiculous how hesitant he was to stand; it felt way too good to sit after being on his feet all morning.
“What do you think of my junk on the sidewalk now?” Frankie teased, as bubbly as ever. “Is it in your way?”
“Junk? What jerk would ever call it that?” Had he somehow misread her coldness the day before? The roller coaster of emotions with this woman was difficult to predict, yet his own ever-changing emotions had to be at least partly to blame.
It bothered him that she was going to act like nothing had happened between them Saturday, that she hadn’t held back the subject of her brother and his DUI when she knew the pain it was going to cause him when he found out, that she had pushed him away yesterday with no explanation. Did their friendship mean nothing to her? He made his way toward the food trucks, Frankie following. The slim chance that lack of food contributed to his frustration had him walking quickly, scanning over the top of the crowd to see what was ahead.
“Did Harper …” He turned so Frankie could hear him over the festival cacophony and discovered that Frankie was more than a couple steps away. He stopped and waited for her to catch up. “Did Harper say what she’d like to eat?” He grabbed Frankie’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated and started winding through the crowd again.
“Not really.” Frankie stopped, and in an instant their arms grew taut, their connection almost broken. “Are you angry with me?”
He let his breath out in a huff and had to admit, to himself at least, that he was. “Just in a hurry. Frozen lemonade?” He needed to get things off his chest, and soon, but amid a bustling crowd wasn’t the place.
“I’d like one, yes.”
Even in his frustration, Logan could appreciate how the woman held her ground. She didn’t turn into an emotional puddle or cower away from him, but she didn’t get ticked off either. He slowed his pace, pleased she hadn’t dropped his hand, and he finally located the short line for frozen lemonades. After purchasing two, he handed her one, feeling contrite at his outburst. “I’m sorry. Can we go somewhere to talk?”
“I’d like that.” This time she led, the two of them walking slower, sipping their frosty treats side by side through the crowds toward the end of Main Street. They’d walked past several booths in silence when Logan was compelled to stop.
“Do you have a second?” Logan hated asking with the pressure of their unspoken words gnawing at his insides, but he didn’t want to pass by the Country Quilt Inn’s booth. Logan had thoroughly enjoyed his stay at the B&B and wanted to give back to the friendly hostess. His intent was to bid on one of the quilts they were auctioning off for charity, but he was overwhelmed with the plethora of choice—the combination of colors, the intricate patterns. “Which quilt do you like best?” he asked Frankie.
She gave him a confused glare as if suspecting him of ulterior motives, but answered anyway. “I don’t think you could go wrong with any of them. I can’t believe the creativity, the time invested. They’re all works of art.”
He chose a fairly simple design of multiple sizes of squares in blues and greens, their shading subtle and calming. After scrawling a quick bid and waving to Jessie, they were on their way again, Logan’s frustration building like a polar cap on his heart. They’d reached the end and were on their way back toward their own booths when Frankie took a side street to the small city park away from the festival.
“I’m sorry we missed you this morning,” Frankie said. “I was going to introduce you to my brother, Darren.” She filled the silence with the one conversation that went right to the core of his anger with her.
It was as good a segue as any. He took a sip of his lemonade to calm him, but then barreled forward. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother? You told me all about your father, even losing your mother. I told you all about Christina. It seems to me your experience with Darren would have followed naturally.”
Her face flushed, and he regretted stating it so boldly. He followed her into the empty gazebo.
“Then you also heard about his DUI.” She sat on one of the gazebo benches with a faraway
look in her eyes. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you. I haven’t seen Darren in years. How was I supposed to—” She stopped herself, and he was glad she wasn’t going to give him an excuse that wouldn’t assuage his pain. “I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you?” He swallowed hard. This was the part he had been dreading. Of course, Frankie would have some logical explanation. Of course, he should be man enough to forgive. “You should have trusted me not to hold it against you.”
Frankie squirmed under the weight of his comment. “I knew it would make things awkward between us. How could it not?”
It would have, perhaps, but he would have tried his hardest to shake it off. “You’re not responsible for your brother’s actions.” Thinking about the shock of Christina’s death left him bowled over in a wave of vertigo. “It was Darren who drove intoxicated, not you. And it was another driver, not Darren, who took Harper’s mother from her.”
The words that tumbled out left him even more in shock. Christina had first and foremost been his wife, the love of his life. At least she had been then, but with time passing, he felt the loss more acutely for Harper. When had his own heart healed?
A tear slipped down Frankie’s cheek. “And then I was afraid Darren’s DUI would give Kathy and James more fodder for the custody case if they knew Harper was spending so much time with me—and I didn’t want to lose her.”
Though Darren’s case had nothing to do with Christina, Frankie was right. If nothing else, it would infuriate the McAfees enough to start a serious suit. Perhaps it wasn’t fair for him to hold this against her, yet he was helpless to excuse it. “Thank you for spending so much of your time with Harper these last few weeks. It’s been a great transition for her into Cobble Creek, but with play rehearsals, she’ll be spending a lot of time with Sarah Jane …”
The Inventive Bride Page 12
