“Does your mom come to visit very often?”
“A few times a year, and I usually drive out to Albany three or four times to visit because it’s hard for my dad to get away from work very often. My brother and his family live just outside of town, but with my work schedule and his, we don’t get together often.”
Milo watched her talk about her family. It sounded like she was fiercely independent, yet missed them at the same time. “Do you ever wish that you lived closer to your parents?”
Britta shook her head. “Echo Ridge is my home. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am in the library and I love our little town.” She gazed out the window, and Milo followed her gaze to the darkened streets beyond. The streetlamp across from the café flickered, and he saw a few people strolling along, bundled up against the nip in the air.
“I agree. There’s something special about this place— like it’s filled with music.” Milo bit his lip. Why couldn’t he go two minutes without bringing up music? But Britta didn’t seem to mind. Tentatively, he reached across the table and covered her hand with his.
“I feel the same way. Like this place is from a romance novel with a perfect setting. The tight-knit community, the gorgeous landscapes, the old houses and hidden stories waiting to be found.” Britta paused, and Milo sensed that she was having the same inner conversation that he’d just had.
“The way you described Echo Ridge just now. It sounds like you were reading a book. I wish I could speak that way, get my point across so naturally.”
“Don’t be worried to talk about your music, Milo. I like hearing you talk because I can see how passionate you are, and talented. It’d be neat to hear you play sometime.”
Milo looked down at his hand near Britta’s and wished he were brave enough to invite her over, to play something for her tonight. He’d pushed her far enough for one day, though, and he wasn’t in the mood for another rejection. He lifted his eyes to hers and soaked in the moment.
She was beautiful, with her blond hair pulled back into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. He wondered what it would look like if she wore it in a more relaxed style. How long would the golden hair reach down her back? Milo had a sudden urge to find out. Britta kept all of herself neatly tucked inside, but tonight she’d taken a huge step forward and revealed a part of her that he hoped he could get to know better.
They finished their cocoa and Milo drove slowly back to the library so she could get her car, wishing again that he could extend the evening a bit longer. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”
“Thank you for finding my book.” Britta tapped the sack on her lap. “I’ll be in Marian’s good graces again.”
“Hopefully not yet,” Milo said. “You’ll need time to read it first.”
Britta smiled. “You’re right. Marian will have to wait just a few more days.”
“And I’ll be sure to tell my nieces and nephews that the Echo Ridge librarian personally picked this book out for them.” He held up the copy of the book by Kate DiCamillo, and Britta chuckled.
They laughed and teased for a few more minutes, and reluctantly Milo wished her good night. As he drove home, his cheeks ached from smiling and the happy buzzing in his chest increased until he laughed out loud.
When Britta had laughed that night, it had sounded different, like she’d stepped away from the library and didn’t have to worry about being shushed. It sounded like a song that Milo wanted to hear again. And her smile … He was sure if he could kiss those full lips, he’d hear the music that was trapped behind the remnants of Britta’s Berlin Wall.
WHEN BRITTA CAME HOME that evening, she took The Book Thief out of the plastic bag and held it in her hands, thinking about Milo. She couldn’t ignore the way her heart raced when Milo had held her hand, helped her from the car, or stared intently at her while they spoke. But she also couldn’t ignore the fact that Milo Geissler was German— so German that he was helping with the Oktoberfest at the Harvest Hurrah. She had enjoyed the evening more than she wanted to admit. Laughter, books, cocoa, warm conversation— it was enough to have her yearning to be with Milo again. That man had found a way into her heart, and now she didn’t know what to do with him.
Britta pushed the book back into the sack and set it on her coffee table. She’d promised Milo that she would read it, but she didn’t say when.
Thursday came no matter how much Britta dreaded it. Her tabby cat wound his way around her legs, purring. “Norman, I wish you could go to the board meeting for me.” She rubbed behind his ears, and Norman mewed. Whenever she thought of Armand’s allergic reaction to her cat, she cringed. “I wonder if Milo likes cats,” she said, but then shook her head. Every time she turned around, her thoughts were connecting with Milo, wondering what he would think of a song she heard on the radio or the books she’d just ordered for the library.
Britta resolved to stay focused and get through the day. She set up for the board meeting, pushing out every thought of Milo and creating more checklists of things that needed to be done before the Harvest Hurrah. Norman mewed, and Britta pursed her lips together. There was still plenty of work to do to raise the money needed for the library.
When Britta arrived at work and stared at the old building that housed so much of her life, the twenty-five-thousand-dollar price tag loomed before her. For a moment, Britta worried that she shouldn’t have set her sights so high. But when she walked through the cramped and overflowing children’s section, she straightened her back and resolved to do whatever was needed to reach her goals.
Marian met her in the children’s section a few minutes before the board meeting was scheduled to begin. “I still haven’t received your book. Are you making progress?”
For half a second, Britta was tempted to tell Marian she would bring it in tomorrow, but then she thought of Milo’s face and the promise she’d made. She smiled when she recalled how he had teased her and cajoled her into reading a book she’d privately banned from her list. Milo helped lighten up every situation. She missed him, and looked up, wishing for his easy smile and deep chuckle. The feeling surprised her and sent tingles up and down her arms. Was she falling for Milo?
Britta straightened and shook her head, refocusing on Marian and her clipboard. “Yes, I should have it to you by next week.”
“Good. Hopefully everyone comes through on their promises.” Marian’s finger trailed down the paper, and Britta leaned forward, trying to see the list. Marian pulled the clipboard next to her chest and with a nod, hurried around the stacks.
Britta stood for a rare moment and noticed her surroundings. The library was slow this early in the morning, but there was still a low hum of activity. The stained-glass window above the front doors cast shadows of colored light on the romance section. There had been a time when Britta was fresh out of college that she’d devoured book after book, reading love stories and secretly hoping for someone to sweep her off her feet. But then she’d started working, and everything had been purely practical since then. She stared at the row of paperback books with spines indicating lots of use, and thought about Milo. A feeling stirred inside her that wasn’t completely unpleasant before her practical side nudged it back into place. It was time to command the board meeting.
From the time Britta closed the door after the board meeting on Thursday until after closing hours on Saturday, she ran from one end of town to the other preparing for the Harvest Hurrah, which was now less than a week away. Milo stopped by the library while she was gone on Friday. He left a cinnamon roll from Fay’s Café on her desk and a message on her cell phone. Britta was surprised at how disappointed she was when she found out that she’d missed him, and at the same time thrilled by the little kindnesses that he continued to do for her. She found herself looking forward to the church potluck on Sunday.
On Saturday evening, Britta was almost late picking up Lila for the lacrosse game because she stopped to buy more lemon crèmes from The Candy Counter. She wasn’t sure what had gotten in
to her, but on a whim she’d bought a small bag for Milo. Maybe she’d give it to him tomorrow after the potluck.
When she dropped Lila off at the game, Britta caught sight of the lacrosse coach Chayton Liechty. She waved, and he smiled and nodded in her direction.
“Have a great time, Lila,” Britta said. “Oh, and here’s a treat from your favorite aunt.” She handed Lila the sack of lemon crèmes.
“Yummy! You are my favorite aunt. Thanks for bringing me.” Lila held the sack and gave Britta a one-armed hug. “You really should come to dinner next time Dad invites you.”
Britta swallowed and looked at her feet. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think. Just do it,” Lila said. “See you later.”
She hurried off toward the growing crowd of spectators. Britta noticed that she stopped and talked to Emma Turner for a moment. Emma was the mother of the lacrosse star, Mason— at least, that’s what Lila had told Britta when she asked her about the lacrosse team. Britta didn’t know the first thing about lacrosse, so after Lila was seated and chatting with friends, Britta hurried back to the parking lot and drove away.
She tried not to think about her brother, Ritter, or his wife Stacy, because it always gave her a stomachache. Not long after they were married, Stacy had noticed what the rest of the Kleins had missed— that Britta was purposely shunning her German heritage. When Stacy had accused Britta of being ungrateful and shallow, a wide river of acrid emotions flowed between them. It’d been two years since Britta had been to their house, even though they only lived twenty minutes outside of Echo Ridge. Britta had told herself that as long as she kept a good relationship with Lila, things would blow over in time. But her niece recognized the truth— Britta wasn’t trying to mend any fences.
Milo’s smiling face came to mind as he talked about his family and the get-togethers they had. Britta sighed. Maybe it was time to face her past and her future. As soon as things settled down in Echo Ridge, she’d make a visit to her brother’s house.
When she turned on to her street and saw Milo’s car in front of her house, her heart tried to leap out of her chest. She pushed the gas pedal, afraid that she was going to miss him again. With a screech, she pulled into her driveway and hopped out of her car. Milo was sitting on her front steps, a plastic grocery bag beside him.
“Oh, hi. I didn’t know you were going to come by. I took my niece to the lacrosse game.” Britta’s sentences tumbled out after each other.
Milo stood, an easy grin on his face. “I ran to the store and had a feeling that maybe I should grab a bag of rolls so you wouldn’t have to come to the potluck empty-handed.” He picked up the sack and held it out to her.
Britta smacked her forehead with her palm. “Oh my goodness. I can’t believe I completely forgot to plan something. That’s not like me.” And it really wasn’t. She had been thinking only of Milo. Milo was the potluck. Who needed food?
Milo chuckled. “True, but you’ve been incredibly busy. I tried to stop by the library again today and I called you, but I didn’t leave a message. I figured the best way to catch you was at home.”
“Thank you.” She stepped forward and took the sack from Milo. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. It really can’t be helped this time of year.” Britta wanted to hug Milo, but she was holding the sack of rolls, so she didn’t do something completely out of character. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Milo winked and followed her up the steps.
By the time Britta had reached her kitchen, she’d almost talked herself out of her impulsive behavior. She hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how to handle the situation.
“You’re tired,” Milo said. “Maybe I should let you put your feet up.”
And that’s why Britta decided to let Milo stay. He never pushed her even though it was obvious how much he wanted to spend time with her. Britta grabbed the teapot and started filling it at the kitchen sink. “I can put my feet up with you here, and I have an extra footstool so you can put your feet up too.”
“I promise I won’t stay too long.”
“What kind of tea would you like?” Britta grabbed a couple boxes and handed them to Milo. He picked out a peppermint tea, and she took a lavender chamomile and prepared it for her mug.
“Is there anything I can do to help you with the Harvest Hurrah?” Milo ripped open his packet and set the tea bag in his cup.
Britta sat at her kitchen table next to Milo. “You’re helping me right now. I need to relax, but sometimes it’s hard because there’s always something that needs done.”
“I can understand that. It takes a lot of work to keep up a house and work a full-time job.”
The teakettle whistled and Britta jumped up to grab it, thinking how nice it was to talk to someone who understood her feelings, her frustrations, and her needs.
As she and Milo sipped tea and talked about everything and nothing, Britta wondered again if her original principles about dating German men, and her first impressions of this German man, had been completely wrong.
MILO HAD LEFT AFTER HIS second cup of tea, and although it was early enough in the evening that Britta should have been well rested, she had trouble sleeping. Milo circled around every thought, like a song stuck in her head, but the song was pleasant and she didn’t want to hum a different tune. Sunday morning, Britta dressed carefully for church services in a cream-colored blouse and dark green skirt. She curled the ends of her hair before tucking them into a clip.
When she opened the door to greet Milo, he reached out his hand to help her down the steps. “You look like autumn.”
“Thank you,” Britta said. She breathed in the crisp, clean air with its undertones of dried maple leaves and the swirling scent of Milo on the tips of those leaves.
The church was packed when Milo and Britta arrived. He held her hand and guided her through the pews to an open spot at the end of a crowded bench. She sat down, and when Milo slid in next to her, his leg brushing hers, she was grateful that everyone in Echo Ridge loved potluck Sundays. His closeness was calming and exhilarating at the same time. Milo took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He leaned closer, his breath brushing against her neck as he whispered, “Thanks again for coming with me today.”
Britta turned to answer, and her nose nearly brushed Milo’s cheek. “I wouldn’t have missed it.” She squeezed his hand in return, and Britta wondered if he could feel her heart beating through her fingertips.
A couple of minutes before the service began, Chip from Chip’s Diner came in and squeezed between a couple of older women from the Ladies’ League. Seeing him jolted Britta from her thoughts. She leaned over to Milo and whispered, “I just remembered that I left the volunteer schedule for the Harvest Hurrah at work. I need it to send out reminders today. Will you help me remember to stop by there after to pick it up?”
“Sure.” Milo gave her hand another little squeeze. “I’ll extend this date as long as possible.” He winked, and a little thrill ran through Britta’s middle. Sitting next to Milo made it hard to concentrate on the service. He had a deep baritone voice that brought tears to her eyes when the congregation sang “Fairest Lord Jesus.” The fact that the hymn hailed from Germany was not lost on Britta. Memories of singing with her mother and father washed over her, and for once Britta didn’t feel like pushing them away.
When Milo put the hymnal back in place, he slid his arm around Britta’s shoulders and let his fingers trail along her upper arm. Britta relaxed against him, breathing in his closeness and strength. She focused on the message of thanksgiving and joy that Pastor Louis shared as he talked about the blessings of their community and this wonderful time of year. His words flooded over her, and Britta let all of her worries over the library drain out. With Milo next to her, his lips turned up in a half smile even while he concentrated on the sermon, Britta recognized that her life truly was blessed. She also recognized that she spent so much time running from one pi
ece of work to the next that she didn’t stop and enjoy her blessings. It was something she needed to remedy.
Milo felt her stare and turned his head, giving her another wink. Britta’s toes tingled, and she returned his smile. Today she would just be with Milo. She swallowed her fears and leaned closer to the handsome man beside her.
After the sermon, everyone worked together to set up the potluck food on long tables. Milo and Britta stood in line next to Jennifer Solomon. Britta recognized the thin young woman with honey-blond hair who had been eager to help with the children’s activities for the Harvest Hurrah.
“You two look so cute together,” Jennifer gushed. “How long have you been dating?”
Milo sidled closer to Britta. “This is our second date.”
“Maybe third,” Britta said. “Milo has a way of bumping into me.” Her lips twitched when she saw the tips of Milo’s ears redden.
“What can I say? Our local library holds many treasures.”
“Aw, he’s a keeper, Britta,” Jennifer said.
Britta cleared her throat at the implications between her and Milo. An innocent date to the church potluck was suddenly turning into a full-on relationship. Her earlier resolve was melting like the cheese in Anika’s pot of chili she could see steaming in the middle of the table.
“Kirke’s been a great help at the board meetings. Is he here today?” Britta asked.
“Uh, no. I’m not sure where he is today.” Jennifer glanced around. “But— um, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with the fundraiser.”
“I’ll do that,” Britta responded. “Well, it was great seeing you. I’ll look for you at the Hurrah.” She lifted two fingers in a wave towards Jennifer and practically bolted for the line.
“Someone’s hungry,” Milo said with a twinkle in his eye.
“You stop. You look pretty hungry yourself all of a sudden.”
Milo opened his mouth, closed it, and then raised his eyebrows. Right after she said it, Britta realized how it sounded and they both burst out laughing. Thankfully, they had reached the beginning of the line by then. Britta handed Milo a plate, and they concentrated on the food instead of each other.
Kisses Between the Lines: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 2) Page 7
