“Yeah. I can. She looks like her mother.” Although she had blue eyes. Like Max. And like forty percent of the population.
“Do you have baby pictures of yourself?”
“Ida, enough.”
“What?” she asked with an innocent smile.
“You’re trying to distract me from the real issue.”
“Which is?”
“Your matchmaking. I don’t need your help finding someone. If I want a woman in my life, I’ll pursue her.”
“You told me that after the Samantha incident, and I’ve stayed out of your love affairs, haven’t I?”
“Yes. Until now.”
“I haven’t even mentioned your name to Charlotte.” She sniffed delicately and walked outside. “Yet.”
“Ida!”
“Relax, Max. Charlotte is much too smart to be manipulated into your arms” She laughed and headed down the stairs.
He kept an eye on her until she was inside her house.
He loved Ida. She reminded him of his grandmother, but was sharper. In the best possible way. She did tend to meddle in people’s business. He supposed that went with the job of mayor.
He closed the door, took off his coat, and yanked off his uniform tie. Cade didn’t require it, but Max usually wore one. Because he could, and because he knew it made people think he was a little too polished, a little too city for small-town life. It always surprised people when they realized he enjoyed hunting, fishing, and four-wheeling. That he could pitch a tent or camp in a sleeping bag or even sleep on a bed of pine needles, really blew their minds.
He enjoyed that. He liked disproving stereotypes almost as much as he enjoyed small-town life. He flicked off the light, walking through the apartment. He could have eaten something, but his fatigue seemed to be outweighing hunger in terms of importance.
“Maxi?” Zuzu whispered from the doorway of her room as he walked into the dark hallway. “Is that you?”
“Who else would it be?” He flicked on the hall light, his heart jerking a little as he looked into Zuzu’s face. She had a crease on her cheek from her pillow and two little braids sticking out from the sides of her head.
“Some bad man,” she replied, shoving her thumb in her mouth.
“Not in this house.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. It was starting to look like a girl’s room. Pink blankets on the bed. Pink pillowcases. Dolls on the chair in the corner.
“How do you know?” she asked as he tucked her back into bed.
“Pete wouldn’t let them in.”
“Pete is nice.” She folded her hands on her chest.
“He’s nice to nice people, but he eats bad guys.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she said with a frown.
“You’re right. He doesn’t, but if any bad guys came, he would scare them away.”
“I think you would scare them away. Not Pete.” She seemed really worried, her big blue eyes wary.
“You okay, Zuzu?” he asked.
“I’m scared,” she responded, shoving her thumb in her mouth again.
“About what?”
“The bad man.”
“I promise there isn’t a bad man.”
Even he thought it was a lame response.
Zuzu pulled the covers over her head and started crying. Not the loud wild sobs of the first night. These were quiet little sniffles that he wouldn’t have heard if he’d been in another room.
“Don’t cry.” He patted the blanket.
“I have to cry, Maxi. But maybe I can stop if you stay in here with me tonight.” She peeked out, her eyes filled with tears. She was playing him. No doubt about it, but she really was scared, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving her alone to cry.
“Okay. Fine. Give me a second to get my blanket and pillow.”
“I’ll help.” She hopped out of bed and took his hand.
It took a few minutes longer with her along, but he finally managed to grab what he needed and return to her room. He tucked her into bed for a second time, spread a blanket on the floor, and stripped off his shirt.
“Are you getting naked?” Zuzu piped up, and damn if he didn’t blush.
“No! I am not getting naked.” He lay down. The floor was hard, but he’d slept on worse.
“Mommy gets naked when she sleeps sometimes.”
“Too much information, kid. Now go to sleep,” he grumbled.
“First a kiss.” She leaned over the side of the bed, her little braids dangling near her cheeks as she slapped a kiss on his forehead. “Night, Maxi,” she sang as she scooted back into bed.
“Good night, Zuzu,” he responded, punching the pillow twice and settling in.
He was almost asleep when bedcovers rustled. Blankets dragged across him. A pillow landed near his head, and Zuzu tripped over his chest as she tried to get to it.
He was too tired to demand that she go back to bed, so he helped her settle down and covered her with a blanket.
“Good night again, Maxi,” she whispered. “I love you.”
What else could he say but “I love you, too”?
Chapter Fifteen
Christmas lights.
The bane of Charlotte’s existence.
She hated hanging them with a passion that rivaled her passion for cooking.
She couldn’t put the job off forever. No matter how much she wanted to. Friday morning, she did what she had to and dragged the box of tangled lights from the bedroom closet. She was perched on a stepladder attempting to hang Christmas lights from the eaves of the porch when Cade walked across the street. She saw him coming, but she had to make a choice between finishing the row of lights or letting them dangle while she greeted him. Since she wasn’t sure how well they were attached, she decided to finish what she was doing.
“Morning, Charlotte!” he called, jogging up the stairs, his uniform crisp, his coat hanging open to reveal his uniform shirt and badge. Unlike Max, he never wore a tie. “Do you have a minute?”
“I will once I finish this,” she grunted as she stretched to hook the last part of the string into place. “There.” She hopped off the stepladder. “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to ask you a few questions before I headed into the office.”
“Official questions or unofficial?”
“Official.”
“Does that mean you can’t have a cup of coffee and a pumpkin scone?” That’s what she’d bribed herself with when she’d been trying to get motivated to put up the lights. Every year it got harder to want to decorate for Christmas. Every year she did it anyway.
This year she was rewarding herself with scones and coffee.
“I always have time for your baked goods, Charlotte. You know that.” He grinned, taking his hat off as he walked into her house. He was a true gentleman, but she wouldn’t have expected anything else. His family had been in Apple Valley for five generations. Their roots in the community went deep, and their reputation had remained untarnished by sordid stories or dark pasts.
She took a scone from the cooling rack, poured coffee into a mug, and handed both to Cade. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” He bit into the scone and groaned. “I could eat a dozen of these.”
“I’ll pack you more, but you have to share with your family.”
“If I didn’t love them so much, I’d keep the scones to myself.” He sipped coffee, eyeing her over the rim of the cup. There was something calculating in his eyes, a sharpness that usually wasn’t there.
“What’s going on, Cade?” She handed him another scone and bit into one herself.
“Have you had any conversations with Daisy lately?” he asked casually, pulling out a chair and gesturing for her to sit.
“No,” she responded quickly. Then realized it wasn’t the truth. “Actually I did. She stopped by the day after your wedding. She wanted to buy some of my double chocolate delight cupcakes.”
“Did you sell them to her?”
&nb
sp; “Of course not. You know the rule.” She’d explained it to him the same way she’d explained it to everyone else who’d wanted to buy the cupcakes. He’d been a lot less disappointed than most people had been.
“I do. I’m not sure you remember it though.” He took a last sip of coffee and dumped the remainder in the sink.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Max had one of those cupcakes yesterday.”
“Accidentally,” she protested. “I didn’t even realize I’d made one until it was too late.”
He eyed her for a moment, his dark blue eyes filled with amusement.
“What?!” she demanded.
“How does a person accidentally make a cupcake?”
“You know what I mean.” She bit into the scone. She didn’t want to say more than that. He might think she was protesting too much.
Not that it really mattered what Cade thought. He’d keep it to himself. Unlike most people in town, he was very good at protecting information. “I guess I do. It was sort of a Freudian slip, right?”
“Ri . . . Wrong! ”
“You just keep telling yourself that, Charlotte.” He grinned.
“Think what you want,” she huffed.
“I will.”
She grabbed the dish towel and tossed it at him. “You’re a rat, Cade.”
He laughed, taking her by the arm and walking to the front door. “I’m a friend. To both of you. I just want to make sure neither of you is hurt.”
“We’re both adults. I think we can avoid hurting each other without too much effort.”
“That’s what Tessa said. She also said I should keep my nose out of it and let the two of you figure things out. I decided not to listen.”
“There’s nothing to figure out, so you wasted your time coming over here.”
“I came over to ask you about Daisy. I did. The other questions were bonus.”
“Why did you ask about Daisy?”
“She was parked in front of Zim’s house the other night. Max saw her as he was leaving.”
“That was . . .” She was going to say “after midnight,” but she didn’t want to admit that Max had been at her house that late. “Strange.”
“Max thought so. He questioned her about it. She said she was on her way home from the library and saw his car. She wanted to ask him about the break-in at your place and make sure that you were okay.”
“Interesting.”
“Especially since you don’t know her very well. Or have you guys become chummy since my wedding?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t telling the truth. It’s possible she really was concerned.”
“You’re right. That’s why we ran the prints we found at your house before I spoke with you. I wanted to make sure we didn’t have another suspect.”
“You don’t think she has something to do with the break-in?”
“She asked a lot of questions about your case, Charlotte. She wanted to know what evidence Max collected. She seemed to be fishing, but we’re not sure what she thought she’d catch.”
“Maybe she’s guilty and wanted to know if you were getting close to arresting her? Is that what you’re thinking?” Charlotte asked.
“I’m thinking a lot of things, but I don’t have any proof yet. I want to talk to a few of Daisy’s coworkers and friends. Maybe they have information about her that will help the case.”
“It seems strange to even call it a case. Nothing was taken. Nothing was destroyed. If it was Daisy—”
“She broke the law and will have to pay the penalty for that. I’ll give you a call if we learn anything, okay?”
“Just be careful, Cade. This town is small, and if people think I’ve been accusing the town librarian of a nefarious act, I’ll probably be blacklisted. My baked goods will go stale because no one will be willing to buy and eat them. Maybe—”
“Don’t worry, Charlotte, I’m pretty diplomatic when I want to be.” He patted her shoulder. From the look on his face, he was trying desperately not to laugh.
Of course, it was funny to him.
He’d spent his childhood in Apple Valley. He was the golden son, the hometown hero, the guy most likely to succeed. He seemed to do everything right all the time. No missteps. No reason for the gossips to talk. Even his marriage was the perfect match. When he and Tessa announced their engagement, there’d been a town-wide celebration. The prodigal daughter and the good old boy together forever? It was the perfect ending and the perfect beginning and the perfect everything in between.
Charlotte didn’t have the luxury of town loyalty. Sure, people liked her. In another twenty years, they might even start thinking about her as homegrown. For right now, though, she was still the transplant from Montana, and she had to be a lot more careful about what she did and said.
That was one of the reasons why she had to get the stupid Christmas lights up even if she didn’t have a drop of holiday spirit in her. Every other house on Main Street had lights in the windows, around the doors, draped from the porch, and around every tree in the yard. Charlotte didn’t have the time or patience for full-on decorating, but she’d put up lights for the very first time after moving to Apple Valley. Zim had knocked on her front door two weeks before Christmas and asked why she was such a Scrooge. He’d made no bones about the fact that she was bringing down the entire neighborhood by not decorating her house.
Once she’d assured him that hadn’t been her intention, he’d offered to help her hang a few strands of Christmas lights. She’d agreed. The holiday decorating tradition had been born, and in a place like Apple Valley, traditions never died.
And there she was, three Christmases later, hanging lights by herself. No Christmas carols or hot chocolate. No laughing conversation. Just her and the darn tangled lights in the box she’d left near the front door.
She dragged the whole mess outside. One more free strand. That was all she needed, and the porch would be finished.
Or she could just throw all the lights away and forget it. She’d be the only house on Main Street with nothing to honor the holiday season aside for the lone string of lights that hung listlessly from half the porch.
Not that Zim would let that happen.
If she didn’t get the lights up soon, he’d be over to help. If that happened, they’d be hanging lights from every available surface. Porch, windows, eaves, trees, fence. Maybe even the dried-out grass, if he could find a way to do it.
She yanked at the tangle of lights, only half noticing a father and daughter on the sidewalk a couple of hundred yards away. She probably wouldn’t have noticed them at all except for the fact that the man was jogging behind his daughter’s pink Big Wheel, his long stride shortened to stay just a little behind. They made a cute picture. The little girl sporting a pink bike helmet and fluffy pink coat and the man . . .
The man!
Wow!
Black running pants and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, his gray down vest closed over a broad chest. Her gaze drifted to his face, and she found herself looking into the most incredible blue eyes.
“Max!” she called without meaning to, her heart tripping all over itself with excitement. She was supposed to be avoiding the man. That was the plan for the day. She’d made her deliveries early, so she could put up the lights and get out of Dodge. When Max came to pick her up for dinner, she’d be out . . . Christmas shopping.
Sure. That sounded good.
Not that she had anyone to shop for. She usually gave neighbors and friends baskets of baked goods for Christmas, lots of nice little goodies to share with friends and family who were coming for the holidays. By the time Christmas arrived, her cupboards were bare, and the scents of baked goods had faded from the kitchen. Last year she’d come home from Christmas Eve dinner at the McKenzies, and the house had the musty smell that old abandoned homes got when they hadn’t been lived in for a while. It had been depressing and sad, and she’d felt so lonely that she’d gone for a drive.
She’d made it all the way to the Idaho border before she’d felt like turning around.
“Char-lotte!” Zuzu squealed, pedaling the Big Wheel for all she was worth. Dark curls peeked out from under the helmet, her cheeks bright pink from the cold. She looked adorable!
Charlotte dropped the tangled lights and walked across the yard. “Look at you, Miss Thing! You’re a regular speed demon.”
“I’m not a Speed Demon. I’m Zuzu!” Zuzu stopped half an inch shy of Charlotte’s foot and pulled off her helmet. “See!”
“You sure are! Are you out for a ride?” She made a studious effort to avoid looking at Max.
He didn’t seem to have any qualms about looking at her.
He moved right into her space, his arm brushing hers as he leaned over to take the helmet from Zuzu’s hand.
“Tell her why we’re here, Zu,” he said.
“I didn’t cry one time at the doctor, so I get cookies. Maxi is going to buy me a hundred-zillion,” Zuzu announced.
She climbed off the Big Wheel, the cuffs of her pink pants half-tucked into blue snow boots.
“That’s a lot of cookies,” Charlotte responded, taking the hand that Zuzu held out.
“I like cookies. Maxi likes cookies, too. Right?” She looked up at Max, and that was the exact moment that Charlotte looked at him, too. It was a mistake, because he was watching Zuzu, and he had the softest expression on his face. A sweet kind of besotted-and-I-don’t-know-how-it-happened kind of look that made Charlotte’s heart melt into a puddle.
“I love cookies. Among other things,” he murmured, his gaze cutting to Charlotte, his eyes going from soft to burning hot.
Her heart wasn’t the only thing that melted. Her insides turned to mush, every thought she’d had about canceling dinner flying out the proverbial window.
“That’s . . .” she started to say, her voice huskier than she wanted it to be. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Nice to know. Come on, Zuzu. Let’s go get those cookies.”
She headed across the yard, nearly running in her haste to get away. The sad thing was, she could have run a million miles and still not escape, because the problem wasn’t Max. It was her.
The Cottage on the Corner Page 21
