“Oh, God, what did I do?” I wanted to cry, to lie down next to the poor dog and weep. Once upon a time, when I was nineteen, I’d accidentally rolled a squirrel who’d tried to get across the street ahead of my car. I’d cried for an hour and refused to drive again for a week. But while I was very sorry for Mr. Squirrel, this was a dog, a sweet pup who had only had the bad luck to run into my BMW when it was going a little too fast.
I approached him carefully, remembering that injured animals could sometimes be dangerous. But the dog didn’t do anything but watch me with huge brown eyes that seemed to beg me for help.
“I’m so sorry, doggie. I didn’t see you. But it’s going to be okay, because I’ll take you to the vet, and they can fix you right up. Just . . . just let me get you into the car.”
I managed to run back to the still-running car and back it close enough that I could lift him into the backseat. From his size and weight, I guessed that he wasn’t quite full-grown yet. My heart almost broke when he whimpered as I laid him on the seat.
“Hang in there, buddy. I’m going to find someone to help you.” I closed the back door and leaned over the driver’s seat to get my phone. Thanking God that I had service out here in the middle of nowhere, I ran a search for local veterinarians. When one popped up only five minutes away, I wanted to kiss my phone.
“Yes! Okay, dog. Just stay still back there, and I’ll get you to some place where they can help you.”
I added the address of the vet’s office to my mapping program and pulled back onto the road, grateful that no other cars had come speeding by while I was trying to save the pup. I drove as fast as I could—but not too fast, since hitting another animal while transporting the first one to get medical attention—yeah, that wasn’t part of any plan I had.
The veterinarian clinic was in a newer-looking building just at the edge of town. I pulled up alongside the front, jumped out of the car and flung open the door. The few people sitting in the waiting room looked up, startled. A lady with a bird cage in her lap gave a little shriek of surprise.
The receptionist at the front desk stood up. “Can I help you?” She was an older woman, and her scrubs were decorated with tiny kittens.
“Yes. Sorry for bursting in. I—” Pull it together, Elizabeth. Don’t fall apart now. “I hit a dog. Out on the highway. He’s hurt, and I have him in the back of my car.”
If my MO in this kind of situation was utter panic, the receptionist was my exact opposite. She regarded me for a few seconds and then turned. “Smith! We have an emergency here.”
The man who came jogging down the hall was hot in a preppy, well-groomed way. He saw me standing in the doorway and pointed. “Out there?”
“Yeah.” I led the way, opening the back door of the car. “It was an accident. He came running out of this field, and I couldn’t even swerve out of the way in time. I think he hit me more than I did him.”
Smith—and I wasn’t certain if that was his first name or last—leaned over the dog, crooning comfortingly. “It’s okay there, fellow. You’re going to be okay.” He glanced back over his shoulder at me. “Did the car actually go over him?”
The very thought made me want to gag. “I don’t think so. He came barreling into the car, like I said, and as soon as he hit, I turned away from him. I didn’t feel the car—you know.” I swallowed. “Go over him.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t feel like he has broken ribs, and his pelvis feels like it’s intact. It’s possible he sort of bounced off the car. He could have some other broken bones, and maybe a concussion. Let me get a gurney, and we’ll roll him in and take a look.”
I stood out of the way while the vet, with help from the receptionist/nurse he called Millie, maneuvered the dog gurney close to my car and lifted the animal onto it. They were just moving it around toward the door when an old pickup truck rolled into the parking lot. A woman with long dark hair, wearing jeans and flannel shirt, jumped from the cab and hurried over to us.
“What’s going on?” She peered over my shoulder.
“Canine vs. MV. Not as bad as it could be, I think. I’m taking him back to X-ray.” His eyes met the woman’s. “Why don’t you get all the particulars from . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Elizabeth Hudson.” I scooted out of the way as Smith and Millie wheeled the dog inside.
“Elizabeth . . . hey, I know you.” The woman in the flannel shirt smiled. “My mom was telling me you’re the new lawyer in town. She just raves about you, how nice you are, and . . . well, that sounds creepy, doesn’t it?” She held out her hand. “I’m Maureen Evans. Cory’s my mother.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re Maureen?” I wanted to hug her. I’d heard from Cory all about her daughter and her recent romance. “So he’s that Smith, huh?”
She laughed. “I see Mom’s been talking to you, too. Hey, why don’t you move your car and then come on in, and we’ll see what’s going on with the dog.”
By the time I’d parked the BMW and come back inside, Maureen had boiled water for tea and was waiting for me in her office. She motioned to a chair.
“Have a seat. Tell me what happened between you and that handsome blond in X-ray.”
“The blond—oh. The dog.” I sighed. “I was . . . I was driving too fast. I’d had a bad afternoon, and I just wanted to get out and be alone and not have to think. I was crying, and then he just came darting out of nowhere. I did the best I could to avoid him.” I felt again the thump of the dog hitting my car, and suddenly I fell apart. Burying my face in my hands, I gave up and wept.
“Oh, honey. No, don’t cry. Shhhh.” Maureen pulled me against her and stroked my hair. She reminded me of her mother, and I let myself relax as all of my pain and guilt from the day poured out.
“I’m a horrible person, and I was terrible to Gladys, and even if she is a raging bitch, she didn’t deserve that. And I just—I’m so damned tired of doing something I hate, and living in a place I want to like, but where I’m afraid to get to know anyone.” I met Maureen’s sympathetic eyes. “If it weren’t for your mother, I think I’d have run away that first week.”
“Yeah, Mom’s a peach, isn’t she?” Maureen straightened up and nudged my tea cup toward me. “Here, have some of this. You should know, though, that my sister Iona and Flynn and me—we’re grateful to you. Mom’s been kind of coasting through life since my dad passed. At first we didn’t notice—she’s good at covering, my mother is—but after Flynn and Ali got married, and Iona had her second little guy, we realized Mom wasn’t quite . . . there anymore. She showed up and smiled and put on a good show, but her heart wasn’t in it. But she’s been better since you came to town. She doesn’t tell us what you talk about, but she’ll say that you came in to the library for tea, and she always seems a little happier.” Maureen squeezed my hand. “So thanks for being a good friend to her.”
I sniffled. “She’s been the only good thing about Burton.” A new wave of sadness engulfed me. “I never should’ve come here.”
Maureen was silent for a few minutes. “Hey, you know what? Smith’s going to be a little while with all the tests in there. Let me take care of Mrs. Hauvers—she’s the lady with the bird in the waiting room—and then I don’t think we have any other appointments today. I have an idea.”
She jumped up and headed out of the room. I closed my eyes and tried to pull myself together, feeling like an idiot for losing my cool in front of people I didn’t even know.
After about fifteen minutes, Maureen reappeared, shrugging into a jacket. “Come on. I want to take you somewhere.”
Before I could say yay or nay, she was dragging me out of the clinic and to her truck. “Where are we going?”
She hopped in on her side and turned over the engine. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Ahhh—”
“Don’t answer that.” Maureen grinned. “When I was a little girl, I was very shy. And very sensitive. My feelings were always getting hurt, and I’d come home from school sad
and crying. And my dad—well, he was just about the best man you could ever meet.” Her voice went soft. “He would take me to this special place, and we’d sit there together.”
“Okay.” I found a tissue in my purse and blew my nose. I was silent, watching out the window as we made our way into town. Maureen turned down a side street a few blocks away from my office and pulled to the curb in front of a tiny storefront. Whimsical letters painted on the front window read Sweetness and Bites.
We both got out of the truck, and I followed Maureen through the door. Immediately, the wonderful smells assaulted my senses: sweet frying dough, chocolate and caramel mixed with the tantalizing scent of baking bread. I sighed and moaned softly.
“Right?” Maureen elbowed me in the ribs. “See? No one can be sad in this place.”
“Not on my watch, anyway.” A beautiful woman with long black hair, liberally laced with silver, stepped through swinging doors into the front of the shop. “Maureen, dear one, who have you brought me today?”
“Kiki, this is Elizabeth. She’s new to town, and she’s had a bad day. What can you do for her?”
Kiki’s green eyes perused me, up and down, almost as though she was scanning my body. She frowned, cocked her head and tapped her lips with one long, tapered finger. “Bad day, indeed. I have just the thing.” She pointed to the corner of the shop, where a small round table was flanked by tiny chairs. “Go sit. I’ll bring it out.”
“I don’t get to choose?” I whispered to Maureen.
“Not all the time. Sometimes you do. But trust me, Kiki never gets it wrong.” She dragged out one of the chairs and sat down as I did the same. I’d just reached for a paper napkin to finish the job of mopping up my pathetic tearful face when Maureen’s phone went off.
She fished it out of her pocket, and I watched her eyes take in the text message. “Good news. Smith says the dog probably has a concussion, and one of his legs has a fracture in the distal radius . . . but otherwise, he looks good. No evidence of internal bleeding that he can find, no broken ribs. This was one lucky dog.” She put away her phone and grinned at me. “Now you have a reason to celebrate.”
“And I have just the thing.” Kiki came back in, carrying a tray with a teapot and cups. Following behind her was a younger woman whose red hair was cut short and whose hands toted two plates.
Kiki eased the tray onto our table, pointing to the pastries as the other woman set down the plates in front of Maureen and me.
“For you, Maureen my love, an apple turnover with Dubliner cheddar. You need the protein. For my new friend, an almond horn of joy, because you, dear one, need to find your joy.”
I stared first at the cookie and then up at the bakery proprietor. “I do? I mean—how do you know?”
“We don’t ask that. We just accept it and enjoy.” Maureen cut off a piece of her turnover with the fork. “Oh my God, Kiki, this is sinful.”
“Rather apropos for an apple turnover, eh?” Kiki watched us, beaming. “Sydney, darling girl, this is Maureen, who I was telling you about. Reen, dear, my niece Sydney.”
Maureen nodded but didn’t say anything, since her mouth was full of apple turnover and cheese. I took a tentative bite of the cookie. It melted on my tongue, as sweet almond flavor exploded into my mouth. I couldn’t hold back a little groan of ecstasy.
Sydney laughed. “I think that’s the best compliment I’ve had in weeks. Just so happens that I made the almond horns.”
Kiki beamed and hugged her niece. “Sydney’s graciously agreed to take a break from her own restaurant in Savannah and come mind my shop while I’m away.”
The younger woman rolled her eyes, but it was good-natured. “What Aunt Kiki means is that my little hole-in-the-wall place in Savannah went under last month, and she’s letting me stay here and run the bakery while she and her boy toy go globe trotting.”
I was thoroughly confused. “You’re going on a trip?” Of course, I really wanted to ask about the boy toy, but since I’d just met this woman, it seemed wiser to stick to the travel plans.
“I am.” She mock-glared at Sydney. “She’s teasing, though. Troy isn’t my boy toy. He’s the love of my life. He just happens to be twenty years younger than me. Oh, and he’s sort of a big deal in country music.”
The pieces were beginning to fall into place. “Your Troy—is he Troy Beck? The Troy Beck?”
Kiki smiled serenely. “He is. Isn’t he a hottie?” She leaned toward me. “And if you think he looks good with his clothes on, you should see him without them.” She fanned herself with one hand.
“Aunt Kiki!” I could tell Sydney was equal parts amused and mortified. “Honestly. The things you say.”
Maureen was laughing so hard that she was nearly falling out of her chair. “The things she says are one of the main reasons I love her. I always tell Kiki that when I grow up, I want to be just like her.”
“And I tell you, growing up is something I never plan to do.” Kiki shrugged. “Sorry if we’re making you uncomfortable, Elizabeth. But I spent the better part of my life trying to please other people, saying what I thought they wanted to hear and doing what I thought they wanted. I turned fifty and said to hell with that. Now I dress like I want. I say what I want to say, as long as it’s not hurtful or harmful to others. And I do what I want, with whom I want.”
“Bravo.” Maureen clapped. “See, Elizabeth? Isn’t she awesome?”
“She is.” I felt so comfortable in this place, with all the smells and these amazing women surrounding me. For the first time in years, I was in a cocoon of familiarity, as though I’d stepped into the world where I was meant to be. All of my angst from this day was melting away with each bite of the almond cookie. I took a sip of my tea and thought I never wanted to leave this place.
Kiki narrowed her eyes as she watched me. I had the sense once again that she was reading me, examining my thoughts. “Elizabeth, do you have some free time this weekend?”
I thought about it and nodded. “Actually, I have nothing but free time.” Weekends were not usually fun for me, since I had no desire to sit at the apartment and spend quality time with Donna. Trent took our clothes to the Laundromat on Saturdays and did yard and house work for Mrs. Price on Sundays; I suspected he too tried to avoid being stuck in the apartment with his mom. But this weekend, Trent was going to be at the Road Block as Mason trained him. My options were going to my office and pretending to work or wandering around town, since the library closed at noon on Saturdays and wasn’t open at all on Sundays.
“I thought so. Perfect.” She rubbed her hands together. “Come in Saturday about ten, and Sydney and I will teach you to make the horns of joy. That way, you can have them whenever you need them.”
I wrinkled my forehead. “Can’t I just come get them from you?”
Kiki shook her head. “I hope you will when you can, but in this life, we need to be able to make our own joy sometimes. You have to be prepared to take it with you. What will you do when you leave Burton? Never eat these delicious cookies again? I think not.”
Sydney leaned her hip against the counter. “You might as well just plan to be here. She never gives up, and she’s always right. Drives me batshit crazy, but it’s true.”
I shrugged. “Hey, I’m not going to complain about spending a day here, learning to make cookies. It beats any other plans I might have by a long shot.”
“Good.” Kiki grinned. “It’s a date then.” She tilted her head at me again, her lips pursing. “Tell me, how’s that handsome husband of yours?”
My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say. Since I’d come to Burton, I’d only shared my marital status with three people: Trent’s mother, Cory Evans and Clark Morgan. Donna never left the house, and as far as I knew, she didn’t have many if any friends in town. Clark might’ve told someone, but it seemed unlikely—and he’d been in New Mexico for a month now. I knew Cory hadn’t told anyone. She was the very soul of discretion, and that hunch was borne out by the expre
ssion of shock on her daughter’s face just now.
“Are you married to Trent?” Maureen’s voice was incredulous. “Trent Wagoner? Oh my God. I mean, I’d heard you were living in the same apartment, but when I asked my mom about it, she told me there was some kind of mix-up with the rental company and you were letting his mom and him live there until they could find something else.”
I gave an inward sigh. God bless Cory. She’d managed to keep my secret without telling a lie.
Sydney quirked an eyebrow at me. “I have no idea what’s going on, but apparently this is shocking news. Who’s Trent? And why is it so surprising you’re married to him?”
Kiki patted her niece’s back. “Patience. Let Elizabeth talk.”
I glanced up at her. “How did you know?”
She smiled beatifically and lifted one shoulder. “I have a connection to Trent. I’ve known him since he was a little boy, when I used to sneak him treats whenever he stopped in. I keep track of those who’re special to me, and he is.” She paused and cast her eyes up as though listening to something I couldn’t hear. “I saw him when he came back to town, and I knew his heart was broken. I lured him in here under the pretense of needing help with a bag of flour, and then I coerced him into eating chocolate chip cookies. They’re his favorite.” She added that last almost as an aside to me.
“And he told you about me?” I couldn’t imagine my taciturn husband spilling his guts to the bakery lady.
“Not in so many words. He told me what he’d been up to, that he’d lived for a time in Florida, and that he’d left abruptly. I happened to notice that he was wearing a wedding ring, and when I asked, he told me it was complicated.”
It made sense now. “And then I came to town and moved in with him . . .”
Kiki nodded. “Exactly. All the pieces clicked, except for the one where neither of you is telling anyone that you’re married to each other. That one I still don’t get.”
I swan dived back into our old stand-by. “It’s complicated. We got married fast, and then—well, stuff happened. And now we’re not sure where we stand.”
Always My Own (Always Love Trilogy #2) Page 13
