by Judi Lynn
He appreciated her honesty. “That’s why I left my ex. I understand what you’re telling me.”
Her shoulders relaxed. She’d been worried about him. That was nice. “So, do you want to sign the contract?” she asked.
Once their business was over, she drove him back to town. On the way, he thought about their conversation. He’d grown up with Miles. He recognized a troubled person when he saw one, so why had he gotten April pregnant when they were seniors in high school? Because he was young and stupid and she was so needy, he’d wanted to make her feel loved. Talk about naïve.
Never again. If he ever fell in love again, it would be with someone sturdy and solid. An Amazon.
He thought of Miriam. The woman looked like she could give as good as she got. A challenge.
He pushed her out of his mind and turned to Iris. “Are there any outlets around here you think would be good for my product?”
“Honey, you’ve come to the right place.” She turned at Lake Drive. They passed farms on the far side of the road and the marina and public beaches on the other. “You need to meet Ian McGregor. He runs the resort on the lake and his wife owns the bakery and farm stand next door.”
She parked in the lot of a sprawling inn with the lake at its back. It offered tennis courts, a golf course, and horse stables. Joel was impressed. She led him inside and a tall man with dark hair and chocolate-brown eyes circled the check-in counter to greet him.
“Joel, this is Ian,” Iris said by way of introduction.
Ian extended a hand. “Tyne told me about you.”
Tyne popped his head out of the office when he heard his name and grinned when he recognized Joel. “The beer maker! Nice to see you again.” He followed Ian to greet him. “I’ve been tinkering with Coney recipes.”
Joel blinked his surprise. He’d been worried he’d be odd man out in a small town, that longtime residents would be cliquey. Instead, he’d been greeted with open arms. Not what he’d expected. “I asked Iris about possible markets for my beer and she brought me here.” Joel had researched Mill Pond, but he hadn’t thought of selling beer to the inn.
Ian gestured him toward the inn’s dining room. “A good thing. We buy all our wine from Harley’s winery, but we’ve never offered beer. We try to avoid name brands to support local farmers and suppliers. Once you get up and running, stop by to talk to me.”
“Will do.” Joel’s gaze roamed to the wide expanse of windows at the back of the room. The view of the lake was stunning.
“You need to meet Mill Pond’s farmers and suppliers,” Tyne told him. “I work night shifts, so I can drive you around and introduce you to them. I have tomorrow open. What do you say?”
“Who could turn that down?” Joel shook his head. “You people sure are friendly. I was worried it would take me twentysome years to fit in here.”
Ian laughed. “Mill Pond’s trying to grow, to attract more tourists. Every businessman wants the next one to succeed. That way we can offer more, draw in more people.”
It made sense. These people worked together instead of competing. Joel felt himself relax more. He might not only make it here but he was sure to enjoy the new people he’d meet.
Chapter 3
Miriam propped her hip on her desk corner and studied her advanced students. “I’ve brought in a guest speaker today. Thought you might need a break from your projects.” Actually, she’d brought in a speaker for all her three of her English classes. She taught journalism, too, but most of those students were already in one of her other classes.
“Our guest isn’t here just to talk about colleges. I know not every kid—not even the smart ones—likes school. I don’t care if you go on to a trade school, a two-year program, or a prestigious college, as long as you use your potential and follow your passions.”
The class looked relieved to forget their research papers for a day. They glanced at the speaker expectantly.
Miriam motioned to the woman waiting to be introduced. “I’ve invited Leticia Grayston to speak with you today. Most of you already have applied to and maybe even been accepted by universities, but not all of you have made up your minds. Leticia is a therapist and I deeply respect her work. She’s here to talk about how to develop the best of who you are. Enjoy her presentation.”
Miriam settled behind her desk to watch her students while Leticia spoke. The therapist grabbed their attention immediately, as Miriam knew she would. Leticia talked about accepting who you were, your strengths and foibles, liking yourself, staying true to yourself, and reaching your potential. These kids were motivated. They hung on her words.
Before she realized it, Miriam found herself watching Maya’s reactions. Maya was in Miriam’s journalism class, too. She’d come to her for help applying for scholarships.
“I don’t know where to start,” she’d told her. “My parents won’t help me because they disowned me. I don’t want to graduate with tons of debt.”
Miriam had dug in with enthusiasm. Maya had to have a shot for a free ride in college. She was a superbrain and had worked hard for top grades. At one time, Miriam had worried that the girl wouldn’t make it out of Mill Pond. Her family seemed determined to doom her to a life of low wages, but then Maya’s stepfather had made a move on her, and that made Maya’s mother jealous, and the girl had gotten tossed out of her home through no fault of her own.
The best thing that could ever happen to her. Miriam had been delighted when Paula’s mother had taken her in to help run the day care in Ian’s inn. The security had made the girl blossom.
Maya was listening with rapt attention, but Miriam wondered what message she was hearing. She wished Leticia would say, And stay away from boys. They’re nothing but a distraction at your age. Don’t go there.
Maya had been in line for some serious scholarships, but lately, she didn’t seem as driven as usual. She’d been spending a lot of time with T. J. Preston, a nice enough boy and certainly good-looking but not very focused. Miriam worried she’d rather hook up with him and take a low-paying job to stay in Mill Pond. Don’t do it! Miriam screamed inside her head. But kids rarely heard telepathy, so she hoped Leticia’s lecture would help.
When the speech was over and the kids filed out of the room, Leticia raised her eyebrows at Miriam. Last year Leticia had worked with one of Miriam’s students who’d tried to commit suicide. She’d turned the girl around. “Well? What do you think? Did your girl take any of it in?”
“She listened well enough.”
Leticia shook her head sadly. “Not the same as hearing.”
“God, I know. I just hate to see a kid throw away her future. I hope some of it sank in.”
Leticia came close and patted her arm. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my profession, it’s that you can do your best to inspire and nurture but you can’t win ’em all.”
“Amen to that.” Still, Miriam couldn’t help herself from giving it her best try. She had speakers set up for her two other classes, too, people who worked at employment agencies, to talk about what businesses wanted and how to succeed in the work world. College or not, she wanted her students to do well.
Leticia hugged her good-bye. “You’ve done your best. Now it’s up to them.”
They were eighteen-years-old. What did they know? But today would make them think. And as a personal bonus, with speakers, Miriam wouldn’t have papers to grade tonight. She might even get caught up if she hit it hard when she got home.
She was feeling pretty upbeat when the last bell rang and the kids flew out of the building. She stayed for a half hour more, working on lesson plans, before she headed to the parking lot. And there, near the back of the lot, was a black Chevy, with Maya pressed against it in a tight embrace with T. J., their lips locked.
Damn it all to hell! Miriam had to stop herself from marching back there and yanking them apart. What was Maya thinking? Wait . . . did she really want to know? A chill made the hairs on her arms stand on end when T. J.’s hands sl
id under Maya’s blouse.
The girl was too young, not savvy enough. What to do? She called and waved. “Have a great night, kids!”
They jerked apart. Maya’s face flushed fiery red. Good, she was embarrassed. She should be. Would she stop making out with T. J.? Hell no. With no affection at home, she’d found it elsewhere.
Now Miriam was really worried. Her thoughts turned away from which college Maya should choose to whether the girl knew about birth control and if she was being careful. It was time to pull her aside and give her the lecture. Hell, she’d buy her condoms if Maya would let her, pay for her to be on the Pill or, even better, the Shot.
With a new plan in mind, Miriam slid behind the steering wheel of her car and started for home. Driving down Main Street always lifted her spirits with its old-fashioned streetlamps and striped window canopies. Every flower box and keg already brimmed with blooms.
She gave a rueful laugh as she passed Art’s Grocery store, Grams’s church, and Daphne’s stained-glass shop. She had condoms waiting in her nightstand at home, but they’d been there so long, they’d probably withered with age by now. Same could be said for her. She’d been ready a long time, but there hadn’t been any takers.
Maya had found a taker, though. And that changed things. If the girl didn’t go to college this fall, she could go later, if she didn’t get pregnant. Babies made everything more complicated. Time to spell things out for her.
Chapter 4
Joel watched Tyne’s bright orange Jeep pull to the curb in front of Daphne’s shop the next morning. When Tyne noticed him, he grinned and beckoned him with a wave.
“Oh boy.” The top was off, the windows gone. Joel reached for his heavy jacket. He didn’t own black leather like Tyne wore. He’d be the uncool passenger, trying not to freeze to death because early May wasn’t warm enough for whizzing around town in the open air.
Adele came to glance out the window, too. When she saw Tyne, her jaw dropped.
“He’s married,” Joel warned. His daughter had watched too many movies with Prince Charmings of one kind or another, and Tyne sure looked the part—if Disney ever showed princes with scruffy chins and way too much sex appeal. She’d never met anyone like him.
Steps pounded up the stairs before Joel finished his list of reminders to his daughter. “And if you need anything . . .”
“. . . Daphne’s downstairs,” Adele finished for him.
Tyne knocked, then cracked open the door. “You ready?”
Joel should have figured Tyne was a doer, not good at waiting, the type who plunged into things instead of dipping his toes in the water. Joel had learned patience from his daughter. Her right foot was slightly turned in, so she couldn’t walk fast. Her right hand was twisted, too, so it took her a while to open mail or cut her food. At first, he’d pulled her plate over and done it for her, but then he’d realized he wasn’t helping her by helping her. She was better off doing as many things as she could on her own.
Adele gazed at Tyne, a dazed expression on her face and her hand over her heart.
Joel motioned him inside and nodded toward her. “Tyne, this is my daughter, Adele.”
Tyne’s glance flicked over her deformed right side. He gave a dazzling smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Adele bit her bottom lip, suddenly shy.
Tyne took it in his stride. Joel had the feeling women more often than not tripped over themselves when they met him. “I came to show your dad around town and introduce him to some people in the business. Do you hold down the fort while he’s gone?”
She blushed fiery red all the way to her hairline. “I watch TV.”
“Good enough; you’re on call if he needs you.”
That made her smile, and Joel knew they’d be leaving her happy. “Take care, kiddo. See you later.” He followed Tyne down the steps and climbed into the Jeep next to him.
“Nice kid,” Tyne said.
Joel squinted at him to see if he was serious. Most people who met Adele made comments or asked questions. “She has cerebral palsy.”
“She’s still a nice kid.”
Joel laughed. How refreshing! “That she is.”
“I thought I’d drive you around town first, show you the layout, and then introduce you to a few people.”
“Works for me.” Joel grabbed the door handle as Tyne jerked into gear. Then he held on for good measure as Tyne sped down Main Street and turned toward the nearby national forest.
“The forest is what brings so many tourists to town,” Tyne explained. “They stop at Mill Pond on the way to the nature trails and lodges.” They sped past corn and wheat fields until he pointed to a log cabin with a green tin roof about twenty minutes from town. The forest served as its backyard. “That’s our place. Daphne bought it years ago; lucky for me. I love nature.”
He turned right at the next road and headed toward the water. When they reached Lake Drive, he turned right again and took Joel to Harley’s winery. “You’ll like Harley. He, Chase, and I go biking together in the summer.”
“Biking? No wonder you’re in such good shape.” Joel wondered how many miles they rode.
“Motorcycles,” Tyne said, ruining that idea. He drove to a large white stucco building with a sign that announced TASTING ROOM. At least a dozen other cars were in the lot. “Come on.”
A tall man with dark, shaggy hair and five o’clock stubble walked toward them before they were inside. “I’ve been helping over at Dad’s new place, saw you pull in.”
Tyne turned to look at a long, low-slung ranch house with a tiled roof on the other side of the tasting room. “How’s it coming? It looks done.”
“They’re landscaping today, moving in furniture tomorrow. Dad and Vicki can hardly wait.” The stucco house was painted white to match the original house on the other side of the property. Harley turned to Joel. “My dad was a widower. He just remarried. He’s pretty excited about starting over.”
Fresh starts. New beginnings. “That’s why I’m moving here,” Joel admitted. “I get it.”
Harley stretched out a hand. “Our introductions got a little neglected. I’m Harley. You must be the new brew guy.”
“Joel Worth.” He felt odd, sandwiched between the two tall, gorgeous men. Weren’t there any ordinary guys in Mill Pond? They didn’t seem to think a thing about it, though. Maybe if he stood on a stool, he’d feel more secure. He’d never felt short before, just average. This was a new sensation. Come to think of it, though, he hadn’t felt short when he stood next to Miriam, and she had him by a couple of inches, too. He cleared his throat to answer. “I bought the old dairy on the southeast side of town. Mean to make it into a hot dog place and microbrewery.”
“I’m addicted to Chicago dogs.” Harley grinned his approval. “Fell in love with them when I took Kathy there a year ago. Don’t suppose you’ll offer those?”
“Sure will. I want some variety. Coneys. Chicago dogs. Big Apple–style with spicy mustard and sauerkraut. I have ten different topping choices on my menu.”
“You’ve done it now.” Harley laughed. “Kathy, my wife, is going to love your place. My dad gets a little gung ho about Italian. She likes a break once in a while.”
Joel watched as another car parked near the tasting room and four people walked inside. “Is it busy around here this time of year?”
Harley glanced in the windows at the people crowding around the tasting bar. “Busy enough. Peak season starts when the kids get out of school, but plenty of adults come before it gets so crowded.”
“Once it’s warm weather?” Joel asked.
Tyne shook his head. “You’ll be surprised how long our tourist season lasts. The big months are June, July, and August, but a lot of people come to see the leaves change in October. They come for specialty items for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Plus, the town goes all out, decorating for the holidays. It doesn’t really get slow until January, and then it picks up again as soon as the weather gets better in spring. Sometimes th
at’s as early as March.”
“That’s better than I thought.” Joel had expected a longer downtime.
“Some people come just to get away for a long weekend,” Harley said. “If the roads are decent, they make the trip. And now that Ian’s started offering special weekend packages for holidays, they even come for Valentine’s Day.”
Tyne glanced at his watch. “Hate to say it, but we’d better go. I’m giving him the grand tour today and you’re only our first stop. See you later, Harley.”
Harley glanced at his watch. “You’d better set a timer. People in Mill Pond love to talk about our town.”
Joel was getting that idea. “Where to next?” he asked Tyne as they pulled away.
“Thought I’d take you to the farmers close to Ian’s inn. They all raise specialty goods. They won’t be markets for your beer, but they’re good to know. And then I’ll finish with Art’s Grocery. He loves to feature local products. Has a special room for them. It’s one of the biggest draws in his store for tourists.”
More time passed than Joel expected. Harley was right. Every farmer wanted to talk about his product and the town. David Danza and his wife, Darinda, raised a variety of fowl on their farm—chickens, guinea hens, ducks, geese, pheasants. Darinda was a teacher, so she wasn’t home when they stopped by, but that just gave David more time to explain how his farm was run. The Albertsons had a dairy herd and the Kruses raised corn, soybeans, and wheat.
“I’d take you off the main roads, but we’d never get home,” Tyne told him. “Carl Gruber lives down that road, and he raises grass-fed beef.” He pointed down another road. “Evan Meyers breeds goats, and he and his sons produce cheese.”
Joel tried to remember the names but knew it was impossible. The wind whipped his cheeks to the same rosy red as Tyne’s as they zipped toward town. He was relieved when they finally stopped at Art’s Grocery.
Art left his small office to greet Tyne when they stepped inside. A young man and a young woman worked two cash registers, and they looked a lot like Art, with dark hair and dark eyes. All three had stocky builds. The son had his dad’s wide face and friendly smile.
