“Who’s this?” Holly started as another soft muzzle appeared along the fence. “Just in time, stranger.” She broke the last carrot in half. “You almost missed out.” She placed a carrot piece in each palm and fed one to the miniature, Streak, and one to the newcomer, a young, cream-colored gelding with a dark mane and tail. “Aren’t you handsome? You must be one of the boarders.”
The previous summer Thomas had built a six-stall horse barn and had talked about boarding horses in the two free stalls. Holly scratched a spot between the pony’s blue eyes and, after giving each horse a complimentary scratch, continued up the lane. The horses trailed along until they gave up on the carrots and wandered farther into the field.
A few minutes later, she saw Mac and Chris skipping stones into the pond. “Hey, you two. Catching up?”
“I was just telling Mac we haven’t talked in a long time.” Chris skipped a stone across the water. “Not since I flew out of Raleigh.”
Holly tossed a pebble into the pond and studied the expanding ripples. “Are you walking to the ridge?”
“Sure. I haven’t been up there in ages.” He picked up a flat rock and leaned sideways, skipping the stone across the pond.
Holly sat at the top of the bank leading down to the pond and leaned back on her arms. “I’ll bet you can’t get five skips.”
Chris shot her a look. “You talkin’ to me or Mac?”
“Both. As I recall, neither of you were very good at this.” Her comment brought roars of laughter from both men as they picked through the stones littering the bank, searching for the perfect rock.
“Prepare to be amazed, little sis.” Chris drew back his arm.
“Uncle Chris.” One of the twins stood a few yards down the lane.
Chris climbed the bank. “What do you need, honey?”
“Aunt Valerie wants you.”
Chris looked over his shoulder at Mac and Holly and made a face. “I have been summoned.”
Holly stood. “We’ll walk down with you.”
“No, you two go ahead. I’ll take a rain check.”
A bead of sweat rolled down Holly’s forehead and she wiped it away with her hand. “Do you feel like a walk, Mac?”
“Absolutely. I don’t often get homemade food so I’m afraid I ate too much. I’m more of a fast-food kind of guy.”
Holly smiled. “I can relate. Although my food is even faster. Protein bars.” She climbed the slight rise to the lane and turned toward the woods.
Mac walked alongside her. “This is the first we’ve met outside of your shop. Weird, huh?”
Holly nodded, sticking her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. “Dad thinks I should’ve stayed in. He thinks opening the shop was a risk, but—” she turned and looked at Mac straight on “—I was so tired of taking orders. Do you know what I mean?”
Mac chuckled. “You don’t need to explain to me, Holly. I got out after four.”
“I have to admit, though—and if you ever tell my father, your free coffees are history—it’s a bit daunting to be totally responsible for my own success or failure. At least in the military multiple people are responsible for a task.”
“Hey. I pay for my coffee. At least my take-out coffee. I’m sure Fritz just wants what’s best for you.” He pointed to a squirrel peeking from the side of a maple tree. “I haven’t been up here in years. Do you remember when we used to—”
“—sled down this hill?” The memory sparked a laugh in Holly and she took in the gradual slope with the occasional surprise rock. “We were crazy.”
Leaving the trees behind, Holly stepped into the hay field at the top of the ridge. The recently cut grass rose in a gentle incline. Mac followed close behind as Holly walked to the summit and studied the view before them.
The hay field continued for a short distance before again becoming forest, a carpet of green composed of white pine, red oak and silver and sugar maples. Far below the sun sparkled on the waters of Little Bear Creek, winding its way through the floor of the valley.
Mac came up beside her. The touch of his shoulder against hers sent an electric shock through her body.
“Holly.”
Holly focused on the mountains in the distance, covered in haze, and ignored the burn where his arm touched hers. “Hot today,” she said. “I can’t imagine sledding in weather like this, can you? I wonder if the kids—”
“Holly.” The gruffness in Mac’s voice brought her up short, but she refused to meet his eyes.
“Mac, I can’t—”
Mac reached out and pulled her closer. “The girl I knew didn’t have ‘can’t’ in her vocabulary.” He stroked her cheek with one finger. “Do you remember that day everybody was making hay and I found you along the lane?”
An odd mixture of dread and anticipation coursed through her body, igniting a curious sizzling in her veins. The moment seemed suspended in time—the buzzing bees, intense sunlight and the heavy scent of fresh-cut hay. And just like that, she was fifteen again, kneeling by the side of the lane when Mac had driven up and stopped next to her. Up until then she had kept her distance from Chris’s best friend, but this day everyone was at the farm working together to get the last cutting of hay before rain set in. He had gotten out of the truck.
Leaves crinkled underfoot and the smell of damp vegetation surrounded them.
“Do you know what these are?” Holly had looked into Mac’s smiling blue eyes as she cradled the delicate orange flower in her palm.
“Jewelweed?”
“My grandma called them touch-me-nots. She showed me this little trick. Look, this is cool.”
Holly had bent over the waist-high plants and motioned for Mac to come closer. Placing thumb and forefinger around a plump, delicate green seedpod, she had grabbed his hand. “Easy, just a little pinch.”
At their touch, the seedpod had burst open, scattering tiny ivory seeds on the ground, its insides curling into translucent bits of green matter. “See, didn’t that tickle your fingers?”
Laughing, Holly had turned to catch Mac’s expression but instead found him staring at her, his lips curved, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Mac?”
The tingle from the exploding seedpod had traveled up her arm and into her chest as she straightened and Mac placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He brushed back a dark tendril from her face. “You’re so cute, Holly.”
Holly had pulled her gaze from his and stared at the hay field on the other side of the small stream.
Mac had put a finger under her chin and gently pulled her around to face him again.
Blood had pounded in Holly’s ears, blocking out the sound of the farm equipment in the fields and the voices on the back porch. Her first kiss? With Mac? No way, no—
Mac’s lips had landed on hers like a butterfly on a finger. He had pulled back, his warm butterscotch-scented breath on her lips, until he tilted his head and returned—for more.
Holly had leaned forward, increasing the pressure, and touched his arms tentatively. Her fingers gripped his biceps beneath his shirtsleeves.
No boy had ever tried to kiss Holly Hoffman. Half of them were scared of her and the other half she had trounced in grade school. If they weren’t afraid of Holly, they were afraid of her older brothers. So when Mac McAndrews actually kissed her within shouting distance of her entire family, and despite the incident in eighth grade, Holly had been pleasantly surprised.
Holly’s eyes had remained closed as Mac had pulled away, and the scent of fresh hay and dry leaves filled her senses. Although the air had been cool and crisp, the sun warmed her skin.
“Holly?”
She opened her eyes. That wasn’t the sun warming her skin—Mac’s hand was on her arm. Like an observer, she waited as Mac leaned toward her, pulling her into an embrace. His lips brushed her
s.
The sizzling in her veins burst into flame and she wrapped her arms around Mac’s neck, drawing him closer as their kiss deepened, and she tasted the faint tang of elderberry wine on his lips. No more butterscotch, and she suddenly realized history was repeating itself, only now instead of being an innocent fifteen-year-old, she was a mature woman with responsibilities.
Holly pulled back. Mac looked as surprised as she was.
“Well.” Mac’s arms dropped to his sides and he backed up a step.
“Well.” Still immersed in the moment, Holly stared at the man in front of her. For a second, she thought she saw a flicker of guilt pass across his face. “It’s been a while.”
Mac grinned, his eyes squinting in the glare of the sun. “Ya think?”
“We should get back.” Holly started down the incline toward the woods. So far the day had not been one of her best.
But now? She cast a glance at Mac striding beside her. She should never have allowed the memory of their first kiss to intrude into the present and definitely never should have allowed this kiss. Her business demanded long hours, leaving little time for fun. Even with Mac.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TUESDAY MORNING HOLLY was inundated with customers, most of whom weren’t happy about returning to work after the long weekend. Despite their crankiness, Holly was relieved. She’d been worried that with the onset of summer, her business, and thus her revenues, would decline. Standing behind the espresso machine turning out drinks, Holly saw Mac at the counter. He gave her a wink before slipping out the door with a large coffee.
The rest of the week—the last week of school—continued to be busy and Holly had little time to think about Mac. Twice Moose Williams had filled the doorway as he scrutinized the customers in her store before buying a large coffee to go. Louise thought he was cute, which Holly found interesting. Louise hadn’t found anyone cute in a long time. The fact that she noticed the hulking, monosyllabic, barely-out-of-school police officer gave Holly some concern. Moose and Louise had nothing in common.
Friday afternoon the same group of teenagers entered the store and ordered frozen coffee drinks, all with an extra shot of espresso. Tempted to tell them they didn’t need so much caffeine, Holly was silenced with a warning look from Louise.
They carried their drinks to the alcove, where the girls occupied the window seat and the boys sat cross-legged on the large beanbag chairs. They leafed through magazines and the few comic books on the shelves.
“Well, at least they’re reading instead of on the internet.” Rose tilted her head toward the alcove, where only the two girls were visible. “I’m taking a break, dear.”
Just as she settled into a chair with a cup of coffee and a new paperback, Valerie and Chris showed up and joined her. Harley played with blocks on the rug, and Holly wiped off the tables.
“I like your place, Holly.” Valerie perched on the edge of the chair, her hand protectively on Harley’s head as she hung on to the low table.
“Thanks,” Holly said. “Carolyn did a lot of the decorating. Not my strong suit.”
Chris caught the toddler as she started across the floor.
“Why don’t you buy matching shirts for your staff? A cohesive look would set things off.”
Holly glanced at the blue sleeves of her air force T-shirt sticking out from the brown apron, then at Valerie’s ivory linen pants and silk shirt. “I haven’t given it much thought.”
“The baristas in the city do. It would give you an air of professionalism.”
“I suppose. I am kind of tired of the uniform thing, though.”
Valerie nodded. “I suppose.”
“We’re not exactly the big city, Val. We’re just simple folk.” Chris rolled his eyes as he picked up his daughter. Holly was about to call him on his attitude when an older woman with short blond hair with frosted tips came in and approached the counter. Holding tightly to her hand was a little girl clutching a quilt. Louise had disappeared into the kitchen.
“Duty calls.” Holly trotted behind the counter. “What would you like?” The woman looked familiar, but as with so many of her customers, Holly couldn’t place her. Ten years had passed since she’d spent any amount of time in town, and she had given up trying to match names with faces. If they knew her, they would say something.
“I’ll just have a cup of coffee. What can I get for my granddaughter? Do you have anything without caffeine?” The woman studied the menu board.
The girl pulled on her grandmother’s hand. “Can I have a latte?” A plastic hobbyhorse band held her fine blond hair in a high ponytail.
Holly laughed at her request. “You’re a little young for espresso, kid.”
The girl peered over the counter, frowning at Holly’s response.
Oh, boy, I’ve got to read up on communicating with the under-six crowd. “How about a fruit smoothie?”
When the girl spoke, Holly saw that she was missing her two front teeth. “Can I have strawberry banana?”
Before answering, Holly glanced at the older woman, who nodded. “Coming right up.”
“Erma, is that you?” Rose waved. “Come over here and have a seat.”
Holly returned the woman’s change and handed her a mug of coffee. “Go ahead. I’ll bring the smoothie over.”
Grabbing the blender, Holly watched the woman and her mother greet each other. Still the woman’s last name failed to come to mind. She shrugged and reached for the smoothie mix.
Then the girl began pulling paperbacks off the bookshelf and stacking them on the floor. “Mom.”
Her mother continued to talk.
“Mom.” She must have used the parade-ground voice because all three froze and stared at her. She motioned toward the child. “Can you ask her not to put the books on the floor?”
“Riley Anne, what on earth are you doing?” The grandmother knelt on the floor and replaced the books on the shelves. “You sit on the couch, young lady. You know better.”
Holly carried the smoothie over to Riley, who was sitting with her knees to her chest, thumb in her mouth. “Hey, here’s your strawberry-banana smoothie.” Holly set a napkin on the coffee table before putting the drink down. The child didn’t respond.
Holly returned to the work area and rinsed out the blender. Well, it wasn’t as if she’d lost a customer. Riley wouldn’t be drinking coffee for at least ten years. She set the blender upside down to drain and went into the kitchen to empty the dishwasher. By the time she returned, her mother’s acquaintance had set the empty cups on the counter and was at the door.
Erma motioned to the little girl. “Riley, let’s go. Thank the lady for the smoothie.”
With a backward glance at Holly, Riley ran to the door, then addressed Rose. “Bye. Thanks for the smoothie.” She shot past her grandmother and disappeared onto the porch.
Holly leaned on the counter by the cash register, watching the two walk past the front windows toward the bakery. “I don’t think she’s used to discipline.”
Rose leaned on the counter across from her. “It’s understandable, I suppose.”
Holly frowned and asked, “Is Erma a friend from school?”
Rose wrinkled her brow. “You haven’t been gone that long. You must remember Erma. We worked together at the hospital.”
“She does look familiar.”
Awareness lightening her eyes, Rose nodded. “That’s right. When you knew Erma, she weighed a good sixty pounds more. After she retired last year, she joined the gym. Working as a psych unit nurse had to be stressful and then she lost her husband at such a young age. Eating was probably her outlet. But she seems happier now, and she looks great, doesn’t she?”
“Attractive woman.” Holly tugged her mother’s sleeve. “So who is she?”
Rose laughed. “She’s M
ac’s mother, Erma McAndrews.”
A lump formed in the pit of her stomach. Knowing the answer before she asked the question, Holly asked anyway. “Then who’s the kid who pulled all the books off the shelves?”
Rose gave her a smile. “Mac’s daughter. She’s a little overactive, but she’s been cooped up in a car for five hours.”
When Holly was seventeen, she had run barrels on her horse, Twister, at the county fair. She’d kicked the gelding to go faster after the second barrel and the pair had raced for the third—except something happened as they came around. Her knee might have bumped the container, or Twister’s hoof... They never figured it out, but as the gelding rounded the final barrel, Holly’s feet had come completely out of the stirrups. She’d flown into the air and landed on her back in the soft dirt of the arena. The churned-up soil had saved her from broken bones, but the air whooshed out of her lungs, and she remembered lying there staring up at a summer blue sky wondering if she would ever breathe again.
That’s exactly how she felt now. Find time for fun? With Mac? Who was she kidding?
Holly’s heart sank into her toes. “I thought she lived with her grandparents in North Carolina.”
“Not anymore.” Rose smiled.
* * *
MAC PARKED THE patrol SUV in front of the bank. With school nearly over, high school and college graduations days away and the sudden onset of nice weather, the little town had been bustling. Moose had been called out for several fender benders and Mac had received word of stolen copper from a utility station just outside Harrisburg.
Despite the fact that Mac was only getting a few hours’ sleep each night, the busy week had oddly energized him. He knew he had Holly to thank. Monday was the best day he’d had since he’d come home. Maybe returning to Bear Meadows wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
Wanting to touch base with each of the other business owners, Mac had decided to save Holly for last. After he made sure she wasn’t missing anything, he had a question for her.
Wanted--The Perfect Mom Page 7
