Small-Town Hearts

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Meg shook her head, wiped down crumbs from the cookie station and crossed to the freezer. The walk-in unit had been last year’s capital expenditure and was worth its weight in gold, which was almost what the unit cost. “No idea.”

  “You didn’t ask?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Not my business.”

  Hannah stopped filling the half-pound boxes of pecan caramel turtles, a big seller regardless of the season. “Meg, he told you outright he was staying around awhile.”

  “And?”

  Hannah made a knocking motion against the counter with her left hand. “Um, hello? Opportunity calling? Sorry we missed you.”

  Meg sent her a scowl that was only half pretend. “Opportunity has knocked before, remember? And I answered. Big mistake. Crashed and burned. Do the words ‘public spectacle’ come to mind?”

  Hannah’s gaze softened. “You’re blowing things out of proportion, Meg.”

  “Am I?” Meg turned, not sure that she was ready to face this conversation but not seeing an easy way out. “Are you forgetting that fiancé number one cheated on me and got another girl pregnant?”

  “Which says a lot about his lack of character, not yours. He was totally unworthy of you and you know it.”

  Meg had heard that before, and had almost come to believe it when in came Michael, fiancé number two. What on Earth had she been thinking? Was she that much in love with the idea of being in love? Or just totally naive?

  “Let’s not forget Michael.”

  “No, please, let’s forget Michael.” Hannah mock-shuddered, her expression underscoring her words. “Yes, he was funny and charismatic, but he had no work ethic and little pretense of faith, and didn’t Alyssa Michaels tell you he just got fired from his latest job because he failed to show up, time after time? Were you thinking you could fix that? Fix him? Not hardly.”

  “You’re right, I know that, it’s just…” Megan grimaced and shrugged. Her friend Alyssa had made it a point to call her and fill her in on Michael’s newest gaffe, showcasing how undependable he was. Why hadn’t she noticed that sooner? “Obviously I’m either too needy or gullible. Maybe both. Very honestly, the thought of putting myself out there again scares me to death.”

  “I know.”

  Something in Hannah’s soft tone said she understood too much. A hint of sadness shadowed her eyes, her gaze, then disappeared as she moved forward to hug Meg. “But I also know that you befriended me when I moved here. I knew no one, I had no family in this area, and you reached out to me. Talked to me. You brought God’s peace into my life at a time when I needed it, Meg. I want to be able to do the same for you.”

  Meg returned the embrace, grateful for the connection. Alyssa had been nudging her much the same way, but taking those first steps seemed harder than she’d have ever thought possible.

  Hannah stepped back, eyed the clock and gave a low whistle. “And on that very emotional note, I’ve got to fly if I want to get the library open by three.”

  Meg nodded and grabbed her hand. “Hannah. Thanks.”

  Hannah shrugged. “Hey, we’re girls. Been there, done that. Girlfriends have to stick together. And sometimes give one another a well-meaning push.”

  “Which means I get to do the same for you sometime?”

  Hannah waved a hand in the air as she headed for the door. “Right now we’re talking about you, not me. See ya.”

  Meg grinned at her retreating back. Noting that Ben was still out back with the late-afternoon renewed antics of the finch families, she began unpacking ice cream counter supplies when the phone rang, a welcome interruption from errant happily-ever-after thoughts.

  “Colonial Candy Kitchen, Meg speaking. How can I help you?”

  “Meg, this is Jacqui Crosby.”

  Okay, make that was glad of the interruption. Meg was never too thrilled to chat with fiancé number one’s intrusive mother. “Jacqui, how are you?”

  “Frazzled and frantic, totally out of character for me, as you well know.”

  Meg knew no such thing. Jacqui Crosby was a town gossip, one of those people who could be counted on to spread information with hawklike speed, always watching and sharpening her tongue at others’ expense. Meg asked, “Well, good chocolate is always a cure for that. What can I get for you?”

  “Oh, I don’t want chocolate,” Jacqui shot back, her tone hiking. “I’m doing a high-protein diet to stay in shape for summer. Of course, you don’t have to pay attention to that with your long dresses, do you, dear?”

  One, two, three…

  “What I’m calling about is your apartment. I’d like to rent it.”

  Her apartment?

  Meg frowned. The second floor of her house held two apartments: cute, clean and in good shape after years of plaster dust, plumbing and paint. She lived in one and rented the other. Her most recent tenants had moved out in mid-May after graduating from Meg’s alma mater, Alfred University. But why would Jacqui Crosby want her apartment, and how on Earth could Meg tell her no?

  “Brad and Denise are having a house built outside of Hornell,” Jacqui continued. “Their old place is too small with the new baby on the way and they need a place to stay for the summer. My kitchen’s being redone and you know what a mess remodeling is, so there’s no way I can have Brad Junior running around underfoot for eight weeks. How much is the rent?”

  Brad and Denise, staying next door all summer, with the little boy they conceived while she wore Brad’s ring?

  “Jacqui, I’m sorry, it’s not available. And it’s a small unit,” Meg added. “It wouldn’t suit them.”

  “Oh, but it would,” the older woman insisted. “I expect they’d do nothing more than sleep there, Megan, and spend the days over here while Brad worked.”

  Megan had heard enough of the local gossip to know Denise wasn’t a big fan of Jacqui’s interfering nature. There was no chance the young mother would spend day after day at the Crosbys while Brad worked. No, she’d be here, hanging out, a visible reminder of what kind of girl actually got the guy in the end. And it wasn’t the petticoat-wearing business woman with a candy store. Oh, no. It was the blond fashion doll sporting tight jeans, tight shirts and no job.

  Nope. Not going to happen. “I’m sorry, Jacqui, it’s not possible and I’ve got to go. I’ve got chocolate on.”

  “But—”

  But nothing. Meg recradled the phone, realized she’d been just short of rude and vowed to scan the caller ID more carefully in the future. Regardless, no way, no how was she about to rent her next-door apartment to Brad and Denise, but Brad’s mother kept her fingers on the town pulse, and Meg’s ad in the weekly paper was hitting the stands today. She could only pray for a quick lease before Jacqui realized she’d been played, because that possible scenario wouldn’t bode well for anyone.

  Danny scanned the day-old classified list, frowned and headed back to his rental car. He climbed in, started the engine, studied the map and his directions from Google, missing the GPS on his Beemer but not willing to have his car mark him as a man with money.

  Making a K-turn, he headed south and west to view this last apartment. With any luck, he might be able to move in tomorrow. Get established. That would be perfect.

  His phone jangled the opening notes to “My Boy Lollipop,” his sister’s signature ringtone, an inside joke among the Romesser clan. They’d agreed to use candy songs to identify themselves, including Grandma Mary, making the quirk totally childish but fun. Danny hit the speakerphone button, in no mood for a traffic ticket for not being hands free. “Hey, sis. What’s up?”

  “Can we change places?”

  He bit back the phrase in a heartbeat, wanting to help her. But he couldn’t, and that cut into his protective instincts. “What’s going on?”

  “Trouble in Philly at the University City location.”

  Ouch. That particular Philly store had been problematic lately; a string of small thefts and possible gang influence had t
argeted their location adjacent to the University of Pennsylvania campus. “Do we need additional security?”

  “Done. I amped up the internal monitoring and didn’t tell the staff, but I feel like a spy, watching them like this.”

  “All it takes is one bad apple, Mary Clare. One dishonest person can totally ruin your bottom line and set a store up for failure. You know that.”

  “You’re right, of course, it’s just a weird feeling. The security agency will be doing the hands-on video scan so I feel slightly less intrusive.”

  Danny understood the dilemma. Security was an unfortunate necessity, more so in certain locales, and Mary Clare hadn’t overseen those venues as yet. Time and circumstance had gotten in the way. He broached that subject cautiously. “Are you doing okay, Mare?”

  “Mostly.”

  Danny cringed, wanting to help, knowing there was nothing he could do.

  “I’m keeping busy. Working here actually helps, it keeps me away from places that Christian and I used to go to. A few degrees of separation isn’t a bad thing right now.”

  “And you know you can call me anytime, right?” Danny was stating the obvious since she’d just called, but her vulnerability called to the guardian in him. Plus Philly had been dealing with an upswing in violent crimes lately, not exactly the setting he’d normally choose for his younger sister. “About anything.”

  “I know.” She breathed a tiny sigh and hesitated for long ticks of the clock before adding, “This is good for me.”

  Danny heard the silent exception. “But?”

  “It’s hard.”

  “I know.” They’d buried her fiancé less than a year before, an army officer killed in a roadside bombing in Afghanistan. “I miss him, too.”

  “He’d get a kick out of you being tucked in the foothills of Appalachia. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. But no more so than my friends who make it a point to text me about their weekend plans in the big city.”

  “Harsh.”

  Danny laughed. “It’s pretty here, though.” The word pretty conjured up mental images of Megan Russo. Danny shut them out. “And if you’re doing okay, and it sounds like you are, I’ve got to hang up because I’m about to look at an apartment that sounds ideal.”

  “Wonderful. Thanks for being my sounding board. Again.”

  He smiled, wanting her to succeed, knowing he’d be there at a moment’s notice to help if she floundered, because that was what brothers did. “Anytime, sis.”

  Chapter Four

  Twenty minutes later Danny trudged back to his car, totally frustrated, fighting a headache and a suspicion he might be infested. The state of that garage apartment left a lot to be desired, and he was pretty sure he’d spied a colony of silver-fish beneath the sink, while the faint but lingering smell of a dead mouse wafted from a west-facing wall.

  At this moment the motel he’d booked for the night was looking better and better.

  He stopped to gas up and withdrew a fresh edition of the small weekly paper from a rack inside the convenience store, pleasantly surprised when the cashier waved off the two-quarter price. “We just give them away, sir. You have a nice day, now.”

  The young man’s easy nature brightened Danny’s smile. And the giveaway policy was good business for advertisers. He pulled into a parking space, opened the half size newspaper, noted a full-page ad advertising an upcoming balloon rally and mentally logged in the date.

  His grandfather had been a hot air balloon pilot, and he’d taught Danny the skills early on. If all went well and time allowed, Danny had every intention of having his balloon trucked down to Allegany County. Taking part in the local ballooning event would be his reward for a job well done.

  He flipped back a few pages and scanned the classifieds for new listings. Most were long-term apartments or homes, but his gaze trained on one advertisement. “Available now, immaculate one-bedroom, full bath, galley kitchen, furnished, priced right, short-or long-term lease considered.”

  He withdrew his phone, got a clear tone and dialed the number, hopeful.

  “Hello.”

  “Good evening, my name is Daniel Graham and I’m calling about your ad in the paper. The one for the immaculate one-bedroom apartment. Is it still available? And is it really, truly immaculate? Because I’d be okay with that.”

  Silence. Absolute, utter silence.

  Danny tried again. “Hello?” He pulled the phone from his ear, saw the bars that said he was still connected and frowned. “Hello? Are you there?”

  A sigh echoed through the phone. “I’m here. I…umm…”

  “I can get references if you like,” Danny offered, trying to sweeten the deal. “I’m in town on business this summer and need a place to stay, so I’m looking at short-term. Eight to twelve weeks, most likely. Would that be all right?”

  Another silence descended before he heard another sigh, but there was something about that soft sigh, that voice…

  Obviously he needed food and a good night’s sleep when he started recognizing a stranger’s voice on the phone. “May I come see it?”

  “Now?”

  “I’m available. It’s in Jamison?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I’m just around the corner on Route 19. Can you give me the address? If this is a good time, of course,” he hastened to add, realizing he was steamrolling the woman. The first thing he’d decided upon arriving in town was that these people weren’t the kind to appreciate hardball tactics. New York, Boston, Baltimore, Philly… Those venues admired a guy who got the job done with as few words and left turns as possible.

  Here? Not so much.

  He pressed more gently. “If tomorrow would be better…”

  “Now’s fine.”

  Relief eased the tightness of his shoulders. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Come on by.”

  “But where are you? What’s the address?”

  “Oh, you’re sure to find it, no problem. You were here just a few hours ago.”

  He was—

  “Miss Russo?”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t sound thrilled. Perhaps a touch resigned or fatalistic, as if life had just handed her a worst-case scenario.

  Which would be the case if he put her and her cute little store out of business. But he couldn’t think about that now. Surely there were prime locations far enough away from her store that their ventures could coexist. Wellsville was a good bit south. And it was a tribute store they were talking, not one of their sprawling big-city venues. Down here they were envisioning a smaller edition, a nod of thanks to the hometown of Grandma Mary’s Candies, now a multi-million-dollar-per-year enterprise. A welcome addition to the struggling economy.

  But Danny was fresh out of choices, so he swallowed the nugget of guilt and thrust the car into gear. “I’m on my way.”

  “Wonderful.” She didn’t sound like she thought it was all that wonderful, but at least she was open to the idea of showing him the place. And it couldn’t be as bad as what he’d just seen. Could it?

  “The entrance to the apartment is around back. I’ll be there.”

  “See you in a few minutes.”

  Megan clipped her hair back, smoothed damp palms against her blue jeans and headed downstairs at a quick clip. He must have really been just around the corner because his car pulled into the small parking area as she opened the door. He climbed out, a lightweight zip-up jacket giving him an upper-class look that didn’t exactly jibe with his discount-label jeans and pullover. He strode forward, looking just as good as he had short hours before, sunglasses hiding his eyes until he stood two steps beneath her, tipped the glasses up and gave her a once-over. “Wow.”

  While she appreciated the one-word observation, she’d been “wowed” before, only to crash in total ignominy. She met his gaze, stomped down the spike of her heartbeat and jerked her head toward the back door. “The apartment’s up here.”

  “I’m right behind you
.”

  Oh, she knew that, all right. It was written on his face and evident in the sparks jumping between them, but she’d learned to evade electricity. She ignored the hint of appreciation in his voice but noted it was just enough to make the tone almost meaningful. Too much labeled a guy a total come-on. Too little meant he was probably inept and needy. Danny’s voice was neither. It was…perfect.

  But she had no use for men passing through town on business. Since she’d become the head of the Jamison Broken Hearts Society, membership of one, she’d grown smart enough to be jaded without appearing jaded. A good trick.

  “It’s small,” she told him over her shoulder.

  “Small works. It’s easier to keep clean.”

  She stepped inside the upper door. “This is it. Living room, kitchen, bedroom, bath.”

  He nodded, his gaze scanning the area, his emotions shielded. She couldn’t tell if he liked or hated the place, and that meant he had practice hiding emotions. Not a good sign. He stepped inside, moved forward, then paused overlong. “It’s spotless.”

  She frowned. “I do believe the ad mentioned that.”

  He turned and flashed a grin that made her heart quiver and her gut tingle, two physical reactions she’d just as soon chalk up to lack of iron. She was definitely in danger of being swept away by that smile. Those eyes. And great teeth, besides. Her mother was a dental hygienist in the lone dental office in Wellsville. She’d fall in love with those teeth, right off.

  “It did. But the last one I looked at said ‘clean’ and it wasn’t even close. I’ll take it.”

  “You don’t want to know the rent?”

  “If it’s too high, I’ll wrangle it down. But somehow, since it’s you, I’m expecting the price will be fair.”

  Of course it was fair. She would never consider bilking someone out of too much money for her own gain, or conniving her way into anything. For just a moment she lamented the idea of being good, of taking God’s word to heart and soul, and considered smacking him with an outrageous price so he’d take his appreciative gaze and business-savvy self elsewhere. She hesitated, wishing she could do that, knowing she couldn’t. “Six hundred a month. Plus utilities.”