The Boss's Bride (The Heart of Main Street)

by Minton, Brenda

  “I’ll hold down the fort here.”

  He smiled back at her as he walked away. “Thanks.”

  He headed for the Cozy Cup Café and the coffee he’d been thinking about for the past few hours, since he’d emptied the pot of pretty bad coffee he’d made earlier in the day.

  As he passed the Fluff & Stuff pet store, Chase Rollins stepped out. The guy was nearly as tall as Patrick.

  “Patrick, has it been a good day for you?”

  “Really good, Chase. People didn’t realize what we had here in town. I think it’s a great way to show them.”

  Chase nodded and looked down the street. “I heard some of the locals talking when I ran over to The Everything to grab lunch. Velma settled things, told them the new stores are good for the community, but some of them think the town doesn’t need coffee shops and pet stores.”

  Patrick had heard the same grumblings from time to time. “I guess there are going to be those people, Chase. But in time I think they’ll start to accept us as part of the community. When they see that this is where we want to live and that we want to be a part of helping build a stronger town.”

  “I hope you’re right. I guess I’m on the outside a little.”

  Patrick started to invite Chase to church but he wasn’t going to push. “You might as well join us working on Opal Parker’s house a few blocks over. We’re going to patch up the roof in a week or so.”

  “I might do that. Thanks, Patrick.” Chase pointed toward the This ’N’ That. “Here comes Ann Mars, a woman with a mission.”

  “She stays busier than any woman I know.”

  “I don’t know, Gracie Wilson seems to have her beat.” Chase gave him a quick look and a smile. “She’s something else.”

  “Ann?”

  “Gracie.”

  Fortunately Ann had reached them and Patrick didn’t have to answer the question Chase hadn’t really asked.

  “You boys look like trouble.” Ann looked up at them. “And I get a catch in my neck looking up at you.”

  Patrick smiled at the older woman in her floral dress and orthopedic shoes. “Ann, you know we don’t cause trouble.”

  She cackled at that. “Of course you don’t. Why don’t you walk with me, Patrick? I haven’t checked in on you lately and I also haven’t seen the displays the schoolkids set up.”

  He offered her his arm. “I’d love to walk with you.”

  Coffee could wait. He and Ann walked down the sidewalk and crossed Bronson Avenue. The school fund-raisers were set up on tables just down from the Cozy Cup Café. Maybe he’d get that coffee after all.

  “There’s Coraline.” Ann tightened her grip on his arm and he could tell she was getting tired. “She retired but it didn’t slow her down at all.”

  “She does stay busy.” He spotted Coraline. She was talking to a few ladies who were standing behind the tables.

  He and Ann slowed to look at a display of candles. The woman behind the table explained how much money would go to the school. Patrick didn’t really need candles, but it was for a good cause.

  “You can always give the candles to Gracie,” Ann Mars offered as she ordered two candles for herself. “A girl always likes a nice candle. I think Gracie would like the cinnamon-apple scent.”

  “Thanks, Ann.” He shook his head as he placed the order, pulling money from his pocket to pay. “I think.”

  “You should thank me. I know what I’m doing.”

  He was sure she did. But the question remained, what was he doing? A few months ago Ann Mars and Coraline Connolly had brought him the perfect employee. Gracie Wilson knew her way around the hardware store. She had the ability to build a cabinet or sand a table. She could install a light fixture or fix a plumbing problem. She charmed his customers with her easy smile and ability to laugh.

  Now he had to figure out how she’d become more than just the perfect employee and what exactly he planned to do about it. He guessed the first step would be finding out what she felt about him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The house Gracie had grown up in smelled of roast beef, potatoes and warm bread. The lovely aroma was a cover-up for the big mess her dad and brothers had made of the house since she moved out. She’d never seen it like this, with dust on the tables, dirty socks scattered around the living room and tea glasses left on coffee tables. She looked around the living room, disgusted by the mess. Who lived like this?

  Oh, she knew—her dad and the brothers who still lived at home. Namely Evan. She blamed herself. She should have made him pick up after himself. She should have taught him to cook. Instead she’d picked up after him, washed his clothes and told him what to wear when he went on dates.

  Being free from taking care of men had been a dream come true. But she missed it. She missed the rowdy meals, the last-minute farm chores. She missed home.

  Not enough to move back, though. Being on her own meant discovering who she was without one of the Wilson men always looking over her shoulder and supervising her choices.

  “What are you doing in here?” Her brother Jason walked through the front door. He stomped his feet to clean mud off his shoes and then jerked off the boots he’d worn out to the barn.

  “Take your shoes off outside.”

  “Since when do you tell us to take off our shoes?” He opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. From outside he yelled, “Seriously, isn’t that what the broom is for?”

  She knew he was teasing but it made her mad anyway. “I no longer clean up after you guys.”

  “Right, and you miss it.” He stepped back inside, his feet bare.

  “You need a wife.”

  “You should have been married by now.” He opened his mouth and she knew he was about to apologize for the joke. “Sis…”

  “No, do not say you’re sorry for joking. I’m ready to get back to joking and laughing. I don’t want everyone worrying that they’ll say the wrong thing. It’s been almost a month.”

  “That isn’t very long, Grace.”

  “I know.” She picked up a couple of dirty glasses. “But I really am okay.”

  Jason picked up some dirty dishes. “Sorry about the mess. So, Dad said Patrick Fogerty is going to be here for lunch.”

  “Yes, and try not to say anything stupid.”

  “I’m not going to say anything to him. But I kind of wondered if the two of you were dating.”

  “Of course we aren’t.”

  “Gotcha. Wishing?”

  She pushed past him without answering and headed for the kitchen. “See if you can dust off the dining-room table so we can eat there.”

  “Will do.”

  “Do you know where Dad is? He left church when I did.” Gracie peeked back in the dining room. Jason had grabbed a towel off the back of a chair and was wiping the table.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Dusting?” He held the towel up for her to see.

  “That’s a bath towel.” She shuddered. “Single men are pigs.”

  “Most of the time. But if we don’t have a woman here to tell us we’re pigs, what does it matter? Remember, if a tree falls in the woods…”

  Gracie looked heavenward and headed back to the kitchen. “I give up.”

  “Hey, does Patrick know you can’t cook?” Jason shouted from the dining room.

  The front door banged shut.

  “He’ll figure that out.” A voice called out from the living room. Patrick’s voice.

  Jason walked into the kitchen carrying the dirty towel and a few more dirty dishes. He grinned and she grabbed the sprayer hose on the sink and silently threatened to turn on the water. He backed away still grinning.

  Patrick walked through the doorway from the dining room with her younger brother, E
van. Gracie let go of the sprayer and smiled, but her insides were Jell-O, so her bravery was just pretend. Evan and Jason left. Patrick stood in the center of the big, country kitchen with the harvest-gold appliances and white linoleum floors.

  Gracie looked around, unsure of what to do or say. She’d never had so many unsure moments in her life as she’d had in the past month.

  “Would you like tea?” She reached into the cabinet for a glass.

  Patrick grinned and she needed more than a glass of tea to distract her.

  “That would be great.” He walked to the sink and turned on the water. As she fixed his glass of tea, he washed his hands. “Your dad is here.”

  “Is he?” She pulled the tea pitcher out of the fridge. “I don’t know where he went after church.”

  Patrick continued to watch out the window. Gracie studied him from behind, the plaid shirt over broad shoulders, the dark hair cut short. Her boss. She needed to remember that, to not make things more complicated. For a long time she’d tried to tell herself he was kind and decent, he was attractive, and that was all there was to their relationship.

  Now she knew better. She knew that she had fallen in love with him. Where did that leave her? She sighed and he moved, drawing her attention back to his face.

  “He has someone with him.” He took the glass of tea and the pitcher from her hands. He placed the pitcher on the counter and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

  “Someone?”

  “A woman.” He leaned down to whisper.

  Her dad had brought a woman to Sunday lunch? This was how people moved on. Her dad had been alone for almost fifteen years. For the first time in all of those years, he was bringing a woman home to meet his family.

  Gracie knew that it was time. So why did it hurt to think about her dad with someone else?

  “Okay, a woman.” She took a deep breath. “It’s about time.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She smiled up at him. “Yes, I’m good.”

  She wanted to tell him she was ready to move on. Maybe it hadn’t taken her months or years, but her heart hadn’t been shattered by loss. Her dad’s heart had been broken to the point that it had taken years to mend.

  Her heart had been misused. And now her heart was reaching out, wanting to find real love. Too soon?

  “The roast smells good,” he offered with another smile, this one teasing.

  “You’re wondering if it’s edible.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  The front door banged and a few minutes later her dad was in the kitchen holding the hand of the lovely widow Wilma Duggins. Wilma smiled a shy smile.

  “Gracie, I hope you don’t mind that Jake invited me to have lunch with you all.” Wilma smiled at Gracie’s dad, and Gracie couldn’t remember the last time someone called him Jake. To everyone in town he was Jacob Wilson.

  “Of course I don’t mind.”

  Gracie managed a smile. She had meant it. She didn’t mind. But it would take a little more to come to terms with the changes taking place in her life, even in her heart.

  Patrick watched Gracie as her dad and his new friend left the kitchen. Gracie’s brother Jason escaped and headed out the back door. From the window Patrick saw him join two of the other brothers, who were walking up from the barn. Jacob Wilson dating seemed to be a pretty big deal.

  “Can I help set the table?” Patrick offered, walking up behind Gracie as she pulled the roast from the oven.

  “Do you mind?” She set the roast on the counter and reached to open the cabinet. He tried, because he was a gentleman, to ignore the way her pretty red dress slid up her legs when she reached.

  He cleared his throat and she dropped to her heels again and looked at him.

  “I can get those,” he offered, because the plates were out of her reach.

  “I’m sure you can. So can I. When I lived at home, I kept them on the counter.” She had her hands on the counter behind her and she hopped up, landing with ease.

  From her seat on the counter, she reached the plates and handed them to him. The two of them were nearly eye level. She smiled at him and pink climbed from her neck to her cheeks.

  “Very resourceful,” he whispered as he stepped close.

  “I’m used to doing what I have to, Patrick. I’ve been climbing up to these cabinets most of my life.”

  “Did you ever think of getting a step stool?” He smiled as he said it and she laughed.

  At the back of his mind, he knew to pull back, to keep this from going too far. Instead he gave in. He set the stack of plates on the counter and moved in front of her. He brushed a hand through her hair and as he did she leaned forward, her hands settling on his shoulders.

  “I really should know better,” he whispered just before his lips touched hers. He didn’t know better, obviously. He knew that no other woman had ever made him forget his good sense. No other woman had ever made him want to think about white picket fences and a minivan full of kids.

  The back door opened. He pulled away, and when he did she wiped her finger across his lips. She smiled a sweet smile.

  “You don’t look good in that shade of red,” she whispered.

  “I’ll try to remember that.”

  Her brother Jason stomped back into the house. “Hey, are we going to eat today?”

  Jason stopped and stared at them, shook his head and walked out of the room. Evan, Daniel and Caleb came in next. The Wilson brothers were all dark haired, tall and built like men who had worked hard all their lives. Patrick wouldn’t want to tangle with any of them. Which was why he stepped away from Gracie and let her hop to the ground. He still held her hand and she gave his fingers a last squeeze before letting go.

  “Time to eat.” She smiled up at him as she grabbed a serving platter out of a lower cabinet.

  Thirty minutes later Patrick sat back at the dining- room table surrounded by Wilsons who were obviously curious about his relationship with their sister. Fortunately they left him alone and instead asked Wilma Duggins twenty questions about her son in Afghanistan.

  “The roast was dry,” Gracie said, leaning in to whisper.

  He didn’t want to agree, but Evan heard and answered.

  “Dry? Sis, the Sahara is dry. Arizona is dry. That roast was beyond dry.”

  “Thanks, Evan.” She wadded up a napkin and threw it at him.

  “So, Patrick.” Caleb Wilson addressed him, grinning. “You’re the rebound man?”

  “Caleb, enough.” Jacob cleared his throat. “Remember that we have guests. And let’s give Gracie a break. She offered to cook us lunch and we’re not going to complain.”

  “Does that mean we can question you?” Jason laughed as he aimed the question at his dad.

  “You can clear the table and do the dishes.” Jacob stood. “Wilma and I are going to town.”

  Patrick watched as the family dispersed. He’d grown up in a much smaller family with parents who rarely communicated. Sunday dinners together had been a rare thing. The Wilsons, all grown but still close to one another and to their father, stood and started clearing the table.

  Gracie moved next to him. Suddenly she was out of her seat and he had to hurry to catch up. He followed her outside, catching up with her as she went down the front steps.

  “Gracie.”

  She shook her head and kept walking. Patrick reached for her arm and she stopped. She didn’t turn to face him. He walked up behind her, stopping with his hands on her arms.

  “I’m sorry.” She shivered in the cool air of late September. Patrick ran his hands up her arms and pulled her back against him. “It’s too much.”

  “What’s too much?”

  “My dad moving on. You.”

  “Me?”

  “I’m not sure what
to do, Patrick. A month ago I was getting married.” She turned to face him. “I don’t know what I feel. What if you are…?”

  “The rebound?” He didn’t know what else to say.

  “I don’t know. I look at my dad finally moving on after fifteen years. And my heart is already trying to move on.”

  “I think your story and your dad’s are completely different.”

  “Maybe.”

  He lifted her chin with his finger and leaned down to kiss her lightly. “I understand. You need time, Gracie. Time to live on your own. Time to figure out what you want and who you want.”

  Maybe they both needed to step back and take time.

  He’d never been the man who rushed into things, and the fact that he wanted to rush straight into a relationship with the woman he’d found just a month ago crying, still in her wedding dress, was maybe something he should think about.

  “You should go home.” She touched his cheek.

  “Maybe I should.” He kissed her and then walked away, looking back once to see her still standing where he’d left her.

  When he drove into town a few minutes later, he stopped at The Everything to put gas in his truck and to buy a gallon of milk. Velma was at the register. She looked up from her book when he walked through the door.

  “Hey, didn’t you have lunch at the Wilson place today?” Velma dog-eared the page of her book, closed it and shoved it under the counter. Obviously she found his life more interesting than the romance novel she’d been reading.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Why do you look so glum, then?”

  “I didn’t realize I looked glum.” He walked back to the cooler, got his milk and headed back to the register. Velma was situated on her stool, waiting.

  “Maybe not glum. Maybe confused. It’s like that when you fall in love. And a man your age should know that. Have you been living under a rock?”

  Laughter took him by surprised. “No, but I haven’t spent a lot of time on relationships.”

  “This took you by surprise, then?”

  Okay, the ball was obviously in her court. “I guess it did. But I think it also took Gracie by surprise.”