by Susan Meier
“Sounds like a barrel of laughs.”
“That’s the point. It wasn’t. I’m not a good person to live with. She was always upset with me because no matter how hard I worked at being a good partner I failed because it doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m selfish. I’m stubborn. I don’t remember birthdays. I don’t bring flowers. I leave socks and towels on the floor.”
Rayne laughed in spite of herself.
“You’re way too nice for me to hurt you, Rayne.”
This time tears filled her eyes, but she quickly blinked them back. “You’re the only person in town who thinks I’m nice and the only damned person in town I wished didn’t.”
“Too late.”
He smiled again and Rayne’s chest contracted with pain. She didn’t know why she responded to him. She had no clue why he responded to her. But their chemistry was killing her and she knew what she had to do.
“Yeah, well, I’m leaving town anyway.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
She shook her head. “Your dad wishes I wouldn’t. You’re going to be glad to see me go.”
He swallowed and rose from the seat across from her. “Not really. I think we could have been good friends.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that our future spouses would love that.”
“You don’t have to worry about seeing me with a future spouse. I told you. I’m not marriage material.”
She smiled sadly. “Right. One of these days a pretty little girl who doesn’t come with a boatload of trouble is going to sweep you off your feet and you’ll forget all about the fact that you once liked me.”
He shook his head. “I doubt it.”
They stared into each other’s eyes, as silence reigned, broken only by the tick of the old clock in her dad’s office. His voice was so soft and sincere she had no doubt he genuinely regretted that they couldn’t have a relationship.
“I’ve gotta go.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, go.”
“Let me know if you have any luck with your job search.”
“Nah. No point.”
“So one day the paper’s just going to stop coming?”
She almost said, “What difference does it make?” Instead she said, “I’ll print a farewell edition.”
“I still think it’s wrong for you to leave town. What about your plan to keep the paper open so that your dad has something to come back to?”
Rayne didn’t reply. She pretended to be focused on proofing the hard copy of an article she had written about a church bake sale and eventually he turned and walked out of her office, through the back room, out the door and out of her life.
And Rayne dropped the paper she had been pretending to read. She let her eyes fill with tears. Her dad didn’t want to come back. He hadn’t even called to let her know he was okay. Not even on Thanksgiving. Christmas was fast approaching and she had nowhere to go. No friend who would refuse to let her spend the holiday in an empty house. No aunt, uncle or cousin who wanted her company. No Dad. No Mom.
It was time to get a life and she wasn’t going to find one in Calhoun Corners. She had to leave.
Chapter Seven
Jobs were not as easy to come by as they had been when Rayne had first graduated from college. Every newspaper to which she applied had entry-level positions, but no mid-level. Luckily, even the most stubborn Calhoun Corners business owners began buying ads again, and everybody in town bought space in the paper to wish subscribers Merry Christmas. She was so busy that out of habit she fell back into wearing jeans and sweatshirts, and nobody seemed to notice or care. By the time January first rolled around, Rayne’s bills were paid. She had food on her table. And her life seemed to have settled into a sort of routine.
Stomping the snow off her boots as she entered the diner the second Monday in January, she noticed Jericho sitting at a booth in the back and she waved to him.
“Good morning, Chief,” she said, just as if she were any other Calhoun Corners resident because that was another thing that had settled in. She and Jericho had gotten comfortable saying hello. She hadn’t tried her luck on an entire conversation, but if she was forced to stay in Calhoun Corners for any length of time, she couldn’t avoid him forever. She also recognized that talking to him wasn’t going to be easy.
She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told him that some sweet young woman would sweep him off his feet. He was a handsome man with integrity. What woman wouldn’t want him? And when the day came that somebody did catch his eye, Rayne had to be able to more than handle it. She had to be able to pretend she’d never had feelings for him and she was thrilled he’d found somebody. Or she’d forever be known as the spinster newspaper owner in love with the chief of police who didn’t love her.
“Morning, Rayne,” Elaine said as Rayne walked to the counter. “I have got the best idea for you.”
“Really? Because all I came in for was coffee.”
Elaine laughed. “You’re such a kidder. You got the sense of humor everybody wished your dad would have had.”
Accustomed to people making comments about her missing father, sometimes even derogatory comments, Rayne didn’t react.
Elaine handed her a takeout container of coffee. “When I was at my sister’s in Phoenix over the holidays, we went to a little diner for breakfast and they had place mats with advertising on them.”
“Lots of restaurants do that, but there’s no market for it here.” Remembering Bert’s reason for not even wanting to advertise in the newspaper anymore, she added, “This is a small town and everybody knows where the diner and hardware store are. There’s no need to advertise what customers can see just by looking out the diner window.”
“True, but if you went over a town, you could probably persuade those businesses to advertise here and I could get free place mats.”
“You want me to sell advertising to businesses the next town over, so you can get free place mats?”
“And you could earn about five hundred dollars a month, if you did a new place mat every month.”
“How do you think Bert’s going to like that?”
“Bert advertises on a place mat in Olympia.”
Rayne looked at her. “Are you kidding?”
Jericho came to the counter to pay. Handing his receipt and a five dollar bill to Elaine, he said, “I’ve seen it, too. When I was driving to Richmond on Route 64 once, I stopped for coffee and saw that Bert had his phone number in an ad on a place mat in a diner just off the interstate. I figured he had it there in case somebody broke down and was looking for a part he might have.”
He turned and smiled at her, and Rayne’s heart skipped a beat. She knew he didn’t want the paper to close for the town’s sake. His information was nothing but objective and impersonal, but any time he looked at her she melted.
“That makes sense.”
“And it also makes sense for you to branch out.” Jericho took his change from Elaine and pocketed the coins. “This might be the way to bring back your advertising salesman and potentially expand the number of ads you get in the paper.”
“Wow, Jericho,” Elaine said. “You’re really good at this.”
“Just trying to keep our paper in town,” Jericho said, then slid his Stetson on his head. He caught Rayne’s gaze again. “Every week it looks better, Rayne.”
With that he walked out of the diner and Rayne stared after him. Forgetting about Elaine standing behind the counter, she watched him walk across the street and to the borough building.
“Remember when I told you that I thought you liking him was reaching for the stars?”
Rayne laughed, then faced Elaine. “Yes.”
“Well, I changed my mind. Now that things have calmed down for his dad and Jericho himself has settled in, I think your hooking up is just a matter of timing.”
“Not a chance.”
“Maybe if you’d get rid of the glasses again and break out some of those pretty sweaters you were wearing around Thanksgiving,
things would be different?”
Not about to tell Elaine she had tried that and failed, Rayne chuckled. “Right.”
“Oh, come on, Rayne. Humor an old woman. At least give it a try.”
“To amuse you?”
“Calhoun Corners is a dull town at best. In the winter, we’re downright boring. Put your contacts in and get out that raspberry colored sweater and see what happens.”
“You’re nuts.”
“It would probably help you sell advertising in the nearby towns if you went there looking like somebody with pizzazz.”
“I have plenty of pizzazz.”
“Not in that sweatshirt.” Elaine smiled crookedly. “Please?”
Suddenly recognizing that Elaine might not be making the suggestion for Rayne to dress better to snag Jericho as much as to sell advertising so Elaine would get free place mats, Rayne sighed. “We’ll see.”
But the next morning she dressed in her raspberry sweater and white wool pants because she knew Elaine was right. A better dressed saleswoman would sell more ads and Rayne needed to sell as many ads as she could. If she wanted to save money to hire someone to search for her dad, she needed another source of income. Selling advertising for place mats for Elaine’s diner was the perfect way to get cash quickly. To be successful at selling advertising for the place mats, she had to appear businesslike, yet still bright and cheerful. She wouldn’t look any of those in worn jeans and a sweatshirt.
Elaine’s eyes widened when Rayne walked into the diner, but she said nothing about Rayne’s curly hair, contacts or pretty sweater. Rayne waved to Jericho. He waved back.
When she reached the counter, Elaine leaned close and said, “You look great!”
“I have out-of-town appointments.” She took a breath. “I’m going to take your suggestion and sell advertising for place mats for you.”
Elaine clapped her hands together with glee. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, well, let’s hope I’m not wasting a tank of gas.”
“You won’t be,” Elaine promised. “Businesses like place mat ads because they’re cheap.”
“Do you happen to know how much they charge?”
Ringing up the sale for Rayne’s coffee, Elaine said, “I think it’s about fifty dollars an ad, with the people taking the corner ads paying a hundred. You can put about twenty ads on a place mat that way.”
Rayne’s eyes widened. “That could be a thousand dollars!”
Elaine nodded. “Your only real expense will be the printing and your tank of gas. The rest will be profit.”
Rayne handed her coffee money to Elaine. “Wow. Wish me luck.”
Elaine said, “Good luck.”
From behind her, Jericho also said, “Good luck.”
Happy, finally feeling as if she might be able to make enough money to begin saving for the search for her dad, Rayne spun to face him. “Thanks.”
His gaze stalled on her face. “You’re welcome.”
He paid Elaine then quickly left the diner and Elaine laughed. “I’m telling you. That sweater is a killer.”
Rayne shook her head as she picked up the coffee Elaine had set on the counter for her. “Right now all I’m interested in is making enough money that I can bring back a salesperson.”
She walked out of the diner and was surprised when she stepped onto the sidewalk and Jericho was waiting for her.
“I really meant it when I said good luck in there.”
She smiled. “I know.”
“That’s good,” he said, but he didn’t make a move to leave. Instead he continued to stare at her as if he expected her to say something.
Not able to think of anything, she only stared back, taking advantage of the opportunity to soak in every detail of his features. But when her gaze stopped on his eyes, she noticed that he was doing the same thing to her. It seemed ridiculous that they could have such strong chemistry, when they barely knew each other, but she suddenly realized that they knew each other a lot more than they had even the month before when he decided it wasn’t a good idea for them to have a relationship.
They saw each other every morning. They knew each other’s lives. He didn’t feel uncomfortable putting in his two cents when Elaine made the place mat suggestion, and he not only encouraged her in the new venture, he also encouraged her about the paper.
But he had also said he didn’t want to have a relationship. And it didn’t appear that he’d changed his mind. And she wasn’t chasing him. She was tired of begging for affection and attention. Her own parents had provided her with enough rejection.
She took a breath. “I gotta go.”
“Okay,” he said, then smiled briefly. “Good luck…again.”
“Thank you.” She paused long enough to salute him with her coffee. “Again.”
With that she walked away, not stopping at the newspaper office, but going directly to her car, which was parked in a space behind the building.
She opened the lid of her coffee before beginning the drive, refusing to let herself think about Jericho, except to concede that once he made a decision he didn’t deviate. And he certainly wasn’t a man willing to take a risk. Of course, he thought he’d already taken a risk with the woman he lived with and she’d hurt him. So, in a way, Rayne understood his hesitation. Still, she’d been hurt. Her former boyfriend had all but destroyed her when he dumped her, but she was willing to try again.
She sighed and would have rested her head on her steering wheel had she not been driving up the entrance ramp for the interstate. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Jericho, yet here she was, thinking. And why? Because she was more than willing to try again. She was desperate to try again. She wanted somebody in her life. She was tired of being alone. But more than either of those, she’d never before seen in anyone’s eyes what she saw in Jericho’s every time he looked at her, and she longed for somebody to want her the way he did. She understood his reluctance to get involved again. She really did. But she hated it. He was the man she needed. Somebody who looked at her with pure, unadulterated yearning and who was strong, smart and sexy.
On the verge of being angry with herself for not getting beyond this, Rayne saw a little red sports car stopped along the road. The car was unique enough that she immediately recognized it as Tia Capriotti Wallace’s car. As she passed the vehicle, she glanced inside and saw Tia sitting with her head back and her eyes closed.
Traffic was sparse, so Rayne jammed on her brakes, eased her car to the berm, then hurriedly yanked her gearshift into reverse, driving back to Tia’s car. When she was in front of it, she shoved her gearshift into park and jumped out.
She tapped on Tia’s window but Tia didn’t move. From the tightness in Tia’s face, Rayne could tell she was in pain, so she grabbed the handle and pulled open the door. Tia was breathing heavily, gripping the steering wheel for dear life.
“Tia! What’s wrong?”
“Rayne!” she gasped in between panting breaths. “I’m in labor. I can’t drive. I can’t think. Everything’s happening so fast.”
“Do you have your cell phone?”
“Yes, but it’s not working! I don’t know if we’re in an out-of-service area or if the battery’s dead, but it’s not working!”
“Okay,” Rayne said, hearing the panic in Tia’s voice and forcing herself to stay calm. She’d long ago given up the expense of her own cell phone, but she also knew that if she stayed logical and unruffled, she could get Tia to the hospital. It was located just one block after the first turn off the interstate, only about ten miles up the road. “You’re going to have to get into my car.”
Tia nodded. “Okay.” But she didn’t move.
“Are you anywhere near the end of a contraction?”
“Dear God, I hope so.”
“Okay, let me know when you can walk.”
Tia panted a few more breaths, then nodded. “I think maybe now.”
“Let’s go quickly,” Rayne suggested casually, praying s
he sounded sane and stable enough that Tia would trust her.
A half hour later, when Tia had been taken away in a wheelchair and Drew Wallace and Ben and Elizabeth Capriotti had been called, Rayne collapsed on a plastic chair in the emergency room waiting room.
She sat with her head bent, just breathing for at least five minutes because she absolutely felt she had earned it. The hospital wasn’t a long distance away, but Tia’s pains kept coming increasingly closer. For a few minutes Rayne feared she would be delivering a baby that morning. But by staying calm and focused, she’d gotten Tia to the hospital on time. And she most certainly didn’t feel like going to a bunch of businesses begging them to buy ads for a place mat.
“You okay?”
Rayne glanced up. “Jericho?”
“My mom called.” He took a seat on the chair beside Rayne’s. “She told me you found Tia on the side of the road.”
She kicked the toe of his boot. “Lucky day for me to be on the interstate, huh?”
“Absolutely,” he said so seriously that Rayne looked over at him.
She took a breath. “It was scary,” she admitted, understanding that she could be honest with him. “But I also know that babies are born every day. I just kept telling myself that if I focused I’d get her here.”
“You did good.”
“I do a lot of good.”
“I know.”
“So does this win me any brownie points in the romance contest?”
“It isn’t a contest.” He looked away with a sigh and when he turned his gaze on her again, his expression was intense, serious. “I’m just not the settling down kind.”
She laughed. “Oh, you are. When the right woman comes along you will snap her up.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I know so. When you find the one who doesn’t have the fatal flaws I have, you’ll fall like a ton of bricks and be married before two months are up.”
She stopped because he was looking at her as if she were crazy.
“You think you have a flaw that keeps me from liking you?”
“Of course. You’re so attracted to me you can’t look at me without thinking of sex, yet you refuse to do more than exchange a platitude or two. So, yeah. I pretty much figure I have a fatal flaw.”
