Love at Last (Finding Love Book 6)

by Delaney Cameron

  “You can’t let one bad apple keep you from ever going back to the orchard.”

  “I know, but right now, I’ve lost my taste for apples.”

  “I wish I was there with you. I wouldn’t mind getting away from this lousy weather for a few days. All it’s done for the last week is rain.”

  “I miss seeing the leaves change, but I have to admit, being able to wear shorts in late October is nice.”

  “Not to mention being so close to the beach.”

  “Well, now you know someone with a place near the beach. You and Marcus are welcome to come here anytime you want.”

  “I might take you up on that.”

  Once she finished talking to Collette, Rosemary climbed into bed. After a few minutes, she grabbed her phone off the nightstand and opened her music app. A few clicks later she was falling asleep to Phil Collins.

  The next day she accompanied Mrs. Jenkins to the local flea market. With her disguise implements in place, she looked like any other young woman out for a day of bargain hunting. She hadn’t done anything so ordinary or relaxing in years. Her life was lived on an entirely different plane, and she wasn’t sure it was a good or healthy one.

  The items on display went from one end of the quality spectrum to the other. Rosemary quickly learned that Mrs. Jenkins didn’t pay sticker price for anything. She went back and forth with the vendors until she got the price she wanted.

  About halfway down the first row was a table with neatly stacked Mason jars. Behind the table stood a young woman about Rosemary’s own age; at her feet lay a German shepherd.

  “Darcy! How’d you get away from the bank?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

  The woman smiled. “I took a few days off.”

  “Is your mom around?”

  “No. She’s at home with a bad cold.”

  “Tell her I hope she feels better.”

  “Thank you; I’ll do that.”

  While Rosemary and Mrs. Jenkins were trying to decide between strawberry or blackberry jam, a man strolled up to Darcy and put his arms around her. The prolonged kiss he gave her brought a smile to Rosemary’s face. Once he finished, he turned and held out his hand to Mrs. Jenkins. “How’s my favorite customer on Hibiscus Lane?”

  “I’m doing great, Matt. How about you?”

  “All the better for seeing my beautiful wife.”

  “I noticed,” Mrs. Jenkins said, her lips twitching. “I’d like you to meet my neighbor, Rosemary Murphy. Rosemary, this is Matt and Darcy Gibson. Darcy’s mother and my daughter were best friends. Matt takes care of my yard.”

  “It’s nice to meet you both. Seeing all these Mason jars brings back memories of helping my grandmother with her garden.”

  “My mother has been doing this for years,” Darcy said. “She says it’s because she likes watching things grow. The nice thing is we never have to buy canned goods.”

  Rosemary looked at Matt. “I need someone to cut my grass. Are you taking new customers?”

  “Always. I do Mrs. Jenkins’s yard on Wednesdays. Would that work for you?”

  “Yes, it would. Thank you.”

  His glance encompassed them all. “As much as I’d like to stick around, I better get back to work.”

  After he walked away, Mrs. Jenkins looked at Rosemary. “That’s what you need. Too bad we can’t find another Matt.”

  Darcy laughed. “I think he’s one of a kind.”

  Rosemary knew a guy who was one of a kind, too. If things were different, it might have been her selling jam at a flea market and getting kissed. But what was the use in going there? Things weren’t different.

  * * * * *

  Jase’s prediction to his mother about Rosemary turned out to be true. She didn’t call him. This was one time he really wanted to be wrong. Beside him in the car, chirping away like the barn swallows that nested in the eaves of Quinn’s garage, was Winnie. She’d been wearing her Supergirl costume since she got home from school. When they pushed open the door to Violets are Blue, Winnie let go of his hand and skipped over to where Ellen stood behind the counter.

  “Miss Ellen! I’m all ready for trick-or-treat.”

  “I can see that.” Her glance went to Jase. “You make a very handsome Clark Kent.”

  “Thank you, but this suit and tie are strangling me. How can Quinn stand to wear these things every day?”

  Ellen’s assistant came through the curtains that separated the customer area from the work room. His curly hair looked more disheveled than usual. “I heard Supergirl was coming by today. I’ve got something for her. Where is she?”

  Winnie waved her hands in the air. “I’m right here, Mr. Frank.”

  He reached behind the counter and pulled out a treat bag shaped like a witch’s hat. “Happy Halloween.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she peered into the bag and then dropped it into the plastic pumpkin pail clasped in her hand. “Now I have five things. I got some candy from my teacher at school today.”

  “You’ll have a lot more by the time the night is over.”

  “Last year I got enough to fill this pumpkin up to the tippy top.”

  Frank laughed. “If that happens, don’t eat it all in one day.”

  “It’s not Winnie we have to worry about,” Ellen put in. “Quinn and Jase went through two bags of candy over the weekend.”

  “That’s what happens when you put it out early,” Jase explained.

  “I thought I was dealing with adults who could control themselves.”

  “Where did you get that idea?”

  Two customers came into the shop. While Ellen went to greet them, Jase ushered Winnie into the work room. They were followed a few seconds later by Frank. In the middle of a tall wooden table sat a cornucopia filled with autumn flowers, artificial pumpkins, corn stalks, and colorful assorted squash. It was surrounded by a dozen smaller ones in various stages of completion.

  “Are those for that conference at the convention center tomorrow?” Jase asked.

  “Yep. They look nice, but they’re a pain to put together.”

  Jase walked over to a set of shelves attached to the wall. Along with Frank’s boom box were several stacks of CDs. One case was lying open. Being one of those people who go around turning off lights and putting on lids, he automatically reached over to close the case. As he did so, his somewhat absent glance registered the name of the artist printed on the side of the label.

  Into his mind came that short conversation in the airport terminal with Donny’s mother. He studied the artist known as Sage. Over her shoulder hung a Gibson acoustic guitar. Her hair streamed out behind her as if she was standing in the wind. The leather jacket and faded jeans tucked in black boots showed off her tall, slender build. Since she was looking down and away from the camera, it was difficult to see her face. What kept his attention on the picture was the ring on the third finger of her right hand. Jase had seen that ring, or one exactly like it, two evenings ago.

  A picture of Rosemary, her hair and face covered by a hat and dark glasses, appeared in his mind. He remembered joking to himself that she was behaving like someone who didn’t want to be recognized. Maybe it wasn’t a joke. His glance went to the CD cover again. Artists sometimes took a stage name, and this one sort of made sense: rosemary and sage were both spices. He thought back over their conversations. Rosemary had never said exactly what she did for a living, mentioning only that she traveled frequently and lived in Nashville.

  There were too many coincidences to ignore; and unlike his brother, destiny didn’t have to hit Jase over the head repeatedly to get his attention. He turned back to where the other two were sitting at the table talking in low whispers.

  “Is this yours or Ellen’s?” he asked Frank, holding up the CD.

  “It’s mine. I heard one of her songs on the radio last year, and it was love at first listen. You can borrow the CD if you want.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get it back to you in a few days.”

  “I think I r
ead somewhere that she’s from the Atlanta area.”

  Frank had just given him another piece of evidence to support his theory. Rosemary was from Kennesaw which was a suburb of Atlanta. Finding out the girl he was interested in could be a country music star was both exciting and a little unnerving. He’d sensed that she was different from other women he’d known, but this was an entirely new level of different.

  * * * * *

  A few days after the trip to the flea market, Mrs. Jenkins invited Rosemary to lunch. The restaurant she picked was another of those places Rosemary’s mother would have considered a dive. Hawthorne’s was housed in an old Airstream trailer decked out like a 50’s diner. The long counter, metal barstools, black-and-white checkered floor, and corner jukebox completed the illusion of stepping back in time. After the friendly waiter took their orders, Mrs. Jenkins told Rosemary that this was where she met her husband.

  “I worked here when I was in high school,” she explained. “Wendell would come in after football practice and sit down at the end of the bar. He always ordered the same thing: cheeseburger, fries and a root beer float. Most of the time it would just be me, him, and the cook. Wendell wasn’t much for talking, but I didn’t let that stop me. I just kept asking him questions, and gradually he began to open up. The more I found out about him, the more I liked him.

  “One day I realized that I was thinking about Wendell even when I wasn’t at work. So I borrowed my sister’s red lipstick and tried everything I could think of to get Wendell to ask me out. Nothing worked. A few weeks later I found a note under his plate inviting me to the Homecoming dance. We danced every dance, and when he walked me to my front door that night, I knew there would never be anyone else for me.”

  Rosemary smiled. “What a romantic story. I love hearing how people met.”

  “We had forty years together. That’s more than a lot of couples get.” They were interrupted by the appearance of the waiter with Thursday’s special: tuna melts and onion rings. After he left, promising to bring ketchup, Mrs. Jenkins continued. “My daughter wants me to go on a seniors’ cruise in the spring. She says I need to meet people. What she really means is I need to meet some men. I told her I’d think about it, but the thought of spending time with someone other than Wendell is…well, I just can’t see myself doing it.”

  Rosemary removed the tea bag from her cup and laid it on the saucer. “After being that long with one person, it’s understandable that you would feel strange about getting close to someone else.” She was dealing with this herself in a different way. There was little doubt that Rosemary’s career consumed her life. Asking someone to share her with the demands of such a lifestyle was asking a lot. Added to this was the real fear that like before, she wouldn’t be enough.

  Mrs. Jenkins nodded. “Some people only love once.” She pointed to the glass display case by the register. “Make sure you save room for dessert. The pies they make here are out of this world.”

  “I’ve been trying not to look in that direction.”

  “One piece isn’t going to hurt you.”

  Some fifteen minutes later, Rosemary was sinking her fork into the creamy layers of a slice of coconut cream pie that was at least four inches thick. She silently vowed to jog an extra mile every morning for the next two weeks. This was more of a sop to her personal trainer than to her conscience. The few pounds she’d put on since coming to St. Marys would melt away fast enough once she got back to her regular routine.

  On their way back to Hibiscus Lane, Mrs. Jenkins asked if they could stop by the library to replenish her supply of reading material. Rosemary agreed, and they were soon walking through the double doors. A group of children and mothers stood at the checkout area.

  “It must have been story time today,” Mrs. Jenkins said, stopping to look at the ‘new in books’ table nearby.

  The librarian standing behind the desk looked up from the monitor in front of her. “The Thursday session is always crowded. We have a local author who comes in to read to the kids. They love him.”

  Rosemary immediately thought of Jase. She’d kept to her resolve to stay away from him, but it hadn’t been easy. Every time the doorbell rang last night, she’d thought about him and Winnie. She’d even found herself hoping he’d use the excuse of Halloween to come by her house. Her actions bordered on ridiculous. Jase had tossed the ball of friendship into her court, and she’d chosen to watch it fall to the ground.

  Mrs. Jenkins turned to her. “I want to pick up a few books to read to my Sunday School class. You don’t mind if we look in the children’s section first, do you?”

  “Not at all,” she replied.

  Never had three words been said with less conviction. Rosemary’s stomach lurched in a painful mixture of anticipation and tension as she followed her companion past the huge cut-out trees lining a yellow brick road. They passed an open area dotted with colorful bean bags on a geometric patterned rug; along the far wall stood a miniature castle. In spite of her inner turmoil, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the creative work that had gone into making a setting so appealing to children.

  As they entered an aisle of tall bookshelves, Rosemary slowly released the breath she’d been holding. If Jase was the person who’d done story time, he wasn’t there now. The chiming of her phone sounded like a car horn in the silence of the library. She hurriedly fished it out of her purse. The text was from her mother.

  “Cedric took third place in his school’s science fair. Up next is the regional fair in Buford.”

  “Tell him I said congrats.”

  “We’re going to LaGrange this weekend to see Martin’s brother. He’s visiting from California.”

  “Have a safe trip.”

  As she was putting away her phone, she heard a familiar voice speaking from the next aisle.

  “Do you need any help, young lady?”

  A peek through the open shelves confirmed her suspicions. The man was facing away from her, but there was no doubt it was Jase. She’d know that tall, muscular figure anywhere.

  “I can’t reach the Magic Tree house books,” a little girl’s voice answered him.

  “How about I get them down for you, and you can decide which ones you want to take home.”

  “Okay.”

  Rosemary heard him laugh and smiled involuntarily. Jase laughed more than anyone she’d ever met. And he didn’t mind laughing at himself, which was another of those ‘must-haves’ on any woman’s wish list.

  “Holy bookworm, Batman,” Jase was saying. “There’s a lot of Magic Tree house books. I’ll have to do this in sets of ten. Here’s some to get you started. The one on top is about pirates. I always wanted to be a pirate and have my own ship so I could sail around the world. Don’t you think I’d look cool with an eye patch and one of those commodore hats?”

  The little girl giggled. “You’re funny.”

  “That’s what my brother is always telling me.”

  At that point, a boy who looked to be about ten years old walked up behind Jase. “Sir, can you help me with the computer? It won’t let me sign in.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll be right there.” He turned back to the little girl. “Here’s another stack to look at. When you’re done, just leave them on the floor. I’ll put the ones you don’t want back on the shelf.”

  Rosemary watched him until he disappeared from view. The fact that Jase volunteered his time at a library only confirmed her impression of him as a kind and generous person. There was so much about him to like, and so much more about him that she wanted to know.

  She felt a hand on her arm and jumped guiltily. If Mrs. Jenkins thought it strange to see a grown woman hunched over peeking through the bookshelves, she didn’t say anything about it.

  “Sorry that took so long. Let’s go to the romance section so I can get some books for myself.”

  As she turned to leave, Rosemary didn’t look back. She wasn’t sorry that she’d seen Jase, but she did hope this would be the last time. With
each meeting, her resistance got lower. If this kept up, she wouldn’t have any left at all.

  * * * * *

  The matter of getting the boy, whose name turned out to be Cody, signed into the computer took about ten minutes. Jase returned to the aisle where he’d left the little girl. All that remained of their encounter was a neat stack of books sitting on the floor. He re-shelved them and continued his circuit of the aisles looking for anyone else who might need help. Technically, he didn’t have to stay once he was finished with story time, but he enjoyed interacting with the kids.

  As with most writers, Jase was an avid reader. In his mind, nothing was more important than instilling in children the desire to read. When Isobel mentioned a few months ago that the library was looking for someone to take the Thursday afternoon time slot, he jumped at the chance. For reasons unknown, that particular session became one of the most popular. Quinn told him it was his child-like personality. Ellen told him it was because children can sense when someone is genuinely interested in them. Jase liked her explanation better.

  Behind the last row of bookshelves was an area with small circular tables and chairs. By this time in the afternoon, the floor and surface of the tables were strewn with books, puzzles, and games. The neat freak in Jase wouldn’t allow him to pass by without trying to restore some semblance of order.

  He was collecting the pieces to an oversized jigsaw puzzle when movement outside the window caught his eye. Two females were walking toward a white Cadillac. He had no trouble recognizing the one wearing the hat and pink running shoes. Regret welled up inside him. The same regret he’d been dealing with all week.

  Jase had received his share of brush-offs, but none had bothered him to this extent. He’d felt an instant connection to Rosemary, and he’d hoped she felt it, too. But obviously that wasn’t the case. He told himself it was for the best. If she was Sage (and he was almost certain that she was), then it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. People in the entertainment business tended to gravitate to each other.