She hoped she felt as good when she finished this morning’s mission.
Though the book-club members continually evolved as old friends moved away and new members were drawn by the poster in the front window, most of the mainstays still came. This morning, however, only Beth, Sophie and Olivia were seated at the back meeting area with cups of steaming coffee cradled in their hands.
The three looked as bright and cheery as a trio of colorful songbirds, with Beth in a long paisley skirt and orange T-shirt, Sophie in her lime clinic uniform splashed with cherries, and Olivia in an elegant violet pantsuit that flattered her closely cropped silver hair.
“Good morning.” Keeley smiled at them as she made her way to the Keurig on a side table and prepared a cup of the blueberry-flavored coffee generously lightened with a splash of skim, then selected a lemon poppy-seed muffin from an overflowing tray of treats. “Are you all ready for what this week will bring?”
Tucking a wayward strand of chestnut hair back into the casual twist at her nape, Beth nodded. “We’re planning to have a sidewalk sale during the festival and some local authors will be doing readings inside the store each day. My mother will be helping with cookie decorating back in the children’s area—Dr. Seuss–shaped cutouts.”
“Eli will love that,” Sophie exclaimed. “If she needs help supervising, I’d be happy to pitch in on Saturday.”
“That sounds more fun than my job,” Olivia grumbled as she nibbled the edge of a cranberry-and-white-chocolate scone. “I’ll be the cashier at the church food tent for eight hours straight on Friday.”
“My plans aren’t quite what they were when I still had Edna.” Keeley clasped her coffee mug between her hands, savoring the warmth. “We were quite a team.”
Olivia lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I hear you have some new help, though. Quite an interesting fellow—or so they say.”
Keeley stilled. “Oh?”
“I needed more of that nice thick yarn for making prayer shawls, so I stopped by Knitting Pretty and, of course, I also got an ample dose of local news.” Olivia smirked. “Not that I wanted to hear it, but it can be a bit hard getting away, as you know.”
“I can guess what she wanted to share,” Keeley said dryly.
Olivia and Beth exchanged a quick, concerned glance. Then Olivia cleared her throat. “Word has apparently traveled rather fast about that cowboy of yours. Are you sure it’s a good idea to have him working in your store?”
Sophie’s confused gaze swept all of them. “So what’s wrong with him? I thought he sounded like quite a hero, rescuing Keeley from her roof like that.”
Keeley bit back a sigh. Small-town life was wonderful, and she’d never wanted to live anywhere else. But while close relationships and a deep sense of community were great, the tendency for persistent gossip was not.
“I think they’re referring to his incarceration,” she said, meeting Olivia’s gaze. “Would that sum it up?”
The older woman didn’t flinch. “I would say so, yes.”
Keeley gave her a level glance. “Honestly, I think he turned up in answer to my prayer.”
Olivia shook her head. “Some people in town think you’re making a foolish mistake.”
“Most people should know Millie is an unreliable gossip, and Todd is, as well, even though he has seen proof and knows Connor was innocent of any crime. So if he’s dramatizing the story down at the coffee shop, then he and I need to have another talk.”
“So have you seen that proof yourself?” Sophie whispered.
“Yes, I have.” Keeley resisted the urge to throw up her hands in frustration. “I think he’s a good man, caught in terrible circumstances, who is trying to make a new life for himself. Can you guess what his one goal is now? What he wants more than anything?”
Beth shrugged. “Vengeance, maybe. Or a ton of money for selling his story to a magazine?”
“A deal with a major book publisher and a ghost writer?” Olivia offered.
“Not even close.” Keeley felt her lower lip tremble and she took a steadying breath. “All he wants is to find his nine-year-old son, do everything he can to regain at least partial custody, then find a good, steady job somewhere. He’s not thinking fame or fortune or book deals. He simply wants to be a good father to his boy.”
Sophie leaned back in her chair and fanned herself. “Oh, my. Tall, dark and awesome. Be still, my heart.”
“He won’t be here long—only a few weeks, until his truck is done. So if you overhear anything, please—just tell people the truth.”
* * *
Connor had firmly declined Keeley’s offer of a ride to work this morning, so with an hour until opening her store, she drove slowly away from the bookstore, cruised past the sheriff’s office and then drove through town searching for Todd’s patrol car.
He should be out on the highway trapping speeders or somewhere out in the county on a call, but his mornings were usually spent in town at his favorite haunt.
She found him at the coffee shop, as she’d expected—hunched over his morning coffee and a massive cinnamon roll slathered with caramel and pecans—chatting with the waitress.
She settled on the stool next to him and ordered a cup of coffee. The waitress, a heavyset, middle-aged woman with Dora on her name tag, brought it in a flash then disappeared into the kitchen.
“Mornin’, Keel.” Todd shot a sideways glance at her then studied his coffee mug.
“I suppose you can guess why I’m here.” She glanced around, but the shop was nearly empty save for an older couple in a booth at the far corner. She lowered her voice. “I’ve been running into an interesting situation and thought you’d want to know.”
He took a slow swallow of his coffee.
“Millie stopped by and was worried about the ‘troublemaker’ working for me. Several of my friends are concerned about the ‘murderer’ in town. Even my sister heard about it, and she lives in Minneapolis.” She glared at Todd’s profile until he finally turned to meet her eyes. “This has got to stop. You know the truth about Connor, yet this so-called news is spreading like wildfire and I know you’re partly to blame. How fair is that?”
“I admit I discussed it privately here—in a back booth, with the deputy who works the eastern half of the county.” He shrugged, blowing off her concern. “If someone overheard, well...”
“Like Millie, of all people? Or a waitress?”
His gaze slid away.
“And what about my sister?”
Crimson splotches bloomed on his plump cheeks. “I was just concerned about having someone like him around.”
“No, you like to entertain people with your dramatic stories.” Keeley gritted her teeth. “And calling Liz was so over the top that I should report you to the sheriff. You had no business doing that. I’m thirty-one and make decisions on my own. I can hire circus clowns to run my store if I want to.”
As a kid he’d been a tattletale and a gossip, and had bullied younger kids. How he’d managed to snag a fiancée was hard to believe. How he’d become a deputy was beyond her comprehension.
“I know. It’s just...it’s just that I see things you’d never want to see, Keel. Controlling, conniving, dangerous guys. Girlfriends or wives too terrified to even try to get away. So when someone shows up with a troubled past, well...”
“That has nothing to do with Connor. He’s a nice guy who suffered an unjust conviction, and anyway, he’s just a very temporary employee.”
“Guilty or not, he’s been rubbing shoulders with convicts for five years—probably nurturing a lot of hate and resentment over his conviction.” Todd ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “What did that do to him, huh? Not affect him at all?”
“You’re saying that people don’t have a choice—that even a good person would turn bad in
prison, despite their nature? Their upbringing? I don’t believe that.”
He fidgeted with a menu. “I’d dealt with a case of fraud perpetrated on an elderly widow with dementia just before your new buddy showed up in town, and it made me think.”
“He isn’t my ‘new buddy,’ and you can’t imagine that I’m like that poor old woman.” She sighed. Todd apparently thought he was doing the right thing, and she knew it was nearly impossible to change his mind. “I trust you won’t be sharing details about him with everyone else in town. Right?”
“Promise.” He cleared his throat. “Unless there’s a good reason.”
She dug through her purse and tucked a five under her coffee mug. “I just wish the gossip mill around here wasn’t so ready to brand Connor as something he’s not. And, anyway, he’ll be on the road for Detroit the very day his truck is fixed. We’ll never see him again, I’m sure.”
“We can only hope,” Todd muttered as she stood to leave. “But in the meantime, you’d better be careful.”
Stifling a sharp retort, she lifted a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and headed outside, frustration and anger tying her stomach into a heavy knot.
She’d spoken offhandedly about Connor’s departure, as if it didn’t matter to her.
But it did. Way too much.
With every passing day she found herself falling for him a little bit more as she experienced his deep sense of honor, his warmth and kindness, and an indefinable, physical attraction that made her nerves tingle and her knees weaken if their eyes happened to meet.
But she’d always known he needed to leave, fight for his son and then establish a new life. His goals had been clear from the very start. Her roots—her business, her debts, her failing father—made it impossible to ever follow.
And once again she’d be facing inevitable heartbreak. When would she ever learn?
Chapter Ten
By Tuesday business had started to pick up. There were browsers in the store all day long and, with his third day of work, Connor had begun to slip into a comfortable routine—something he’d never expected could happen the day he’d accepted the job.
He worked on maintenance projects around the place unless Keeley needed to go check on her dad—then he manned the cash register and tried to revive his rusty social skills with the customers who stopped by.
More than a few, he suspected, were locals curious about Keeley’s new employee—like the two teenage girls who were now giggling together over by an antique jewelry display.
They whispered, their heads together, but now and then one of them shot a look in his direction. Belatedly, he realized that they could be surreptitiously shoplifting, so he strolled over and leaned a hip against the display case.
“Howdy, ladies. Finding anything you like?”
The brunette blushed deep pink and ducked her head. The one with long blond hair pulled up in a high ponytail blushed, too, but she lifted her chin and brazened it out. “We’re just looking around for a birthday gift.”
“Your mom? Or a friend?”
They exchanged glances. “Friend,” blurted the brunette. “Um, a girlfriend. At school.”
Well...that was certainly awkward, and reeked of guilt. Still, he hadn’t seen them pocket anything and the display on top of the locked glass case appeared intact.
The bells over the front door tinkled and Bobby Whidbey walked in, bent beneath the weight of his school backpack. His face lit up with a broad smile when he spied Connor. “Hello, Mr. Rafferty. I’m here! Hi, Sara. Hi, Elise!”
The girls looked at each other and snickered, then sidled past Connor and zoomed toward the front door.
Bobby watched them leave, his expression filled with innocent adoration, oblivious to their arrogant slight.
Connor felt his heart turn over. Things hadn’t changed since he’d been in high school himself, which was a sad commentary on just how heartless teenagers could be.
“Those are nice girls,” Bobby said. “And really pretty, too. I see them at school sometimes.”
“Are they nice to you? Do they talk to you at school?”
He thought for a moment, his brow furrowed as he processed his answer. “They’re busy,” he said finally, with a single, decisive nod. “They dance at football games and everything.”
“Cheerleaders?”
“Yeah.”
From their snide response to Bobby as they left, Connor guessed they were in the most popular clique at school, were full of themselves and in fact weren’t kind to him at all.
“Keeley left us both our orders for while she takes her dad to the doctor’s office,” Connor said. “Are you ready to work?”
“I’m the sweeping boss.” Bobby’s voice rang with pride.
“Exactly right. And you’re very good at it, too. I watched you working yesterday and I was impressed.” Connor reached for a sheet of paper on the front counter. “She says here that you get to sweep the floors, collect the trash and take it to the Dumpster out back. You also get to feed and water Rags. We’ll leave it at just that for now.”
Bobby dropped his backpack behind the counter and hurried to the back room, where the sound of industrious sweeping soon filled the air, punctuated by occasional sneezes.
A few minutes later a middle-aged man scurried in, checked his watch and then made a beeline for Connor. His narrow face, undershot jaw and twitchy motions reminded Connor of a rabbit.
“I need a gift for my wife and I need it fast. Any ideas? I have no clue. I’m meeting her for an early dinner in about an hour, and I forgot our anniversary.” He scowled. “I will hear about it for months if she finds out.”
The challenge of “the blind leading the blind” came to mind, but Connor summoned up a smile and tried to remember how Keeley handled her more befuddled male customers.
“Would she like something personal? There’s antique jewelry over in the case, and scarves are on the rack in the corner. Women seem to like both, far as I can tell.” Connor gestured to the back of the store. “Or would she like something for the house?”
The man’s panicked gaze darted around the room then landed on a giant antique basket filled with dried flowers, plus what appeared to be weeds and cattails. “That thing—over there.”
Really? “Uh...great choice.”
“Wrap it in a nice big box, some sort of shiny paper and a big bow. Extra-big bow. I want it to look elegant.” The guy checked his watch again. “And make it snappy. Like I said, I’m in a hurry.”
Make it snappy? The man was a good foot shorter than Connor, but he’d still managed to look down his nose while giving orders.
With a sigh, Connor eyed the bulky arrangement. “We don’t have gift boxes that big. But with that one, it’s sort of like giving fresh flowers—and those you wouldn’t wrap.”
“A fancy gift bag, then?” The man drummed his fingernails on the counter. “Surely you have those.”
“Yes, but probably not that large. Let me check.” Connor leaned down to check the supply shelves below the cash register and shook his head. “Afraid not. But I could put a bow on the side of the basket...or you could pick something else.”
“Really? That’s the best you can do?” He snarled. A red flush started climbing up his pale face and now the veins at his temples stood out in sharp relief. “Where is Keeley?”
“Errands. But she’ll be back within the hour. If you want to come back then—”
“I told you I was in a hurry, and this was a total waste of my time.” He spun around, jerked the front door open and left, slamming it so hard that a glassware display in the front window rattled.
Temper, temper, Connor thought, shaking his head. Since Keeley left there’d been three pleasant customers and one complete jerk.
He headed to the back room, where
he’d been re-caulking the windows between customers. “Hey, Bobby, would you like a Coke? My treat.”
The storeroom was silent, the broom lying on the floor by the back door.
“Bobby?” He scanned the area, glanced at the employee restroom. The lights were off, the door partly open. “Are you back here?”
Nothing stirred.
He glanced around once more then checked the front of the store. Maybe the kid had gone home for some reason?
It wasn’t until he went to the back again that he heard the softest rustle of movement and a faint whimper. “Bobby? Are you all right?”
He found the boy curled up in a tight ball, cowering behind a stack of boxes in the corner. “Bobby. It’s me, Connor. What’s wrong?”
If anything, the boy tried to melt even further against the wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees and his face hidden.
Baffled, Connor hunkered down close to him and nearly rested a comforting hand on his back, then hesitated. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
Silence...then a soft whimper and a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.
“I was sure hoping you wanted to take a little break. There’s some soda in the fridge and Keeley left us some of those pretty purple cookies.”
Those offerings would have easily won him over when Connor was that age, but the boy didn’t budge. A silent sob shook through him, though, and at that Connor lowered himself to the floor, stretched out his legs and leaned against a shelf, close enough for support without actual contact.
Lonnie’s recent words about his ex-wife flashed into his thoughts. Joshua is practically raising himself.
He had no doubt about the truth of Lonnie’s statement, and even now it tore at his heart. Who was there for his son, when he was sad or lonely or scared, if Marsha was off partying with her friends? Did she ever bother to get a babysitter or was he left alone? Did he feel as helpless as this poor boy next to him?
“I’ve been having quite a day,” Connor murmured. “How about you? Let’s see... This morning, I woke up to find a raccoon rummaging through my campsite. It broke into my cooler and made off with my hot dogs, buns and apples. And last night my tent leaked. Lucky we had just a gentle rain.”
The Single Dad's Redemption (Aspen Creek Crossroads Book 3) Page 8
