Love Inspired June 2021--Box Set 1 of 2
Page 53
Will had to laugh, despite himself.
“There is a balm in Gilead.” She shook her finger at him. “Forgive Liz. Forgive yourself. And let God pour over your ashes the healing oil of gladness.” She smiled.
He planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, Miss Glorieta, for caring enough to set me straight.”
“Don’t you know I’m a sucker for a handsome man with manners?” She gave him a wink. “Speaking of handsome, charming men, maybe I’ll stop by to see your dad on my way to the Jar.”
“Pops would love that.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Have I told you how happy I am that you and Pops are friends?”
The barbecue queen’s lips curved. “While you’re having your come-to-Jesus moment, don’t forget to ponder what you can do to convince Kara not to leave Truelove. When that girl sets her mind to something, she can be so stubborn.”
“Wonder where she gets that from.”
Glorieta laughed so hard, tears leaked out of her eyes. “This is why I took one look at you, Will MacKenzie, and knew right then and there you two were perfect for each other.” Still chuckling, she gave him a wave and headed back toward Mrs. Desmond’s.
For the next hour he sat down on the rough, broken step and undisturbed, he cried out to God. After a while, his mind quieted. His heart settled. Peace flooded his being.
There was only the scratching of a robin underneath a bush. And the gentle whisper of the wind sloughing through the trees.
But what could he do to get Kara to change her mind about leaving town? Truelove needed her a whole lot more than she needed them.
He raked his hand over his head. Truth was, he needed Kara in his life a lot more than she could ever possibly need him.
“I messed up bad with her, God,” he whispered to the wind. “Let my fears and insecurities overshadow what I felt in my heart for her.”
Where do I go from here? Help me, Lord. Show me what to do to win back her heart.
His gaze wandered over the shambles around him. So far he’d managed to find the mangled metal of what was left of Soufflé’s crate, but nothing else. Maybe Maddox had it right. The wind had blown the poor, defenseless creature far, far away.
Slowly, an idea took root inside him. Perhaps it wouldn’t change her decision, but it might help her to see how many people in Truelove did care about her and her restaurant.
He’d need assistance. A lot of assistance. Taking out his phone, he put in a call to ErmaJean. She answered on the first ring.
Skipping pleasantries about her new great-grandson, he quickly gave her the lowdown on the latest crisis to befall Truelove—losing Kara—and outlined his plan to get her to stay.
“I’ll alert Ethan to text the menfolk, and I’ll call IdaLee. We’ll message every contact on our phones,” ErmaJean promised. “Never fear, dear heart. Truelove is here for you.”
He could almost envision the plump older lady fist-pumping the air.
Next stop—the hardware store to tackle GeorgeAnne. He grimaced. But anything for Kara.
Because when it came to rallying the town and marshaling the troops, there was nothing for it but to get the matchmakers involved.
Will would call in a few favors of his own, too. Enlist AnnaBeth and Lila. But he was running out of time. And the clock was ticking.
He had a feeling that if he didn’t stop Kara from leaving Truelove, there would be no second chances. He would lose her forever.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The rest of the day proved completely frustrating for Kara.
She’d accomplished absolutely nothing on her Things That Must Be Done list. No matter how hard she tried, it was like she came up against a brick wall.
Lunchtime came and went. Not that she had an appetite. And what was even scarier, she’d lost all desire to create food. She picked at the chicken salad on a croissant Mrs. Desmond had left for her.
The chicken salad and croissant that was bought yesterday morning at the Mason Jar by her kind hostess before Kara’s world blew to smithereens.
She called to congratulate Amber, resting at home with her newborn son. “I’m sure Lucy and Stella are over the moon in love with their baby brother. How are you feeling?”
“Uh, great. Yeah. They’re happy. Sorry to cut this short, but I’m going to have to get off the phone now.”
“Sure. I under—” Click.
Kara tried not to allow her feelings to be overly hurt at Amber’s unseemly haste to get off the phone. She dialed her short-order cook next.
Leo answered, but as soon as she identified herself he yelped something in Spanish and hung up on her.
She stared at the cell in her hand with disbelief. And so it went. Her phone calls to say goodbye went unanswered. All afternoon she left messages, which all went unreturned.
AnnaBeth. Lila. Callie and Maggie. Shayla and Trudy were unavailable, too. Even Mrs. Desmond and her Chihuahua had made themselves scarce.
Where was everyone? Maybe they were involved in picking up the pieces of their own storm-tossed lives. Yards to be raked. Houses to be repaired. Insurance adjustors to contact.
Feeling stonewalled, she flopped across the bed.
Or perhaps with the Mason Jar gone, she’d outlived her usefulness to Truelove. And those she’d believed were friends for life were actually no more than friends for this particular, mountain-winding curve in the road.
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
This is what came from putting yourself out there for people to stomp all over your heart. Sunny, optimistic Kara needed a reality check. This was real life. This was her life. Better get used to it.
Will texted her three times. Which she promptly ignored, then deleted. Because at some point, Defeated Kara had given way to Scrappy Kara.
Midafternoon, Glorieta came back from the café with the photos she’d taken. “Minimal damage.” Her foster mom swiped through the pictures on her cell. “Windows. Entrance door. Upholstery. But otherwise, the damage is cosmetic.”
Kara pursed her lips. “There are gouges in the dining room walls. The paint job is ruined.”
“But the equipment is undamaged. The kitchen area, albeit windblown, is easily set to rights.” Glorieta hitched her eyebrow. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
She grimaced. “No will here.”
“Little w or big W?”
Kara glowered. “Both.”
Smoothing the crease in her jeans, Glorieta stood up from Mrs. Desmond’s green brocade couch. “I see.”
And she got that look in her eye Kara had come to recognize warned that Glorieta was about to say something she’d rather not hear.
“Tomorrow’s a-coming, Kara Lynn.”
“Yes, ma’am. Easter Sunday. I know.”
Glorieta moistened her lips. “Will was coming in as I was leaving. You two should talk.”
“I think we’ve said about all there is to say to each other.”
“Aren’t you the least curious as to why he’s at the café?”
“Nope. I’m not.”
That wasn’t true, but she quickly buried any yearning to see Will under a heavy layer of “fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...”
“I’m going to tell you anyway.”
Which Kara had known she would.
Glorieta gave her an imperious look. “He was assessing the electrical panel to make certain nothing had short-circuited and which might present a future fire hazard.”
She sniffed. Good for him.
“He said he needed to talk to you.”
Kara recalled the three texts she’d erased. “I’m not going down there. I don’t want to talk to him.”
“So you’re never going to set foot inside the café again?”
Kara jutted her jaw. “Not if I can help it.”
How could she have forgotten those? “Couldn’t you bring them to me the next time you go downtown?”
“I could.” Glorieta grabbed her purse. “But I won’t.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Why? Wait. You’re leaving again?”
“You want your journals, you’ll have to get them yourself, missy.” Glorieta touched a hand to her close-cropped gray curls. “And yes, I’m headed out again. I have a date with a retired fire chief and his adorable grandson. There was talk of ice cream, I believe.”
Her foster mom disappeared out the front door, and Kara threw a couch cushion onto the Persian rug. Pacing the floor, she was still fuming when the doorbell rang fifteen minutes later.
She peeked around the hallway toward the front door. Had Glorieta changed her mind and come back for her? She longed to cuddle Maddox with an intensity that made her ache inside.
Crossing the distance, she glanced quickly through the glass sidelight at the lengthening lavender shadows gathering across the green lawn before yanking open the door.
“Oh.” She stepped back a fraction. “I didn’t realize it was you.”
GeorgeAnne’s wrinkled mouth tightened. “And if you had, you wouldn’t have answered the door.”
She flushed.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you shut the door in my face right this minute.” GeorgeAnne’s bony hand gripped her car keys. “But if you’d give me a chance, I’d like to make amends. To apologize for being such a...such a...”
“Glass of curdled milk? Rotten egg? Halibut gone bad?”
What passed for a smile with GeorgeAnne lightened her features. “That’s what I like about you, Kara Lockwood. You’ve been a worthy opponent. Always such a kick in the pants to those who are overdue for it. Who’ve gotten a little too big for their britches. Reminds me of me.”
For the love of quiche, please not that.
“Maggie and her boys corralled me into giving that galette thing of yours a try.”
“I’m—”
“And by corralled, I mean that literally. Austin and Logan talked me into playing cowboys, then steered and roped me to a kitchen chair.”
She put her hand over her mouth. “They tied you up?”
“Maggie wouldn’t release me until I took a bite.” GeorgeAnne scrunched up her face. “It wasn’t half-bad. I had more than one bite, actually.”
High praise from the acerbic leader of the Double Name Club.
GeorgeAnne pushed her glasses farther up her nose. “I can see where it should have its rightful place on the Mason Jar menu.”
“Thank you... I think.”
Quite a concession, considering it was Kara’s menu, not GeorgeAnne’s. But a moot point. Somehow, like the rest of Truelove, GeorgeAnne’s highhanded ways had grown on her.
Kind of like kudzu.
“Not only did you save my life—”
“Miss GeorgeAnne...” She fidgeted.
GeorgeAnne held up her palm. “Not only did you save my life, but you’re a valuable member of Truelove. The Mason Jar has always been the community’s center, but you, Kara dear, have become its heartbeat.”
Her eyes stung. “Thank you for saying that, Miss GeorgeAnne. It means more than you’ll ever know.”
“I wanted to stop by to apologize for what Walter assures me has been abominable behavior, unbecoming to a woman of my influence.”
Kara straightened. “Walter’s back in Truelove?”
“He’s waiting in the car for me.” The smile that flitted across GeorgeAnne’s features was just this side of coy. “Once he heard about the tornado, he wanted to make sure I wasn’t hurt.”
“I’m glad.”
GeorgeAnne peered at her. “I can see that you truly are. You really are the most extraordinary person. How blessed Chief MacKenzie will be to call you his wife.”
Her heart twisted. “We’re not together anymore, Miss GeorgeAnne.”
“But I’m on the case now.” The woman lifted her index finger. “As ErmaJean just this morning pointed out to me, I’ve neglected my greater calling as a matchmaker. An error I mean to rectify. Immediately.”
Kara believed it best not to respond to that so she said nothing. Will didn’t love her. There was no fixing that. And she didn’t want anyone else.
“I also wanted to thank you for gracing us with your culinary skills.” GeorgeAnne’s glacier-blue eyes twinkled. “I hear that crème brûlée of yours isn’t anything to sneeze at.”
“Thank you for coming by, Miss GeorgeAnne.”
And she meant it. Kara felt lighter. She’d always aimed to live in harmony with everyone. The conflict with the woman had weighed heavily on her.
GeorgeAnne tilted her head. “Seeing as you and I are so much alike...”
Dear Jesus, say it isn’t so.
“I have one last piece of unsolicited advice.”
That would be the day.
“I drove past the Mason Jar Café on my way here...” GeorgeAnne gave her a significant look.
And she realized it was the first time the older woman had called her restaurant by its new name. A token of respect. She smiled back.
“I do believe you might want to stop by and see for yourself what the fire chief tore out of your kitchen. A bunch of books were on top of the pile.”
“What?” she shrieked. “How dare he? Who does he think he is?”
Her precious cooking journals. Was nothing sacred? The man had the taste buds of a barbarian, which she’d tried her utmost to cultivate and educate. But obviously, some things were beyond the ability of a mortal woman.
GeorgeAnne chuckled, grating across Kara’s taut nerves like a metal shish-kebab skewer across a too-hot griddle. “I think my work here is done.” She turned on her heel and headed to her truck, parked at the curb.
An older gentleman, silver-haired and eminently distinguished, waved, but Kara was too undone to return the courtesy.
She grabbed Mrs. Desmond’s spare key. During the tornado, Kara’s car had been parked behind the restaurant, and thus had escaped damage. AnnaBeth’s husband, Jonas, had thoughtfully returned her car last night. But Kara didn’t bother taking her vehicle the few short blocks between Mrs. Desmond’s and downtown.
Break her heart if he must. But if William Lane MacKenzie had laid a finger on her journals... If he thought he could erase her from this town, his heart, like yesterday’s blue plate special...
He better think again.
She stomped down the block, carried along by a fine head of steam, which had only just begun to build. The fire chief might believe he’d seen his fair share of amazing blazes, but she was coming to set him straight. And when she got through with him... She gnashed her teeth.
Nobody, but nobody, did blaze better than a chef.
* * *
When he finished reading the text from GeorgeAnne, Will pocketed his phone. “We don’t have much time before Kara arrives.”
AnnaBeth placed the last sprig of wildflowers in the glass Mason jar. “The paint on the walls may still be a bit tacky to the touch, but otherwise everyone is nearly finished.”
They stood in the middle of the dining area. At the moment it was organized chaos. But administration was his strong suit. Evaluating a situation, developing a plan for action and deploying his crew to where most needed to make a difference.
He could have done none of this, though, without AnnaBeth’s design guidance. Will took a quick survey of all they’d accomplished in such a short time. “I think we might actually pull this off.”
AnnaBeth distributed the Mason jars filled with wildflowers to each of the tables. “O ye of little faith. How could you have even doubted the fine citizens of Truelove coming through in the end?”
They wandered out to the sidewalk to c
heck on progress. “I want this to be the café Kara always dreamed of.” Will placed the chalkboard placard near the curb.
Eager to make amends, Zach and some of the other off-duty firefighters used the engine ladder to attach the striped awning over the entrance.
Will and AnnaBeth stepped out of the way as her husband, Jonas, and several other men removed small, round tables from the back of a rented moving van and scattered them around the sidewalk. A troop of children positioned the rattan chairs around the café-style tables.
At the corner Lila was putting the finishing touches on a small mural she’d painted on the side of the building. Her fiancé, Sam, and tons of other volunteers had repaired and painted the interior walls the bright, cheery yellow color AnnaBeth had selected. Reflecting Kara’s French bistro vibe.
Callie and Maggie scurried about draping red checkerboard tablecloths on the sidewalk tables.
“She’s going to love this, AnnaBeth.” He couldn’t believe the transformation from storm-damaged diner to Parisian street café. “Thank you so much.”
Hands on her hips, AnnaBeth smiled. “Thank my mom. If she hadn’t hosted that Monet-inspired garden party last summer, there’s no way we could’ve found these items so quickly to outfit the restaurant.”
Will had never met AnnaBeth’s mother, Victoria, but he’d gathered that like Glorieta, the well-to-do socialite was an honorary Truelove Double Name Club member. “Your mom just had them sitting in storage all this time?”
Several of the ROMEOs had spent a good portion of the day shuttling items from AnnaBeth’s childhood home in Charlotte.
“If you knew her, you wouldn’t even think to ask that question. Of course she did. She adores this kind of thing. You need something for an event? Pick a theme.” AnnaBeth snapped her fingers. “She’ll have exactly what you want and more in no time flat.”
Thanks to Miss IdaLee putting the word out on the Truelove grapevine, lots of townspeople had shown up on short notice to help this project become a reality.
Leo had taken charge of putting the kitchen to rights. Shayla and Trudy swept up broken glass. Ethan reupholstered the booths. Bridger and Jake installed a new glass door, and the Allen clan oversaw the installation of the windows overlooking Main Street. GeorgeAnne had insisted on supplying the work team with all the needed supplies.