Small-Town Hearts. Ruth Logan Herne

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СКАЧАТЬ cooling, shadowed presence. The west side of the store held an ice cream parlor setup, not too big, just enough to help augment summer sales.

      Smart.

      Danny liked and appreciated retail intelligence. Covering the bottom line was intrinsic to business, and in her own way, Megan Russo was doing just that, filling needs to fit the season and her cash flow. And looking really good, to boot.

      She picked that moment to glance their way, her look noting Ben making change, and then Danny.

      Her calm gaze did a little stutter-step, just enough to make him think she felt the connection. Her quick reversion to a more reserved countenance said she had every intention of fighting it, just like him.

      He almost breathed a sigh of relief, then laughed at himself. He was only here a short while, just long enough to set up a site that proclaimed Grandma Mary’s cared about its roots, and while he wasn’t a history buff by any means, he was smart enough to recognize how far his family had come in four generations.

      Amazing.

      Megan flashed another look Ben’s way, and Danny’s inner hopes dimmed as realization set in.

      He might put her out of business. Correction: would most likely put her out of business.

      And that meant Ben would be out of a job, a chance to mingle with people, to feel good about himself. Danny knew how important those qualities were to the developmentally challenged.

      He smiled his thanks to Ben and hoisted the bag of chocolate. “Thank you so much, young man.”

      Ben grinned appreciation. “You’re welcome.”

      Danny turned and headed for the door, wishing she’d call out. Wish him good day. Say goodbye. Invite him to come again.

      She didn’t.

      And he refused to turn, looking for her attention, knowing it was best to avoid her as much as possible considering the circumstances. The idea of causing her problems weighed on him, but his allegiance to his family business and family roots went deep. He’d scour the area for likely settings and try to place their new store far enough away from the Colonial Candy Kitchen to minimize the effect—but in the end, business was business.

      Right now, he wasn’t all that certain he liked that idea.

      Chapter Three

      “Spill it, girlfriend. Who was the hunk you were shamelessly flirting with while I delivered cookies to the mercantile and the coffee shop?” Hannah tossed out the question once the store was empty at midday. “Some businessman.”

      “And then some.” Hannah’s arched brows and grin showed proper appreciation. “What kind of business?”

      Meg shook her head, wiped down crumbs from the cookie station and crossed to the freezer. The walk-in unit had been last year’s capital expenditure and was worth its weight in gold, which was almost what the unit cost. “No idea.”

      “You didn’t ask?”

      “No.”

      “Why?”

      “Not my business.”

      Hannah stopped filling the half-pound boxes of pecan caramel turtles, a big seller regardless of the season. “Meg, he told you outright he was staying around awhile.”

      “And?”

      Hannah made a knocking motion against the counter with her left hand. “Um, hello? Opportunity calling? Sorry we missed you.”

      Meg sent her a scowl that was only half pretend. “Opportunity has knocked before, remember? And I answered. Big mistake. Crashed and burned. Do the words ‘public spectacle’ come to mind?”

      Hannah’s gaze softened. “You’re blowing things out of proportion, Meg.”

      “Am I?” Meg turned, not sure that she was ready to face this conversation but not seeing an easy way out. “Are you forgetting that fiancé number one cheated on me and got another girl pregnant?”

      “Which says a lot about his lack of character, not yours. He was totally unworthy of you and you know it.”

      Meg had heard that before, and had almost come to believe it when in came Michael, fiancé number two. What on Earth had she been thinking? Was she that much in love with the idea of being in love? Or just totally naive?

      “Let’s not forget Michael.”

      “No, please, let’s forget Michael.” Hannah mock-shuddered, her expression underscoring her words. “Yes, he was funny and charismatic, but he had no work ethic and little pretense of faith, and didn’t Alyssa Michaels tell you he just got fired from his latest job because he failed to show up, time after time? Were you thinking you could fix that? Fix him? Not hardly.”

      “You’re right, I know that, it’s just…” Megan grimaced and shrugged. Her friend Alyssa had made it a point to call her and fill her in on Michael’s newest gaffe, showcasing how undependable he was. Why hadn’t she noticed that sooner? “Obviously I’m either too needy or gullible. Maybe both. Very honestly, the thought of putting myself out there again scares me to death.”

      “I know.”

      Something in Hannah’s soft tone said she understood too much. A hint of sadness shadowed her eyes, her gaze, then disappeared as she moved forward to hug Meg. “But I also know that you befriended me when I moved here. I knew no one, I had no family in this area, and you reached out to me. Talked to me. You brought God’s peace into my life at a time when I needed it, Meg. I want to be able to do the same for you.”

      Meg returned the embrace, grateful for the connection. Alyssa had been nudging her much the same way, but taking those first steps seemed harder than she’d have ever thought possible.

      Hannah stepped back, eyed the clock and gave a low whistle. “And on that very emotional note, I’ve got to fly if I want to get the library open by three.”

      Meg nodded and grabbed her hand. “Hannah. Thanks.”

      Hannah shrugged. “Hey, we’re girls. Been there, done that. Girlfriends have to stick together. And sometimes give one another a well-meaning push.”

      “Which means I get to do the same for you sometime?”

      Hannah waved a hand in the air as she headed for the door. “Right now we’re talking about you, not me. See ya.”

      Meg grinned at her retreating back. Noting that Ben was still out back with the late-afternoon renewed antics of the finch families, she began unpacking ice cream counter supplies when the phone rang, a welcome interruption from errant happily-ever-after thoughts.

      “Colonial Candy Kitchen, Meg speaking. How can I help you?”

      “Meg, this is Jacqui Crosby.”

      Okay, make that was glad of the interruption. Meg was never too thrilled to chat with fiancé number one’s intrusive mother. “Jacqui, how are you?”

      “Frazzled СКАЧАТЬ