Читать книгу Small-Town Dreams and The Girl Next Door: Small-Town Dreams / The Girl Next Door - Kate Welsh - Страница 10

Cassidy held out little hope that Irma’s Café would provide a decent meal. After all, it had been Earl Pedmont who’d recommended the place, and that didn’t inspire much confidence. But it seemed to be the only game in town, so she headed toward the flickering neon sign he’d pointed out. Though traffic along the country road was indeed no problem, the uneven surface was.

With the prospect of spending several days watching everywhere she put her high-heel-shod feet looming in her mind, she opened the door to Irma’s Café—and almost gasped aloud. Instead she stood there gaping because inside the unassuming concrete-block structure was a perfectly preserved fifties diner, replete with shining red counter and matching stools. Sitting opposite the counter was a row of cheery red-and-white booths.

Cassidy sniffed the air appreciatively and sighed. Until that moment her surprises that day had been anything but pleasant. Maybe her luck had changed. Maybe things were looking up.

“Don’t get too excited, Cassidy old girl, there was nowhere to go but up,” she muttered to herself as she went to put her hand to her throbbing head and noticed her grease-stained fingers.

As the bell over the door tinkled, an elderly woman stopped polishing the red faux-marble countertop and looked up. “Sit wherever you want,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’ll be with you in no time.”

Cassidy nodded gratefully and nearly staggered to the nearest booth. She sank down onto the comfortable red bench and put her clean palm against her forehead, closing her eyes, trying to decide what to do next.

Her car clearly needed more than the typical in-and-out repair she was used to having done. Should she have her grandfather send a car for her, or should she look for lodging? That was really no choice at all, since right then she didn’t even want to talk to her grandfather, let alone ask for his help in any way.

“Are you all right, dear?” a female voice asked.

She looked up at the elderly woman who’d called to her from behind the counter. To Cassidy, she looked like everyone’s great aunt. Round. Gray. Kindly. The fairy godmother in Cinderella come to life.

“My car broke down and I don’t know what to do next,” she confided to the woman for some unknown reason.

“You look like you could use a little repair yourself.”

Cassidy felt as if someone had wrapped a blanket around her cold spirit. Baffled by her reaction to the woman, Cassidy shrugged. “Oh, it’s no big deal. Just a monster headache and an ulcer burning a hole in my stomach.”

“How about a bowl of homemade vegetable soup, some crackers and a nice cup of herbal tea?”

Cassidy sighed. “Is the soup what I smelled when I came in here?”

The woman sniffed the air and chuckled. “I suppose it was. So how does that bowl sound to you?”

“Perfect. I’ll have the soup and crackers.” She thought for a second and added, “The tea, too.”

“That’ll just take a couple minutes. You need anything else, just holler for Irma.”

“I need to wash up.” She showed Irma her greasy hand.

“Earl?”

Cassidy nodded and even managed a smile. “I’d like to believe he did it by accident. After all, he’s got my car.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was an accident. He’s really a nice man. He’s just not bursting with social graces. The ladies’ room is just past the counter on the left.”

Cassidy stood. “Thank you, Irma. Earl also said to ask you about the Mountain View Hotel. It looks as if I’ll be in town for a while, so I’ll need a suite.”

“Mountain View Hotel? Is that what he said?” She chuckled. “Oh, he’s a card, that Earl. We don’t have a hotel here in Mountain View.”

Horrified, Cassidy stared at the woman. She’d given up on reaching the mountain resort of her daydreams, but she had to stay somewhere. “Then where will I stay? Earl made it sound as if I could be stuck here for days.”

“In summer I sometimes rent rooms at the parsonage. Sort of a bed-and-breakfast kind of arrangement. That must be what he meant. That tease! You’re welcome to stay with us, even though I don’t usually rent in fall or winter. I can adjust the regular rate for the off-season, or leave it and include three meals either here or with the family.” She named what Cassidy thought sounded like a very fair rate and described a room that didn’t sound like a luxury suite but at least sounded comfortable.

“That sounds fine. Can you tell me how to get to a local shop? I need to buy some clothes and personal items. This was an unplanned trip.”

Irma pursed her lips. “Hmm. Well, there’s The Trading Post across the road. You can stop and get personal items and underthings there, but as for clothing, there’s nothing in town open in the off-season except the church thrift shop. I’m sure you could get by with what you find there.”

Cassidy’s heart dropped. No little designer shop? No cute little mountain boutique? “A thrift shop?”

Irma didn’t seem to notice Cassidy’s hesitation. “It’s a little ways on up the road. Last building out of town. Our home is right next door. The shop’s in back of the church building. You can’t miss it. It looks like a little version of the church but a lot newer. My son built it last summer.”

Cassidy was appalled, but didn’t want to show it after Irma had been so kind. She felt small and petty to balk at wearing clothes from a thrift store. But this was the complete opposite of what she’d imagined, and she didn’t think she’d be able to wear something a stranger had worn and discarded. “A thrift shop,” she repeated.

“There are some really nice things. You’ll see.”

Nodding, Cassidy said, “I’ll go over after I eat. How long will it be before I can get into my room? Maybe if I sleep, this headache will go away.”

“I’ll call Josh and warn him that you’re on your way over. He and Henry can get the room ready by the time you get there. I’ll go get your soup and be back in a jiffy.”

“Hello, St. Luke’s Thrift,” Joshua said as he put the telephone receiver to his ear.

“Josh, it’s Ma.”

Joshua smiled. “Hi, Ma. I was just about to close up shop here and go in to wake Henry.”

“I need you to do a couple things for me. Make sure the ivory-and-lavender bedroom is all made up and sparkling. We’ve got a young lady coming to stay a few days. She’ll be needing some things from the shop, too.”

“Another lost soul?”

“Smarty,” she scolded with a smile in her voice. “She’s a paying guest, so, no, not lost in the usual way, but…”

Now Josh heard compassion enter Irma’s tone. Here it comes, he thought, and sighed. “But what?”

“Well, I guess that having enough money to pay your way isn’t everything in life. I’m not sure she’s real healthy, either, but I can see she’s not happy even when she smiles. You’ll see. She should be there in a while. I just gave her a bowl of soup and a cup of tea.”

Chuckling, Josh hung up the phone to once again help Irma give aid to a needy person. He wanted to tell her to worry about herself for a change. She worked too hard. Relaxed too little. But how could he try to curb her from bringing home her strays after all she’d done for him?

Of course, there wasn’t a thing amiss in the room Irma had asked him to see to, so after waking Henry, Joshua returned to the thrift shop to await the woman.

A few minutes later the bell above the door tinkled. Joshua looked up, not knowing what to expect. Then he just stared. He might not have known what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been anyone like the young woman who entered and approached the counter. Joshua stood automatically.

“Hello,” she said as she stalked toward him. “Irma from the diner sent me here. I’ll be renting a room for a few days. She said I might find a few things to tide me over till my car is finished. Can you direct me to the size eights?”

Joshua couldn’t seem to respond. Had Irma lost her mind? This was her lost soul? This take-charge woman in the two-thousand-dollar suit? He had no idea how he knew what her suit must have cost, but he often knew things without knowing how he knew them.

“Excuse me?” the young woman said, now standing directly in front of him.

Joshua realized he was staring straight ahead at her navy suit, and looked quickly up into the sweetest face he’d ever seen. It was heart-shaped, and her skin looked like translucent silk. Her bottom lip was full and the top a perfect bow. She had a nose that tipped up, giving her the look of a woodland sprite. The face did not match the attitude.

Then he looked a millimeter higher into the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. They were gray-blue and shadowed with unhappiness and even a hint of physical pain, as well. Yeah. Irma was right once again. The woman could certainly pay her way but she was just as certainly a lost soul.

“May I help you?” he asked, knowing she’d asked him a question yet unable to recall it.

“The size eights. I asked where you have the eights,” she said slowly as if he were deaf or too dull-witted to understand her.

Joshua felt his hackles rise. Then he looked again at the woman. Irma thought she needed help. He guessed he could show enough Christian charity to swallow his anger at being patronized.

“Everything for women is in the front of the shop. All jeans are in the middle. Men’s to the left. Women’s to the right. The men’s clothes are behind the jeans. Kids’ clothes are all the way to the rear.” He pointed to the signs hanging above each section. With the Lord’s help, he managed not to put voice to his anger.

Joshua watched her walk through the room as if she might catch something from clothes once worn by others, and his anger flared anew. “Ma washes everything before anything gets added to the stock,” he said through gritted teeth before he could stop himself.

She pivoted toward him and her cheeks flamed. “I’ve never had to—” She took a deep breath, shook her head slightly and tried again, “I’m sorry. I’ve just never been…”

“Down on your luck? Hard up enough to wear hand-me-downs?” Joshua sat back down on the stool behind the counter and leaned his back against the wall, his arms crossed.

He could actually see her temper slip its restraints. “Not having faced tough times financially isn’t a crime. I’m not used to shopping like this. So shoot me! I need some clothes and these are all that’s available. I can roll with the punches as good as the next guy.” Her hand came up to squeeze her forehead. “I’m sorry. Could we start over?” She returned to the counter and reached her hand out to him. “I’m Cassidy Jamison.”

Joshua felt his annoyance give way to compassion. She was as much a fish out of water in the small thrift shop he and Henry had put together to serve their small congregation as he would be in the city she probably came from. She couldn’t change the life she’d obviously been born into any more than he could change the circumstances of his life. His own clothes had once been as expensive as hers. A suit that reminded him of the past still hung, cleaned and pressed, in his closet. Besides, she really didn’t look well.

He smiled, hoping to put her at ease, and shook her hand. But it wasn’t like shaking Earl’s hand or any of his father’s parishioners. He frowned at the feeling that zinged through him. “Joshua Daniels,” he said, hearing a bewildered husky tone in his own voice.

“Irma Tallinger sent me to see her son.”

“That would be me,” he explained. “Suppose I play shopkeeper.” He shrugged. “That’s what I am today, after all.”

Her tentative return smile was surprisingly shy and sweet but still didn’t overshadow the sorrow in her eyes. “Tell me,” she asked, “what are stylishly dressed stranded motorists wearing in Mountain View this season?”

He pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt in her size eight, and a flannel shirt in a men’s small from the men’s section. “Here you go, pretty lady—the ultimate in hiking chic.”

She blinked, appearing to be surprised by something, then she looked away nervously. What had he said? Joshua wondered, concerned. But then she reached out and touched the jeans, and he forgot his worry. There was something akin to wonder in her eyes now.

Then she shook her head and looked down at her feet. “I don’t think that outfit would go very well with my shoes.”

Joshua followed her gaze and shook his head. “There’s only one thing high heels are going to get you in Mountain View—broken ankles. But if you prefer to walk around for the next few days on eggshells, over here we have a section of dresses, skirts and the like.”

She looked longingly at the things in his hand. “They do look comfortable.”

He could hear the disappointment and resignation in her voice and see it in her blue-eyed gaze as she continued to stare at the clothes he held. “Jeans and shirts would really be your best bet,” he added, hoping to encourage her. It was as if some invisible force held her back.

Then an idea struck. One that might give her the push she needed. He snapped his fingers. “What shoe size do you wear?”

When she told him her size, Joshua smiled and breathed a little sigh. He didn’t believe in coincidence. The Lord provides, and she really wanted those jeans. “You’re in luck. You’re the same shoe size as Ma. She has a brand-spanking-new pair of tennis shoes that I seriously doubt she’ll ever break down and wear.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“The only reason they aren’t already out here in the shop is because I bought them for her. Knowing Ma, she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. You’d be doing her a favor if you took them off her hands.”

“They were a gift and—”

He grimaced. “What they were was a bad idea. It’s like I was buying them for someone else.” Not for the first time he wondered who. “House dresses and sensible shoes. That’s our Irma. Not tennis shoes. I must have lost my head as well as my sense in that store, but Mother’s Day loomed and I’d run out of ideas.”

She looked at him with a serious expression, then down at the rack near where she stood. “Oh, this is wonderful!” She grabbed a red-and-white snowflake sweater. Her blue eyes sparkled a little and even that small hint of joy did something to him. Her beauty took Joshua’s breath away. “I had one like this when I was a child. I guess some styles never go out of fashion.”

Joshua just stopped himself from telling her that the sweater could very well be older than she was. Instead he tried to tempt her to take the tennis shoes. “But you can’t wear that with a dress. Just won’t do.”

Her chin firmed. “It would be fine with a skirt,” she argued.

“But then there is that broken ankle to worry about,” he teased. “You could wind up the woman who came to dinner.”

She put a sassy hand on her hip. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn?”

Joshua smiled. In the hospital they’d all told him he was too stubborn to die. He guessed that counted. “Yep, sure have. I’m told it’s part of my charm. Now about those tennis shoes…”

She made a face that spoke of exasperation. “Oh, all right. But I insist on paying you what they cost.”

“Not necessary,” he told her, shaking his head.

She arched a delicate eyebrow, then looked around the shop. “Where did you say those skirts are?”

Joshua rolled his eyes and laughed. “And you call me stubborn. I’ll tell you what—you can pay, but only half. I’ll put the money in the till here at the shop. Like I said, the only reason she hasn’t put them in the shop already is that she’s worried about hurting my feelings.”

The bell over the door tinkled again, and Joshua turned to see Irma entering the shop, overburdened with a bundle. “Ma, what on earth possesses you?” he scolded as he rushed to her side. “Why didn’t you call me? I’d have run down to pick this up.” He took the bundle from her and dropped it on the wide counter.

Irma smacked him playfully on the arm. “Will you stop coddling me? It was more cumbersome than heavy, which you know by now since you snatched it from me! Miss Maria sent them down. There’s only a fluffy bedspread and a few dresses she’s worn to her shows in there. She promised there wasn’t a speck of paint on any of them. Maybe Miss—” Irma turned toward her latest stray “—I’m sorry, I never got a name.”

“Cassidy Jamison,” she said, and put out her hand to shake Irma’s. “I appreciate all your help, Irma.”

Irma reached out hesitantly and shook Cassidy Jamison’s hand, looking as if she’d just encountered an alien. Joshua grinned. Irma would have been more comfortable dispensing a bear hug. Most of the ladies of Mountain View hadn’t really caught up with the times. He knew that businesswomen always shook hands these days, but he doubted many of the residents around there were used to the gesture.

He frowned. This was the one thing he hated about outsiders coming to town. They always brought their way of doing things with them, and he understood those little social nuances without knowing how.

“Josh, are you okay?”

He snapped out of his troubling thoughts and realized that at some point he’d sunk onto the high stool behind the counter. Irma had come around to the back and stood in front of him cupping his cheek. Obviously worried, she stared into his eyes. Anxiety and hope warred in her lined face. He shook his head. “Thinking. That’s all, Ma.” He shrugged. “Just knew something I shouldn’t.”

And Irma nodded. Her lips still pursed with apprehension, she turned to Cassidy Jamison, who was staring at them with a puzzled look on her pretty face.

Embarrassed, Joshua pretended sudden interest in the large bag Irma had carried in. Then he remembered the tennis shoes.

“Ma,” he called to Irma, who had directed Cassidy’s attention to a second pair of jeans, “remember those tennis shoes I bought you for Mother’s Day?”

“Oh…ah…I’ll wear them next summer, dear. I promise.”

Joshua chuckled. “Now what would Henry say if he heard his wife tell a huge whopper like that? Ms. Jamison needs more practical footwear while she’s here if she’s going to survive for the next few days. And she’s your size. I figure this is your big chance to get rid of them gracefully.”

Irma grinned. “Oh, in that case, I’m sure I could part with them for such a worthy cause.”

“No, really. It’s fine,” Cassidy said quickly. “I’m sure I can manage.”

Irma patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t you pay a bit of attention to our teasing. Much as I hate to admit it, the tennis shoes just aren’t me.”

“Then I insist you let me pay you for them. That way you can buy yourself something to replace them.”

“Dear, there’s nothing on this earth I want that I don’t already have. I think that’s why Josh was so desperate when he bought them. Why don’t you look around some more? Take whatever you think you might want and try them on in your room. We can settle up when you pay for your stay. I know you were hoping to lie down. I’m going ahead to get dinner heated up. Joshua, will you show Ms. Jamison to her room when she’s done here?”

Joshua watched for the next several minutes as Cassidy Jamison added to her growing pile with surprising enthusiasm. “Goodness,” she exclaimed when the stack started to slip, “I can’t believe I found so many things I like.”

“Here, let me take those for you,” he said, coming out from behind the counter again.

“If all this fits me, I’ll need a suitcase when I leave.” She laughed, turning over her burden to him. “Where do all these things come from?”

Joshua blinked. Why had her laughter made his stomach knot? And was that an electric shock that he felt when she touched his arm? He frowned. He’d been feeling funny on and off since he’d first laid eyes on her. Supremely confused, he forced his thoughts off his reaction to her and on to her question.

“I got hold of some barrels and put them in the resort hotels and ski lodges within an hour’s drive of here. You wouldn’t believe the stuff people leave behind and never bother to claim. In fact, we have one or two suitcases in back if you want one. I think Henry put five-or ten-dollar price tags on them.”

Cassidy nodded. “Sounds like a plan. If I need one, we can add it to the tally for the clothes. And the amount those tennis shoes cost you.”

Joshua grinned. “Didn’t we agree that you’d only pay half what I did?” he put in with a raised eyebrow.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Half, if you give me the real price. I’ll know if you try to undersell.”

“They were a hundred and twenty dollars. Now, aren’t you sorry you asked?”

Cassidy smiled, though she looked pained. “The shoes I’m wearing cost three times that much and they have to be the most uncomfortable footwear I’ve ever had. I hate them. Believe me, the tennis shoes will be a bargain at twice the price.”

Joshua tossed her selections into a big trash bag, then slung it over his shoulder to haul it to the Ivory Room. He flipped on the floodlights and headed out the door. She followed him, and he noted she did so with careful steps. But the uneven gravel was apparently too much for her high heels. Joshua saw her teeter, and without thinking, he dropped the big bag and reached out to help her.

He didn’t know how Cassidy wound up in his arms, but somehow she did. She took a sharp breath and stiffened. Josh just held on, his mind in a whirl until he focused on her eyes. He noticed that close up she had golden flecks in widened blue eyes that he thought should sparkle instead of reflecting pain and sadness. She seemed more fragile suddenly, and he quickly helped her regain a steady footing.

Cassidy sat on the bed and watched the door close behind Joshua Daniel Tallinger. He was gorgeous. With dark-dark brown hair, saved from being black by just the hint of red highlights, huge deep-set eyes that were just as deep brown in color as his hair, a skin tone that looked permanently tanned, and shoulders that looked as if they could hold up the world. No wonder she’d been surprised when she met Henry Tallinger. She’d thought to find a man much like his son, only older. But like his wife, Henry was fair, with graying hair that had obviously once been blond. And he was nearly as short as Irma, too. In fact, the only similarity between Joshua and Henry was their dry sense of humor.

She looked around the room and tried to smile. It was a room fit for a Victorian princess. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel like a princess. She felt like that last five miles of bad road she’d been on as she approached the booming metropolis of Mountain View.

The whole fiasco that had been her day seemed unreal. She’d started out thinking she was about to be named Jamison Steel’s next vice president. And had wound up without a job and staying in a room in a rectory miles from civilization. Her car sat outside a rundown barn awaiting repair by a man who had probably never seen a car like hers. She’d been forced to shop in what looked like a turn-of-the-19th-century general store and a church thrift shop.

And now she was sitting in a part-time bed-and-breakfast, thinking about a country bumpkin preacher in jeans and flannel whom she found attractive. Really attractive.

Cassidy old girl, you’ve lost it!

She surveyed her surroundings again. She knew the difference between expensive antiques and just plain old aging furniture, and though Irma’s furniture would never sell at auction at Christie’s it was well cared for. She was sure the wallpaper was from an era gone by, but it still looked crisp and clean. Cassidy had a feeling that this was Irma Tallinger’s version of the presidential suite. And she suddenly felt honored to be staying there. Maybe Mountain View wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

The glass of water Joshua had brought her sloshed a little, reminding her she still hadn’t taken her ulcer medication or anything for her somewhat faded headache. After she swallowed the pills, she flopped back down on the bed, and her thoughts returned to the enigmatic son of the house. She soon drifted off to sleep, but the events of the day and those who had peopled it followed her into the night.