Читать книгу Wanted: The Perfect Mom - T. R. McClure - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

MAC COULD SEE HOLLY, arm outstretched, backing toward the door. Realizing she was coming through that door with no idea someone stood on the other side, he stepped away just as the door burst open. Everything would have been fine if someone hadn’t left a flowerpot sitting in the middle of the walkway. With the heel of his boot catching the edge of the pot, Mac found himself cartwheeling toward the edge of the porch.

He had to give Holly credit for a quick reaction. She grabbed the front of his shirt and reversed his momentum. “A little clumsy this morning, Chief.”

The mischievous grin left her face as Mac’s backward motion transferred to forward motion and she found herself pressed to the wall of the bakery. Mac’s hands landed on either side of her head as he tried to prevent himself from smashing into her.

Her expression a mixture of surprise and alarm, Holly shoved at his chest. “What the heck, McAndrews?”

Hands still pressed to the wall, Mac stared at Holly. Her green eyes locked on his face, her lips parted. Mac’s memory brought up a picture of a fifteen-year-old Holly, holding an orange flower in the palm of her hand, smiling up at him. He took a slow breath. “Are you—”

“Get off me, McAndrews. You’re squishing me.”

This time Mac’s jaw dropped. “You grabbed me.” He backed up a step. “And may I remind you who just came plowing through that door like a runaway horse?”

“Did you just call me a horse?” Holly brushed off his hands and pushed past him. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

She stalked down the boardwalk toward the coffee shop. When she reached her door, she turned and shot him a laser beam of a look that sent a shiver up his spine. What was her problem?

He escaped into the bakery and shut the door with a sigh of relief. Holly wasn’t fifteen anymore. She had grown into a strong, smart woman, just as he always knew she would. And if she didn’t like him very much, well, that didn’t come as a surprise.

He glanced at Sue, expecting a smile. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Well, did you find anything out?”

His eyes lighted on the cookie jar clock, hoping against hope it was quitting time.

It wasn’t.

And who was he kidding? No such thing as quitting time for the chief of police.

* * *

HOLLY RACED INTO the shop and slammed the door. Striding over to the counter, she leaned on it and took a deep breath. Why, after six months, was that man suddenly underfoot? She closed her eyes.

She had liked him at first, when Chris brought the new kid to the family Christmas party. Then when she saw him in gym class, everything changed. He was nowhere near the nice, polite boy who helped her father set up the Christmas tree that had fallen victim to one of her brothers’ all-too-common tussles. He had everybody fooled. Everybody except her.

She slapped a hand over her chest and belatedly looked around the room, hoping no customers had observed the owner’s brief foray into madness. No one had. The teens were gone, the blonde was gone and apparently her mother and Louise were gone. Her pounding heart slowed. “Mom?”

A voice wafted from the far corner of the store. “Over here.”

Holly went around a wall divider and peeked into an alcove stacked with books and magazines. Her mother lay sprawled on a beanbag chair, studying a business magazine. Holly propped her hands on her hips. “Comfortable, are we?”

Rose laughed as she struggled to rise from the chair, which kept collapsing as she pushed on it. She reached out a hand. “Pull me up, honey.”

Holly gripped the outstretched hand and pulled. “What were you doing?”

Rose straightened her apron and returned the magazine to a neat pile on a shelf. “I was straightening up this area and I happened to see an article on bed-and-breakfasts. I had to read it.”

“Of course.” Holly followed her mother to the counter. “You should head home anyway. Dad’s probably waiting for his dinner.” She drummed her fingers on the counter as her mother removed her apron. “What’s he up to today?”

Her mother folded the apron into a small square of fabric before answering. “When I left this morning he was putting the finishing touches on the backyard gazebo. He’s always doing something, you know. He can’t seem to sit still.” She rested a hand on Holly’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be down soon, honey. He’s proud of you.”

“He’s so proud of me he refused to offer me the same terms as Sonny and Thomas because he thinks I don’t have business sense.” Her father would rather do hard labor than visit Holly’s coffee shop. He had told her in no uncertain terms that leaving the air force was a mistake, that she should “tough it out.”

“Oh, Holly.”

She squeezed her mother’s hands. “Thank you, Mom, for your help. I wish I had the money to pay you.”

Rose laid a hand on her cheek. “Of course, sweetheart.” She carried the folded apron into the kitchen. When she came out she had two paperback books in her hand and her purse looped over her shoulder. “You don’t owe me anything. Look at all the free books I get to read.”

Laughing, Holly propped both elbows on the counter as her mother passed with a wave. “Wonder who the blonde lady was.” A stranger in their little town stood out and usually ended up being someone’s relative.

Rose paused, her hand on the doorknob. She turned, brow wrinkled in thought. “What did you say, dear?”

“The blonde who was drinking a cappuccino, working on a laptop. She doesn’t look like a local.”

Rose leaned against the open door and put a finger to her lips. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve guessed she was Mac McAndrews’s wife. But of course she can’t be. His wife passed away three years ago.”

“How do you know what she looked like?” Holly’s antenna emerged. Mac was married to a woman who looked like the blonde cappuccino-drinker?

“Chris showed me a picture once. She was on the cover of an equestrian magazine.” Rose turned in the doorway, hands clasping her books to her middle. “Beautiful woman. Bye, dear.”

With a backward wave she was gone, leaving Holly to wonder: after he’d been married to a woman like that, who could possibly meet Mac McAndrews’s standards? She pitied the next woman to fall under his spell.

Holly looked up as the bell over the door jingled. “Mom, did you forget—”

Instead of her mother, Holly was greeted with the sight of Sonny, the expression on his ruddy face intense. He flipped her sign to Closed and locked the door. “Mom’s halfway home.”

Holly held up a hand like a stop sign, her eyes closed as she anticipated her brother’s wrath. “Whatever you’re going to say—”

“I’m not saying anything. Carolyn said you might need help cleaning up.” He walked behind the counter and stared at the dual coffeemaker. “Is it okay if I turn this off and empty the pots?”

Holly stared at her brother, momentarily taken aback at the offer of help. Go figure. I can’t even understand my own brothers half the time. Men. “Sure, just dump the coffee in the sink and rinse with water.” She tapped her fingers restlessly on the counter. “Thanks.”

Sonny grabbed a container and easily lifted the heavy pot to the drain board. “No problem.”

“Mom already covered the pastries so I guess I’ll—” she looked around the room at the crumb-littered tables and chairs moved about “—wipe everything down and put things back where they belong.”

An hour later, the counters sparkled, the floor was mopped, and Sonny and Holly stood on the front porch. The sun was poised on the tops of the distant mountains, as if protesting its coming demise.

“Thanks, bro.” Holly wrapped an arm around her brother’s waist and squeezed. She started down the steps.

“Hold on. I’ll give you a ride. My truck’s right here.” He pointed to his dust-covered white pickup with toolboxes and a ladder rack in the bed.

“Okay.” Holly opened the door of the big truck only to find a bag of power tools on the passenger seat.

“Let me do some rearranging.” Sonny grabbed the bag and stuck it behind his seat. “How’s that?”

“Fine. Now all I need is a step stool to get into this thing.” Holly reached for the handgrip and hoisted herself onto the seat.

Sonny slammed his door with a screech and backed out of the parking spot. “The girl I knew jumped onto the back of a sixteen-hand horse with no problem.” He glanced at her, his eyes squinting in the glare from the setting sun.

Holly nodded and waved as they passed Mrs. Hershberger, planting pansies by the front stoop of her small ranch house. “A lot can change in ten years.”

Sonny didn’t answer as he pulled into the long driveway of the Victorian house her parents had converted into a bed-and-breakfast. When they’d first purchased the fixer-upper, Holly thought the old house was a dead ringer for the Amityville Horror house. She’d had her doubts about the wisdom of turning it into a B and B, but unlike her father, who had repeatedly advised her against leaving the military, Holly kept her comments to herself.

Her parents and Sonny had been able to see something else and after a summer of renovations, the bed-and-breakfast was now one of the most popular stays in the area. It was only May and they were booked solid for every weekend Penn State was playing at home. A sign on the manicured front lawn said Flowers Bed and Breakfast. He cut the engine and the two sat in silence. “You were a little prickly with Mac earlier. How come?”

Holly picked at a chunk of chocolate syrup stuck to her jeans. She wasn’t sure herself why the sight of Mac McAndrews stirred up such conflicting emotions. “It’s a long story.” Not wanting to see the look on her brother’s face, she continued to work at the stain. Sonny had been in the military the year Mac started coming around. He had no idea the turmoil the newcomer had caused and she wasn’t about to tell him.

“And you didn’t know Chief Stone died? You were home at Christmas. He died the beginning of January.”

“I was either running to Pittsburgh researching supplies or working at the store. I didn’t know which end was up. I hardly ever saw Mom, and I for sure wasn’t reading the obituaries.” Holly glanced into the neighbor’s yard, where their obviously pregnant black Lab entertained herself with a stick. “I didn’t know Daisy was having puppies. I thought Fran just wanted one litter.”

“Don’t change the subject. What about Mac? Why were you so rude? When you’re in business, Holly, you have to be polite to everyone, even if you feel like tossing them out the door.”

“Quit treating me like I’m an imbecile. You think you’re the only one who can run a business?” Holly shifted on the hard vinyl seat. When Sonny didn’t respond, she continued. “Besides, like I said, I’ve had a lot on my mind. When I heard the pet store closed and saw the vacant storefront at Thanksgiving, I made up my mind to leave the military. Everything happened so fast.”

Sonny pulled two pencils, a small tablet, assorted business cards and his phone out of his pocket and tossed them in the center console. “You sure did make a lot of changes in a short period of time.” He caught her eye. “But you still haven’t explained why you were so hard on Mac this morning. You haven’t seen the guy since high school and if something happened back then...” Sonny peered at her in the gathering darkness and his voice took on a serious note when he asked, “Did something happen back then?”

Holly forced a laugh. “Nothing bad happened. We just didn’t get along.”

“That’s kid stuff, then. But whatever had you so fired up this morning, you need to let go. Mac’s had some rough times since he left home.” Sonny punched her in the shoulder. “Any regrets about the coffee shop?”

“Ouch.” Holly rubbed her shoulder. Her brother didn’t know his own strength. “So far, I have no regrets whatsoever.” She sighed. “But if I don’t pay Dad back by the end of the year I’ll never hear the end of it, not to mention losing all my savings. Then I’m sure I’ll have plenty of regrets.”

“I don’t know why Dad is pressing you for such a quick turnaround. Thomas and I both had three years to show a profit.” Sonny pushed open his door and stepped out.

“No kidding.”

“Maybe you should serve soup and sandwiches for lunch.”

“I don’t cook. Remember?” Sonny’s habit of making business suggestions was okay but sometimes she just wished people would mind their own business. Soup and sandwiches? I barely have the espresso recipes memorized. She slid down from the seat, slammed the door and said, “Maybe. Someday.”

Leaning on the open door, he gave her an appraising look. “Hey, you got your first day in. Congratulations. Let’s see if Dad left anything from dinner.”

Holly followed her brother to the side door. “I knew you had an ulterior motive. Didn’t you already eat?”

“Scout night means slim pickings at my house. I’m starved.”

Holly slapped him on the shoulder as they entered her mother’s kitchen and were greeted with the lingering smell of pot roast. “You’re always starved.” As annoying as Sonny could be, Holly had to admit she’d missed teasing and being teased by her brother. That was one thing that hadn’t changed since she’d been gone.