Small Town Secrets. Sharon Mignerey
and sat down next to him.
“The breakfast tasted great.” The corner of his mouth kicked up. “But then, compared to the food in prison, I’ll probably be thinking everything tastes great for a while.”
His casual reference to having been in prison surprised her, and, in spite of herself, made her smile.
He smiled back. “So I doubt you’ll be wanting to use me as a reference.”
Her smile grew into a chuckle. “Actually, I was thinking I could add your endorsement to the menu board.” She wrote in the air as she said, “Better than prison food.”
“You were in prison?” Kim asked, setting a tray of salt and pepper shakers that needed to be refilled on the counter.
“Yep.”
She made a point of looking him up and down. “Sadie sure never said a word about that.” She began twisting the tops off the salt shakers. “She does know, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she knows,” Zach said. “In fact, I wouldn’t have made it through the last three years without her.”
“Well, you must be doing something right. Sadie Graff is the best judge of character of about anyone I know. There’s no pulling the wool over her eyes. You tell her a secret, you can be sure it will stay a secret.” Kim glanced at Léa. “But you knew, didn’t you?”
Léa nodded. Twice during the last year, she had driven Sadie to Cañon City to visit Zach at the prison, which was the only reason Léa knew anything. Kim was completely right—Sadie kept her own council. Just as she had during those two visits, Léa found herself wondering why Zach had inspired such faith and such loyalty.
“So…ah, what were you in for?” Kim asked.
“Kim!” Léa felt her cheeks flush.
“I can’t see Sadie putting up an ax murderer,” Kim said, ignoring Léa.
“I can’t see that, either,” Zach agreed, his attention remaining on Léa. His smile faded, and his eyes became even darker as though he had somehow looked inward. Regret tinged his voice when he added, “I was convicted of vehicular homicide.”
The expression in his dark eyes was unreadable to Léa, but she had the feeling he was trying to convey something important to her. Something well beyond the words he was saying to Kim.
The jangle of the telephone made her jump. She slid off the stool and went behind the counter to the phone. “The Pine Street Café,” she said after putting the receiver to her ear.
“You must be busy,” came her aunt Margaret’s voice over the line, “since it took you so long to pick up.”
“It was a good morning,” Léa said. “And the third ring isn’t that long.” In front of her Zach chuckled in response to something Kim said. Then it hit her what was different. He was more relaxed than he had been before the café closed. Had his easy confession been practicing somehow for the other conversations he was bound to have unless he became a hermit?
When he had first come into the café, he had looked lonely, uncomfortable. Moving someplace new and making friends wasn’t ever easy, and she had no doubt it would be even more difficult in his situation.
Léa suspected it was only a matter of time before everyone in town knew Zach was just out of prison. She doubted most other people would have Kim’s open reaction to him. But then, most other people didn’t have Kim’s deeply held belief of “judge not lest ye be judged.” Léa found herself tempted to feel sorry for Zach. He might have paid his debt to society, but he’d still be viewed with suspicion. She had been so determined merely to be polite—she owed Sadie that much—and definitely keep her distance, so the sympathy Léa felt for him surprised her.
Sympathy? She gave herself a mental shake. The last thing she wanted to feel for this man was sympathy. She knew too well what happened to a man who loved his alcohol too much to give it up. Whether Zach’s apparent regret was over the time he had spent in prison or the death he had caused, Léa didn’t know. If she had learned anything since her hasty marriage to Foley, it was that she didn’t need…or want…anything to do with an alcoholic. Oh, sure, she understood it was a disease, but drinking was the choice he had made over and over. No way did she want that in her life again.
“Léa?” came her aunt’s voice over the phone.
“Yes, what?” Léa dragged her attention back to what her aunt was saying. To keep her attention from straying back to Zach, she turned to face the wall.
“You haven’t forgotten about those six dozen cupcakes I’m donating to the Grange Hall bake sale? I’ll need those tomorrow, you know.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Léa said. The six dozen cupcakes I’m donating, she silently added. Both her aunts loved to show off Léa’s baked goods, but they also expected Léa to donate them on their behalf.
“You really should donate something yourself,” Aunt Margaret added. “It’s for a good cause, you know. Those poor children depend on us for their school supplies.”
“I know.” Léa heard the bell above the front door jangle, and when she turned around, Zach had gone. “I’ll have to see what I have time to do.”
“And don’t forget, Jackie is counting on you to bring some of your yummy cucumber sandwiches to our party this Friday.”
Léa hadn’t forgotten about that, either. She loved her aunts, she really did. Some days, though, she also wished they would see her business as something other than their private—not to mention free—catering company.
After saying goodbye, she hung up the telephone as she stared out the window and watched Zach walk across the street and go into the police station.
“He seems like a nice man,” Kim said while she continued to refill the salt shakers.
Nice? That wasn’t the word Léa would have applied to him, though she admitted he had been nothing but polite both last night and today.
“Foley seemed to have more than usual on his mind today,” Kim added.
Now there was another man she didn’t want to think about. “He found out about my adoption application.” Léa erased the breakfast specials off the whiteboard, then began writing down the lunch specials. “And he’s trying to convince me that I can’t do it alone.”
“Lots of women raise children alone.”
“And he somehow got into my house again.”
“I thought you had just changed the locks.” Kim picked up the tray of shakers and began setting them back down on the various tables.
“I did.” Léa shook her head. “I’m going to talk to Scotty over at the hardware store and make sure he didn’t do something stupid—like making a copy of the key for Foley when he made new ones for me.”
“Sounds like you need a security system.”
Léa nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that. Of course if it goes off, the police—”
“And Foley,” Kim interrupted, “will answer the call.”
“Yeah.”
Kim set the last of the shakers on a table, then came across the room toward Léa. “I’ve got an important question for you.” She came to a stop and put her hand on Léa’s shoulder. “Is he just being a pain like he usually is? Or…are you physically in danger?”
“He’s a pain.” Léa stared at her friend. All at once her heart pounded like a gong, last night’s remembered fear vibrating through her. “Just a pain, that’s all.” Humiliating her, badgering her and calling her names when she didn’t agree with him didn’t put her in physical danger—though she always came away from their altercations feeling physically battered. The only night he had laid hands on her during an argument