Lakeside Family. Lisa Jordan
making a mental note to salt the sidewalk.
Hannah’s narrow shoulders hunched against the blustery weather. “Hurry up, Mom. It’s so cold.”
“Really? And here I was taking my time so I could work on my tan.” Josie closed her eyes, flung out her free arm and raised her face to the sky.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” The biting air rouged Hannah’s cheeks and the tip of her upturned nose, adding a blush of color to her skin.
“Hold these, please.” Josie handed the box of tulips to Hannah, tugged her daughter’s hat down over her forehead and then rewrapped the purple-and-white-striped scarf around her neck.
“Need a hand?”
She turned to see Nick shutting the door to a shiny black Ford Ranger and stepping onto the sidewalk.
What was he doing here? They weren’t supposed to meet until later. She hadn’t talked to Hannah yet.
She gave him a tight smile and moved Hannah in front of her. “Thanks, but I got it.”
Come on, Lord, cut a girl a break here.
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Was he still there? Watching them? She snuck a peek over her shoulder.
Blowing into cupped hands, he stood about four feet behind them, eyes focused on them.
Did he have to watch her every move?
The key turned. Josie’s exhaled breath puffed against the glass as she opened the door.
Josie guided Hannah inside and pushed the door closed, but Nick shot forward and grabbed the handle. “Is it too early to come in?”
Josie darted a look between Hannah and him. Hannah gave her a curious look.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I can wait in my truck.” He thrust a thumb over his shoulder toward the street. He took a step back.
She paused. “No, don’t do that. Come in. I’ll have the coffee going in a few minutes.” She flicked on the interior light and flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN.
She handed him the Shelby Lake Gazette and gestured toward the high-backed stools hugging the counter. “Grab a chair. Coffee will be ready shortly.”
With no time for introductions, she and Hannah wove their way around the square tables, shed their coats in her office and then washed their hands. Hannah traded her winter hat for a pink checked newsboy cap and tugged it sideways on her head. She pulled her iPod and a book from her backpack. Grabbing a banana out of the hanging basket near the sink, she perched on a stool next to the stainless-steel counter where Josie rolled out her piecrusts.
Within minutes of starting the coffee, the mingling scents of the different blends breathed life into Josie and flowed through her as necessarily as her own blood. Even though she couldn’t drink coffee, she craved the smell.
The front door jangled.
Oh, no. Not yet. She wasn’t ready for customers—the coffee hadn’t finished brewing. The pastry case wore empty shelves. The candles hadn’t been lit. The fireplace lay cold.
Why, oh, why hadn’t she set her cell phone to go off, too?
Agnes pushed through the swinging kitchen door. “Sugar Pie, so sorry I’m late. I had no electricity and had to go to Mama’s to dry my hair.” She hung up her coat and fluffed snowflakes off her curls. “Back door stuck again? I nearly slid on my tush coming around to the front.”
Josie pointed to Agnes’s feet. “Wear something a little more sensible than those stiletto boots.”
Agnes struck a model pose. “But they make my legs look long and lean. Never know when Mr. Right is going to come along.”
“Didn’t you get your fill of marriage after your ex left you for that perky pop star wannabe?” Josie twisted her hair and clipped it in a messy updo, pulling down a few loose curls to frame her face.
Agnes made a face. “What’s up with Mr. Yummy at the counter out there? Picking up strays again?”
Josie glanced at Hannah and gave Agnes a slight shake of her head.
Agnes’s eyebrows notched into a V and then her eyes widened as her mouth puckered into an O.
Josie nodded, appreciating her friend’s understanding. “At least we baked last night. Mind filling the pastry case while I get the store ready?”
“Not at all.” Agnes changed her boots into more sensible shoes, then washed and dried her hands. She dropped a kiss on Hannah’s temple, leaving behind a lipstick imprint. “How are you, darlin’?”
Hannah smiled and fingered one of Agnes’s large gold hoops. “Hey, Aggie. Love your earrings. Someday I’ll be allowed to get my ears pierced.”
Josie pressed the back of her hand against her forehead and sagged against the counter. “Oh, the perils of being a kid.”
Hannah shot her a look that said she was not amused. Josie shrugged and bit the inside of her lip.
“Sugar Pie, you have the rest of your life to play grown-up. Don’t you be rushing anything now. You hear me?” Agnes grabbed two blue aprons and tossed one to Josie. “And don’t be giving your mama a big to-do about it. She’s doing right by making you wait.”
“Seriously, I just don’t see what the big deal is about getting my ears pierced.”
Josie tied the apron around her waist and smoothed the front. “The big deal is we agreed you could get them done when you turn ten. Keep griping about it and I’ll make you wait until you’re sixteen.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” Josie raised an eyebrow at her daughter.
“So not fair. Especially for a sick kid.” Hannah returned to her book.
Josie tugged on one of the earbuds to snag her daughter’s attention. “Don’t play that card with me, kiddo. I mean it.”
“Sorry.” Hannah leaned against Josie.
Josie swallowed the apple-size lump in her throat. Her eyes connected with Agnes’s, which seemed overly bright.
Less than ten minutes later, Josie carried full pots of today’s special blends—Almond Toffee Crunch and Hazelnut Cream—and placed them on the coffee bar to the left of the register. She turned to head back into the kitchen for the regular and decaf, but paused and cocked her head.
What was that scraping sound?
She threaded her way around the tables to the front window. Outside the shop, Nick had cleared the ice. And now he tossed handfuls of ice melter on the sidewalk.
With trying to get the shop ready, she had forgotten about the sidewalks. Something deep shimmied to the surface, filling her with warmth at his thoughtfulness.
As a teenager, he had always been willing to lend a hand.
He looked up and lifted his hand in greeting.
He still had a really great smile. Not that she paid attention to him specifically or anything. Working with the public, a girl noticed these things.
She turned away, and nearly tripped over a chair. A quick peek over her shoulder showed he had indeed seen her klutzy move. His grin sent heat across her cheeks.
Way to go, Josie.
A few minutes later, the door opened. Nick returned the bucket of ice melter and shovel behind the front door where he had found them.
Josie plated a chocolate chip muffin and warmed it in the microwave. She grabbed a stout-bellied glass mug off the shelf behind the register and then carried them to the front counter where Nick had shrugged out of his bomber jacket. Water droplets dampened his hair. The tips of his ears were reddened from the cold. Dressed in a light blue