by Elder, Jan;
Cassidy closed the menu. “Works for me. Gabby?”
“Can I have veggies on half? I’m trying to be good.” Gabby directed the question at Blake. “Please?”
“You got it, and you have no reason to worry about your figure.” His mouth curved into a smile. “You can have anything you want on your twenty-first birthday.”
Gabby’s smile reappeared.
“What’s your preference, Cassidy?” Hunter unrolled his own flatware and propped his elbows on the table.
“Anything that doesn’t involve anchovies.”
They ordered a large pizza, half veggie, half sausage and pepperoni, and the waitress scurried off to the neighboring table.
Blake shifted in his seat until he was facing Gabby. “So, birthday girl, explain your great idea.”
“I thought we could take suggestions for a truffle of the month from our customers. Practically everyone filled out the little form, and in a couple of weeks, I’ll choose something interesting.”
Hunter chuckled inside as Blake hung on Gabby’s every word.
“Brilliant. I vote for an anchovy truffle with extra cheese.”
Cassidy wrinkled her nose and swatted Hunter’s arm. “Yuck.”
Their drinks arrived along with bruschetta piled high with diced tomatoes, onions, and basil—a house specialty. Hunter served Cassidy the best-looking slice.
Cassidy scooted the plate of crispy bread between Gabby and Blake. “Hey, Blake, thanks for putting us on the front page. Over half of our customers checked off that they heard about us because of today’s article.”
Gabby’s brows arched. “They did? Thanks, Blake.”
“Do you think I could say no to Gabby’s big brown eyes?” Blake beamed at his date.
Yes, Gabby was a good match for Blake. Now, if Hunter could get his own love life in order… He grabbed a piece of bread. “You ladies going to the retreat in a few weeks?”
Cassidy’s forehead furrowed. “Don’t know. Isn’t it from Friday through Sunday?”
“Yeah. Starts at seven on Friday night, and we should be finished up around noon on Sunday.”
Cassidy bit into a chunk of bruschetta. “I don’t see how Gabby and I can do it. Sounds like fun, but I’d imagine Saturday will be our busiest day at the shop.”
Blast. He really wanted Cassidy to come. Gabby, too. He’d have to come up with a way to make it happen.
Gabby passed around what was left of the appetizer. “I’m sure Kayla wouldn’t mind working. We could find somebody to help her.”
The squeak of Cassidy’s wheels turning was nearly audible. “I’ll give that some serious consideration. There’s a lot more to managing a business than I’d initially thought. I meet myself coming and going already, and I don’t want to overload anybody, including me. I had a plan and then realized what works in Chicago won’t cut it in this small town.”
The pizza arrived amid cheers, the aroma of spicy sausages swirling around them.
Hunter doled out slices all around. “Hey, we’re not that small anymore. New housing developments are springing up all over the place, and the mall on the other side of town is about to open.”
Cassidy’s eyes widened. “I had no idea. I have got to get out more.”
They kicked around ideas for the newspaper, Savannah’s Sweets, and Cassidy’s business plans for the shop. When one slice of pizza was left, Hunter and Blake offered it to the girls. They ended up splitting it.
Hunter leaned back, managing to brush Cassidy’s shoulder with his own. “Cassidy, where’s your car? I didn’t see it in the lot.”
“Per your recommendation, I called your friend, Aaron, and he’s getting the spray paint off. He brought me to work this morning.”
Hunter tilted his head slightly, the scent of Cassidy’s light, floral perfume tickling his nose. He inhaled the sweet fragrance. “Aaron’s the best. I’ll be happy to drive you home. Hey, does anybody want dessert?”
Gabby giggled. “Cassidy and I already had cake today—twice. Once for breakfast and once for lunch. I brought both of you a good-sized wedge.”
“Sounds great. Is everybody ready to go then?” Hunter signaled for the check. “Dinner’s on me.”
“I’ll pay for me and Gabby.” Blake reached for the check, but Hunter pulled it back.
Cassidy frowned. “I invited you guys. You shouldn’t have to pay.”
Hunter held the check high over her head and refused to give it up. If he paid, it was a certified date, and he was hanging on to that. Plus, Cassidy was a lot of fun to tease. “Next time. To both of you.”
Cassidy huffed and made a grab for it but ultimately gave in. “OK then, if it means that much to you. Thanks.” She tapped Gabby on the hand. “Hunter and I have a little surprise for you and, Blake, you’re invited, too.”
Gabby clapped her hands. “What is it?”
“You’ll see.” Cassidy twisted and reached underneath the table for her purse.
Hunter tucked a few bills under the check, swung out of his seat to give her room to move, and nearly tripped over Dr. Kimberly. He backpedaled.
“How lovely to bump into you, Hunter.”
He sidled a step to the right and nodded. “Dr. Kimberly.”
When the vet was at the farm last, she’d come on a little strong. He hoped she kept her hands to herself this time.
~*~
Cassidy closed her eyes and counted to five but the image of Dr. Kimberly fawning all over Hunter refused to fade. There was no other way to describe her flirtatious smile. And the way she brushed a lingering hand on his forearm was irritating. Was he falling for her charms or just being polite? And why did Cassidy care?
“You can call me Kim, Hunter. You know that.”
Cassidy’s lips puckered. Kimberly made her itch, especially clad in that tight top, short shirt, not to mention the come hither glances. Pricked by her conscience, a douse of guilt rained down and hit Cassidy, splat on the forehead. She wasn’t being kind. She stuck a smile on her face, leaned around Hunter, and waved a hand at the woman.
Hunter tucked his jacket under his arm. “We were just leaving, Doctor, but nice to see you. Have a good night.”
At least he wasn’t going to loiter. To her surprise, Hunter took her hand and pulled her toward the exit. He was acting as though this were a real date. It felt nice. Maybe too nice. But she would accept his invitation for a ride back to the house. Then Blake and Gabby could go together.
They blindfolded Gabby and Cassidy couldn’t help but grin in anticipation. Gabby loved surprises.
On the quick trip back, Cassidy and Hunter had a fine time predicting Gabby’s reaction to their adventure.
Hunter turned into his driveway and drove around to the front of the barn, Blake driving Gabby’s car close behind.
Blake ran around to open Gabby’s door and she clambered out and stood on unsteady feet. “Where are we?”
“You’ll see.” Blake threw his arm around her and steered her toward the barn.
The four of them traipsed into the barn, the air redolent with warm animal smells.
Marigold turned her head at the sight of Hunter. “Mooooo!”
Gabby whipped off her blindfold and ran to Marigold’s stall where Buttercup stood next to her mother. “Aw, Hunter. How sweet. She’s so much bigger than I thought she’d be. Can I pet her?”
“Of course.” Hunter opened the stall door and Gabby tiptoed in, her arms outstretched.
Hunter told the story of Buttercup’s harrowing birth while Gabby hugged the calf.
Cassidy replayed the long night in her head. She’d conquered her fear of large animals, but then Marigold was extra-special. Talking with Hunter hadn’t been bad—she actually enjoyed herself. And she’d let down her guard, a rare occurrence.
“Hunter, I’ll bet Gabby would love to see the kids.”
Hunter led them to the other side of the barn.
One of the goat kids, amazingly long-legged for such a little creature, wa
ndered over and nosed Gabby’s hand through the fence.
The wonder in Gabby’s eyes warmed Cassidy from the inside out.
“How old are they?” Gabby lavished attention on the baby goat.
Hunter reached over the enclosure wall and scooped up the spindly little critter, setting her down next to Gabby. “They’re nine weeks, weaned and eating grass and grain. In case you couldn’t tell, they’re quite friendly. They had a good upbringing.” Hunter dragged over a couple of stools, and several curious kids lost their shyness and trotted over to the fence.
Gabby sank to the ground and pulled spindly-legs into her lap. “Do they have names?”
“I was planning to name them after trees. Any ideas on this one?”
“How about Willow? Seems to fit, what with her long skinny legs.” Gabby lifted her chin and beamed, eyes aglow. “Thank you all. This is the best birthday ever.”
Cassidy’s spirits lightened. She’d missed so many of Savannah’s birthdays. Somehow making Gabby’s a little more special assuaged the guilt a bit.
Blake landed next to Gabby and stroked the kid’s flank.
Cassidy stretched out her hand and petted the baby goat with the long legs and the floppy ears. OK, maybe goats weren’t so bad either.
“You’re welcome here anytime, Gabby.” Hunter draped an arm over Cassidy’s shoulder and drew her close. He whispered in her ear. “Good call on inviting Blake. And you are most certainly invited back anytime.”
For the brief time he’d clasped her fingers in the restaurant, she’d loved the feel of her hand in his. And now this? She longed to lean into him and snuggle closer, but he’d hurt her deeply ten years ago, whether he realized it or not. It hung there between them. If she opened up to him, the embarrassment would be more than she could bear. Such a big deal back then. Now, she was a different person, and so was he.
Cassidy glanced up into Hunter’s dark, soulful eyes. He was staring at her with a full-blown smile on his face. His gaze fell to her mouth. She pulled back, leaned on the fence, and dipped her head. Her chest rose and fell as she inhaled farm life in all its glory. She was falling for this man all over again. And it hurt to fall. Her heart still beat black and blue.
16
“Hillary, we discussed this, and I thought you understood. If you won’t interview employees, I’ll be happy to, but I have to shift gears and let you fly on your own.” Hunter crossed his arms.
Hillary backed up and crashed down into her wheelchair with a hard thump. She winced and shifted her hips. “It’s because you’re spending too much time with her, isn’t it?”
“Her?”
“Cassie.”
“You mean Cassidy? Yeah, we’ve been seeing each other some, but I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”
“Just because I’m stuck here most of the time doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on.”
“You’re not stuck here. You can drive anywhere you want to. Your car is a heck of a lot more reliable than my truck.”
“Yeah, those hand controls make it so much fun to drive.” Hillary rolled her eyes. “But what I was referring to is Cookies, Cakes, and Cobblers is going down the tubes and you’re playing around with that loser. She’s exactly like her sister. A sneak.”
Hunter scratched his head. “Savannah? You knew Savannah?”
“We hadn’t talked for years, but how could you not know she was my best friend in middle school?”
“Hillary, do you think I paid attention to who you were hanging out with when you were thirteen? You had your friends, I had mine.”
“You were oblivious then, and you’re oblivious now.” Hillary skewered him with a glare that would crystallize steam.
This conversation was going nowhere. Hunter picked up his sweater and slung it over his shoulder. “I’m completely at a loss here, but let’s start at the beginning. Do you want me to interview potential candidates, or do you want to do it? You can’t bake, sell, and deliver all by yourself.”
Hillary’s face soured, her lips curling down at the edges. “No kidding. You do it then. What do I care?”
Trying to reason with his sister was akin to hitting his head against a stone wall. “Fine. I’ll talk to Blake about putting an ad in the paper. And maybe I’ll ask around at church.”
“I don’t want one of those churchy people working here. I don’t need to hear a sermon every day.”
Hunter spun on his heel and headed toward the door. “I’ll find someone good. Just let me handle it, OK? Like I told you, I’m leaving for a quick trip to Vermont sometime tonight, but I’ll interview potential candidates when I get back. And don’t forget my friend Zach will be here in the morning to do the deliveries.”
Hillary muttered a curse and thwacked a pan on the island.
Ears ringing, Hunter closed the door with a gentle click and hurried to his truck. He and his little sister had never been close, but they’d at least been civil. He hated to see her this way. So bitter, so angry. She’d had a tough road to travel after her accident, but that was a couple of years ago now.
He turned the key in the ignition and the truck sputtered and caught. He patted the dash, fondly. His father had given him the truck when he’d sold him the farm. He’d been very generous with the terms, and Hunter was grateful. His goal was to pay the balance as quickly as possible, but he might have to cut back on the extra payments.
His father had also fronted Hillary money to start her business. Hunter and his dad had redesigned her kitchen with lowered counters and added equipment she could reach easily. And Hunter had come up with a business plan and worked hard to get the bakery off the ground.
Hunter shook his head. His sister was one smart cookie. Despite her leg injuries, she could have a rich, full life. But instead, she elected to hole herself up in her house and rail at God. Maybe if she were working with a new person, she’d perk up. He could only hope and pray.
His truck lurched as he exited the parking lot, passing his giant of a freeloading cousin, Kyle, on the way out. Maybe he should have stopped to say hello, but he wasn’t sorry to have missed him. Let Hillary deal with him. Hunter waved and sped off to see Blake.
He idled at a light, the engine rattling, hesitating, and at long last smoothing out. A box of dark chocolate éclairs skidded across the seat as he made a quick turn toward the newspaper. He grabbed it right before it hit the floor. Blake would never forgive him if he arrived without breakfast.
After he was done at the Courier, he’d go home and pack, and then take off for Vermont. The Green Mountain State was a long way off, but if he drove hard, he’d be there by morning. He needed to get away. Get some perspective. Hunter parked in front of the Courier building and breezed in, gripping the coveted box of baked goods.
Blake greeted him with a grin. “Hey Hunter. You’re late.”
“I brought you two éclairs, so that should count for something.”
“OK, then. You’re forgiven. Have time for a cup of coffee?”
“Not today. I’m here on business. After using all of my expert skills of persuasion, I talked Hillary into hiring help.”
“About time, man. From what you’ve said, you hardly have time to lay your head on a pillow. How’s Hillary feeling these days?”
Hunter leaned on the counter. How to say this in a nice way? “Physically, she’s been pretty stable for a long time now. Emotionally, she can’t seem to get past the accident.”
“She dropped the lawsuit, though, right?”
“Yeah.” He debated telling Blake the whole story, worried about being disloyal to his sister.
“You OK?”
Hunter swallowed, his mouth as dry as baking powder. He really had to talk to somebody. The guilt was eating him alive. “After the accident, lawyers oozed out of the woodwork to represent her. Recently, after two long years, it came out that not only was Hillary walking in the middle of the road—after dark mind you—but she was also legally intoxicated. The driver who struck her w
as exonerated. Hillary had no choice but to drop the suit.”
“Wow. I don’t know who I feel sorrier for. Hillary’s legs will never be the same, but the guy who hit her has to feel terrible, even if it wasn’t his fault. What a horrible situation.”
Hunter grabbed a pen and tapped on the counter. “It is. I can’t even shake my own guilt.”
Blake rocked back and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “Why are you feeling responsible?”
Hunter’s forehead creased. “That night, she asked me to go to the bar with her, and I bowed out. I wasn’t into that anymore. After midnight, she called me and begged for a ride home. Said the bartender had confiscated her car keys again, which was good. At least she couldn’t drive home.”
Blake pinched off a piece of éclair. “No excuse for driving buzzed. Ever.”
“Yeah. I told her to stay put, and I called her a cab. When the cab got there, she was gone. She was so hammered she’d tried to walk home. In heels. She was half a mile from the bar when the car rounded a curve and hit her.” Hunter’s gut seized, the image of her lying in the road, broken and bleeding, flickering through his mind like a neon sign on the fritz.
Blake groaned. “And you’ve been carrying this burden for two long years?”
“I should have done more. I let her down.”
“You know that’s crazy, right? She’s responsible for her own choices.”
“I’m working through it. I’ve prayed about it—a lot—and my head gets it. Still, when she screeches at me, I tend to cave and do whatever she wants.” Hunter stopped tapping and twirled the pen around his fingers. “But no more. I do know it’s time to let her sink or swim on her own. I can’t keep rescuing her. And she needs help from someone who isn’t me.”
“Did you know Charity’s job-hunting?”
“Charity? Your little sister, Charity? I didn’t know she was out of school.”
“Yep. She got her degree in Art History from the University of Maryland, but you know how that goes. She’s close to asking, ‘do you want fries with that?’ What are the job requirements?”
Hunter snorted. “Working with Hillary is the biggest challenge. Seriously, though, we need someone to deliver the baked goods around town and help my sister with the baking. Not sure how that jives with her degree.”