She gripped the fancy brass handle of the door and pulled it open. “I thought you read.”
“I do, but I read good stuff like Ender’s Game and Harry Potter.”
Inside, the room smelled like a public library minus the sour scent of unbathed homeless men. She knew that smell well. Like Will, she’d escaped her misery by climbing inside the bindings of books. She spent hours reading and rereading classics like National Velvet, Gone with the Wind, and Pride and Prejudice.
As she glanced around the shop, she knew why the diner was empty. A person could spend days in a place like this and not see everything.
Abby Garrett sat at a table with a stack of books on horticulture and bees. Sage and Cannon stood at the counter, paying for their treasures. Agatha manned the old-fashioned register, the kind that sat like a golden trophy on the end of the counter, with its fancy gold filigree scrollwork and shiny black keys. The sound of the bell when the drawer opened, transported Natalie to a time long ago when women carried parasols and men wore holsters. This store could have risen from the pages of a Little House on the Prairie book with its antique register and hardwood shelves. Stepping into B’s Book Nook was like entering a story—one from an era where mothers didn’t commit suicide and fathers didn’t overdose.
Will dashed off to a collection of Harry Potter books on display while she moved toward a pink sheet of paper framed and hung by the door. Behind the glass was a letter.
Dear Recipient,
I know it’s unusual for a donor’s family to reach out to the beneficiary, but I wanted you to know a little about your gift giver.
They kept the registry private and if this letter found you, it means I hired the right person for the job. A good PI is like a good bra. It’s working behind the scene, but it’s holding up its end of the bargain. To track you down could be considered intrusive, but on some level, you became family the moment the gift was received.
I thought I’d let you know a little about Brandy. She was warm sunshine on a cold winter’s day, a flicker of light in a dark moment, and as sweet as Abby’s honey.
She was adopted, but somehow, I knew she was born to be mine. Brandy lived fully, loved deeply, and laughed heartily. While she was taken far too soon, knowing she lives in others makes the loss bearable.
My hope is that her sweetness flows through you. Smile more than you frown, laugh more than you cry, and give more than you take. Most importantly, have a long and fruitful life.
With love,
Bea
“Did you come here to finish the job?” A deep voice sounded from behind her. She pivoted around to face Jake.
“I’m fresh out of arsenic.” Her eyes went back to the framed page. “Are you this person?”
“I’m not Bea Bennett.” He glanced down at his pants. “Anatomically impossible.”
She let out a half sigh, half growl. “I meant the recipient?”
He nodded. “Yes, I have one of Brandy’s kidneys.”
“And the bookstore is your way of giving back?”
“Hardly seems equivalent. She saved my life, and I financed a bookstore. Not that big of a deal.”
She moved to the side, reaching out to touch the spines of the books that filled the nearby shelves. “Oh, I don’t know. Reading books lets you experience thousands of lifetimes. They can transport you to any time and place, or you can become any character in a story. Today I might be Peter Pan and tomorrow a muggle named Hermione.”
“Very true. Or you could be Natalie, a woman who probably wouldn’t have gotten my order wrong if she wasn’t so tired.”
She rubbed at her eyes. “Is it that obvious?”
“Probably not to most, but my job is people-centric, so I notice things that others might not.”
She looked toward the door. “Speaking of jobs, I better get back to mine. It’s lunchtime, and I can’t expect Ben to run the place alone.”
She glanced up at him and saw the fine lines that etched the corners of his eyes when he smiled. Those thoughtful and expressive eyes saw more than she wanted to expose.
She tore her gaze away and shook her head. “Sorry, I was just ...” She almost told him she was drowning in the depth of his blue eyes. “I’ve got to go.”
He chuckled. “Have a good day, Natalie.”
“You too.” She searched the aisles for Will and found him at the Harry Potter display.
“Can I get these?” he asked.
They were hardback books that no doubt included a hefty price tag. “Sorry, bud, but those are out of the budget.”
His eyes turned accusatory. “You’ve got a preloaded credit card with two hundred and fifty dollars on it.”
“That’s for necessities like clothes.” She reached into her front pocket and pulled out ten wrinkled one-dollar bills. “This is your book budget. On my day off, we can go to Copper Creek and get a library card so you can borrow the other books you want to read but can’t afford.”
He stomped his foot. “I hate being poor.”
“There are worse things.”
“Like what?” he snapped back.
“Being homeless, hungry, or dead.” Or lonely. She turned to leave and found Jake staring at her as if he’d heard her thoughts. “Be back at the diner in fifteen minutes,” she told Will.
Will walked away and disappeared down an aisle.
As she moved toward the door, she considered saying goodbye to Jake, but Agatha pulled him behind the counter to ask questions, so she left without a word.
When she got back to Maisey’s, she found poor Ben running around like a headless chicken. Book shopping created an appetite.
Riley, Maisey’s niece, was tying on a spare apron just as she rounded the counter.
“I’ve got it. I guess I lost track of time.”
“Let me help you get caught up, and then I’ll go.” Riley still pulled shifts at the diner even though she made thousands on her metal art sculptures. Not that she needed the money, but it was a way to show her loyalty to her Aunt Maisey.
“I appreciate it.” They moved around each other getting the drinks delivered and the orders placed to the growing crowd. If this was any other town than Aspen Cove, Natalie would have bet a busload of starving tourists had been let loose in front of the diner.
Between orders, Riley talked about her newest project—a flock of life-sized peacocks for some Denver eccentric’s front yard. Average people stuck pink flamingos on wire legs into their lawns, but this guy wanted peacocks made of bronze, and Riley was happy to make them for thousands of dollars each.
Oh, to have a different skill set than waiting tables. A girl could dream, and then she had to get real. Schlepping plates paid the bills.
During a lull, they stood behind the counter and took a breath while Riley waited for Ben to make her lunch.
“Anything new at the Guild Creative Center?” Natalie had been there once when Poppy Dawson got married to Deputy Sheriff Mark Bancroft. Poppy’s photography was on display as a tribute to the people of Aspen Cove. That was the last time she’d visited the building.
“It’s been quiet. Dalton’s always there cooking something. Samantha comes and goes depending on if she’s touring or not. She’s back in town prepping for the summer concert and recording a new album. I imagine her band will show up soon.”
“What about that painter?” The woman who came out of the womb with a paintbrush and palette in her hand had always intrigued her.
“Sosie Grant?” Riley lifted her hands into the air. “She used to come here on weekends, but she hasn’t been around for months.” She shrugged. “Maybe her muse is sleeping, and she’s taking a break. I once took a year off because I wasn’t feeling creative.” She poured herself a soda. “Or maybe it was because I burned down my workspace. Either way, sometimes, life happens.”
“Order up,” Ben called from the window.
“That’s mine.” Riley glanced around the diner. “You got it from here?” She snatched the plate filled wi
th a burger and fries from the shelf.
“Yep, thanks for your help.”
The crowd arrived together and left together, which meant she was stuck clearing off at least a dozen tables.
When the bell above the door rang, she looked up to see Jake and Will. How had she forgotten about her brother?
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“Babysitting is not really my thing.”
She fisted her hips and glared at Will. “I said fifteen minutes.” She turned back to Jake. “I really told him to be back in fifteen minutes.”
“I lost track of time.” Will ambled toward the booth in the corner. The frayed ends of his jeans swept the floor as he walked.
That kid needs some clothes. Clothes that fit.
“He’s back now. Do you think you can put in an order that won’t send me into kidney failure?”
His smile was disarming, but she wasn’t sure if it was authentic or there to hide his jibe.
“What’s your poison?” She pulled her order pad from her pocket and, in big letters at the top of the ticket, she wrote JAKE and turned it to show him.
“Grilled chicken breast and veggies.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Ben can make stuff that’s not dipped in batter and fried to a crisp?”
“So it would seem.”
After a quick look at Will, she turned back to Jake. There was something about him that pulled and pushed at her. It wasn’t his strong jaw, or his sea-glass blue eyes that seemed to look through her; not his height or his broad shoulders. All she knew was that she wanted to like him and dislike him at the same time.
“If you need to get back to the store, I can send Will to deliver the order.”
He smiled wide enough to show his pearly whites. Perfect teeth that any dentist would be proud to slap on an advertisement.
“That would be great. I need to get up a help wanted sign and start next week’s order. Who knew this town had so many readers?”
“Who said we could read?” She turned and walked away.
From the door, he called, “Not what I meant.”
“But it’s what you implied.” She didn’t know why his statement riled her.
Twenty minutes later, Will delivered the meal. When he returned, he tucked himself into the booth again. Only this time, he sat reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
“How could you afford that?” she asked.
“Grand Opening. Everything was half-price.”
Chapter Four
Jake sipped his coffee and walked around the bookstore. He had to admit giving this community the gift of words made his heart swell with pride. Doc was right. He used a line from the movie Field of Dreams, “If you build it, they will come.” And they did. Tiny spaces of emptiness dotted the shelves where tightly packed books had been yesterday.
He turned at the sound of the door opening behind him to find Agatha. She shuffled inside and tucked her bag under the counter.
“Good morning, Agatha. Looks like we got off to a good start yesterday.”
“I’d say it was a home run.”
He found it funny how both she and Doc used baseball references when referring to the Book Nook.
“If I can find someone to take over running the place, I’d call it a complete success.”
Agatha plopped on the stool behind the register. “You’ve done a fine job.” She pointed to the framed stationery. “I didn’t know Bea, but from what I hear, she would have been proud. Too bad you can’t stay and run it. You’ve been here a bit and fit right in.”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say I fit in. I feel like a square block shoved into a circular hole, but my edges are wearing down, and the fit gets easier each day.” This whole adventure had been an experience for him, from staying at Tilden Cool’s efficiency cabin to eating most of his meals in the diner. In his experience, most small communities were guarded with strangers, but not the people of Aspen Cove. They were the poster children for hospitality.
“Maybe you should stay.” She lifted her brows to nearly touch her curled white hair. “Who knows, maybe the other kidney will come home too.” She looked around as if making sure no one but him could hear. “I mean, her heart is here already. If Bea contacted all the organ recipients, I’m told there’s another kidney, a liver, a pair of lungs, and some corneas walking around.”
It painted a funny picture in his mind of organs bouncing into town on their own.
“I couldn’t say, but if there are more pink letters, I’d brace myself for visits. Nothing deserves a thank you like the gift of life.”
She thunked her travel mug on the counter. “Do you want to go over the sales for yesterday, so we know what to order?” she asked.
He imagined stocking a bookstore wasn’t the same as the pharmacy where she worked with Doc. There was more to it than filling a space. Some books would always sell. Popular tomes like Game of Thrones would be staples, as would romance novels, cozy mysteries, and the New York Times top one hundred, but books were very much like produce. Their shelf life was limited, and a fresh supply of new titles needed stocking with regularity.
“I see you sold a Harry Potter book. We’ll need to replace that.” JK Rowling had burst onto the scene with book one over two decades ago, and it was still going strong. That was the staying power he wanted with his business. His goal was to be a household name like Tony Robbins.
“I didn’t sell it,” she said. “You must have sold it after I left.”
He rubbed his chin, brushing against the scruff he’d adopted since his arrival. “Nope, Frank Arden came in for the latest Grisham book, and a schoolteacher bought every Shel Silverstein book we had.”
“That must have been Mercy Meyer from Rose Lane. Did Peter Larkin from over there on Pansy come in?”
“He did. How did you know?”
She shook her head. “He said he would visit and ask you to stock Playboy since we don’t sell it at the pharmacy.”
Calling it a pharmacy was a stretch since he couldn’t get a prescription refill. All Doc stocked was over the counter and pharmaceutical samples.
“I gave him the bad news, no Playboy here, but he purchased our only copy of the Kama Sutra.” He looked around the display for the missing Harry Potter novel. It was there before Natalie’s son came in to bring his dinner.
“I’ll let Doc know to stock up on ace bandages and ibuprofen for when Peter strains a muscle,” Agatha said.
The old man was a marvel. If rumors were true, he saw more action than the newlyweds in town. After a thorough look for the missing book, he came up empty-handed. He hated to accuse someone of theft, but Will had been looking at them earlier that afternoon. In fact, he’d dog-eared a page in the missing book, which was why he’d brought him back to the diner. It was fine to read the books, but dogearing a novel was considered literary abuse by many.
“Hey, Agatha, I need to go to the diner. Can you hold down the fort for a bit?”
“You going to see that pretty little waitress, Natalie?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “She’d be perfect for you.”
“I am.” He walked out the door with two questions on his mind. First, was Natalie’s son a thief? Second, why did most women north of fifty consider themselves matchmakers? He needed a woman less than he needed a kidney stone. But like a kidney stone, pretty women were hard to ignore.
The morning sun warmed his back as he walked to the diner. Back home in Phoenix, it would already be sweltering. By noon on a summer day, the temperatures would hit triple digits. That was another plus to the merger with Vision Quest. He’d have to move to California, where the weather was consistently perfect.
The bell above the door rang as he entered. The regular cast of characters was present. Doc sat at his booth in the right back corner, reading the paper. The fire department crew filled a booth at the window. Sheriff Cooper and his family sat at a table near the center of the room. At the counter was Peter Larkin. A few stools down was B
axter Black, the construction wizard who had done the remodel on the bookstore.
Natalie walked from behind the counter with a pot of coffee swinging between her fingers. “Morning, Jake.”
It was nice she remembered his name, but then again, she got a lesson in writing it at the top of the order pad.
“Natalie.” He nodded and moved to a booth against the left wall.
After she made her rounds, she stopped in front of him. “What can I kill you with today?” she teased. Her smile was like seeing a rainbow for the first time. He had a feeling not much made Natalie smile authentically, and he was happy she’d gifted him with one.
He’d seen her fake smile in action several times, but this was different. He hated that his purpose in coming might flip that smile into a frown.
“How about some tea and a bowl of oatmeal?”
She scrunched her nose. “Do you miss good food?”
He laughed. “I’d miss living more.”
She tapped her pen on the table. “Good point. I’ll be right back.”
She returned moments later with a cup of hot water and a saucer that held an assortment of teas.
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Sure.” She slid into the booth across from him. “What’s on your mind?”
He wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. He thought it best to ease into it. “You know the Book Nook probably won’t ever be profitable, right?”
She stared at him with a blank expression. “I imagine it will be difficult given the population, but there are many tourists that visit for the fishing and hiking. Books on trails and popular local sites like the waterfalls might help revenue.” She cocked her head to the side. “You didn’t say that to get advice, right? Is there a reason you’re telling me this?”
“Yes, the book prices are discounted, so the revenue collected is enough to cover the essentials like stock, utilities, insurance, and salaries, but theft isn’t something I expected. At least not so soon.”
Her shoulders stiffened as if she already knew what he would say and had to brace herself for the hit.
“What are you getting at?”
One Hundred Decisions (An Aspen Cove Small Town Romance Book 13) Page 3