Who in the hell was her secret admirer, and how much did he have to worry about him?
* * *
AINSLEY SAT AT her kitchen table and stared at the vase of red roses that had been delivered to her in the café that morning.
When she’d realized the gorgeous roses beautifully arranged in a white vase were for her, she’d been thrilled. She’d also been certain they had been from Hunter even though there hadn’t been a card.
Lana had teased her unmercifully, and the other waitresses, both married and single, had looked at her with a bit of envy. She’d quickly carried them back to her kitchen table and then had hurried back to the floor to continue working.
She’d spent the rest of the morning anticipating seeing Hunter and then when she had and he’d told her he hadn’t sent the roses, a sick feeling had swept through her.
She definitely didn’t like surprises. She’d had enough of them during her marriage to Peter. She’d never known whether he was going to stroke her hair or pull it, smile at her or smack her. The secrets that only he could hear and see in his own head kept him unpredictable and dangerous.
She shook her head to dispel any further thoughts of Peter. She couldn’t allow herself to be pulled back into memories of his brutality and utter madness.
If not Hunter, then who had sent her the roses? The longer she stared at them, the higher her anxiety climbed. They were such a deep red...like the color of blood.
Now why would she think that? The flowers might represent a special thank-you to her or a budding romantic interest from somebody. She just wished the sender had sent an identifying card as well.
She glanced at the clock. It was just after eight. There was only one flower shop in town, and they might still be open. Maybe she could get some answers from somebody there.
She found the number and then called. “April’s Flowers,” a pleasant female voice answered. “This is Megan speaking, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Megan. My name is Ainsley Meadows, and I work at the Dusty Gulch Café. This morning a dozen red roses were delivered to me there, and I was wondering if you could tell me who sent them.”
“I’d love to help you out, but there was no order for a dozen roses that came out of my shop today,” Megan said.
Ainsley paused in surprise. “Are you sure?”
The woman on the other end of the line laughed. “Honey, I’ve been here all day, and a sale for roses is a good day for me. Trust me, no roses went out today or any time in the last few weeks.”
“Thank you anyway,” Ainsley said. She hung up and then stared at the roses again. She hadn’t paid much attention to the young man who had delivered them. He’d worn a hat, so she didn’t even know if he’d been blond or brunette.
She jerked up from the table and carried the roses to the trash can. If they weren’t from Hunter, then she didn’t want them. The flowers finished filling the trash bag, and she tied it at the top and then carried it to her door.
The dumpster for the café was just at the back of the property. She regularly carried her trash bags out to it, but for some reason she was particularly on edge tonight.
You can always take the trash out tomorrow when there’s more daylight, a little voice whispered in her head. You’ve taken the trash out at this time of night a hundred times before, another voice chided.
Irritated with herself, she unlocked the door, grabbed the trash bag and stepped outside. The cool night air wrapped itself around her as she scurried across the parking lot toward the dumpster.
The night seemed deeper...darker than usual as the moon was covered by clouds. The streetlamp on the corner provided only the faintest illumination into this area.
She reached the dumpster and threw in her bag. A rustling behind the dumpster froze her in her tracks. Was somebody there? Was somebody hiding behind the trash receptacle? Watching her? Waiting for her?
Her heart began to pound as she took a step backward, keeping her gaze shooting from the dumpster to the area just around it. Somebody had sent her roses...was it possible that somebody was stalking her?
She jumped and released a sudden laugh in relief as a mouse scurried out from behind the dumpster and raced across the parking lot. Jeez, what was wrong with her?
She went back inside the apartment and sank down on the sofa. She was being ridiculous. Just because she’d gotten roses from an unknown person didn’t mean that something was wrong...that something was somehow threatening.
Hunter was right—somebody would probably come forward by the end of the next day to claim the roses and say why they had sent them to her.
Her negative reaction was from her past. Peter had always gotten her roses...sometimes as an apology for beating her, and sometimes in anticipation of beating her. But Peter wasn’t around. And hopefully he had no idea where she was. Most men would assume any woman loved that particular flower.
She had just gotten into bed when her phone rang. She saw the caller identification and immediately answered, unable to halt the smile that curved her lips.
“I’ve decided I love the sound of your voice right before I go to sleep,” Hunter said.
“Same,” she replied simply.
“I’ve been kicking myself all day long,” he said.
“Why is that?”
“After last night I should have been the one to send you roses.”
“Hunter, making love to you was all the gift I needed. I don’t need you to send me roses or gifts. You’re all I want.”
“God, I’m crazy about you,” he replied.
She laughed. “You’re just happy because I’m a cheap date.”
“Well, there is that,” he returned with a laugh of his own. “I just wanted to tell you to have sweet dreams.”
“Thank you, Hunter. Sweet dreams to you, too.”
Her smile continued to ride her lips long after the phone call ended. Making love with Hunter had been like fulfilling a fantasy. He’d been so gentle, so wonderfully tender and everything she had hoped he would be.
She awakened the next morning feeling well rested and more centered. She was especially pleased that over breakfast Melinda didn’t mention hearing her father talk to her the night before. Maybe the appointment with Dr. Atkins was already making a difference.
Since it was Saturday, Melinda settled in at a small two-top table next to the kitchen with Ainsley’s phone for playing games, a pack of crayons and several coloring books, and colored pencils with drawing paper. Melinda was always good about keeping herself occupied on Saturdays when Ainsley worked and Melinda was out of school.
As Ainsley started her workday, she couldn’t help but speculate about the sender of the roses. When she told Lana that Hunter hadn’t sent them to her and the local florist hadn’t delivered them, Lana played sleuth with her.
“Maybe Jim Nelson sent them to you,” Lana said when the Ainsley met her at the coffee machine. “You know that man thinks the world of you.”
Ainsley thought of the elderly man who she served breakfast to each morning. “He’s a sweet man, but I don’t see him sending me roses for getting his order right each day. Besides, he also doesn’t strike me as a man who has that kind of money to throw away. I’m sure a dozen roses aren’t cheap.”
“That’s true. Hell, most of the men in this town wouldn’t spend the money to send a woman a dozen daisies. Bunch of cheapskates, if you ask me,” Lana grumbled and then brightened. “What about Jimmy Miller? You know that boy makes a good salary working for Eva and Jake Albright, and he definitely acts like he might have a crush on you.”
“Lana, order up,” Big Ed hollered, effectively halting their conversation.
Was it possible Jimmy had sent the flowers to her? He was definitely a flirt when he came in. He also always sat in her section. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that Jimmy had bough
t her the roses. He’d told her that Hunter was a hard man to challenge...was he attempting to do just that by sending her the flowers? When he came in for lunch today, he’d probably confess that he’d sent them.
She smiled when George Calvert walked in with another man she didn’t recognize. The two remained standing and talking to each other just inside the door. She assumed the two were together, but then George took a seat in her section and the other man sat in Lana’s.
“Hi, George,” she said. “For a minute I thought you would be sitting at a table for two with a friend.”
“Nah, I just met that gentleman outside the door. He’s new in town and his name is Hank Bridges,” George replied. “He’s single and bought the old pig farm just outside the city limits.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you again,” she said. “You look good.”
“I’m feeling pretty good. I decided I needed one of Big Ed’s breakfast specials this morning.”
“Would you like the one with the pancakes or the biscuits and gravy?”
“I have a hankering for pancakes, so I’ll take the special that includes them.”
“And to drink?”
“A cup of coffee will be just fine.”
“I’ll put your order in and get your coffee right away.”
Ainsley placed George’s order and then once again met Lana at the coffee machine. “Don’t look now, but the new man in town has been checking you out,” Lana said. “I swear, Ainsley, you could have your pick of a dozen single men in town.”
Ainsley laughed. “I’ve got the single man I want.”
“And a good one he is,” Lana replied.
Suddenly Ainsley was reminded of what Juanita had said about Hunter’s past, something Hunter hadn’t shared with her yet. Everything had been going so well with Hunter, she’d forgotten what Juanita had said.
What could it be that Hunter hadn’t told her yet? They’d shared so many conversations, shared so many things about each other. What might he be hiding? And was it something that might play a negative role in their relationship?
Ha, she was worried about him having secrets when she probably had more secrets than anyone else in town. Definitely double standards. She expected him to come clean about everything while she was lying to him about almost everything.
As she served George his coffee, she glanced over to the new man in town. The single ladies should be happy with a new, attractive man in town.
His dark brown hair was nicely cut, and he had high cheekbones and a perfectly straight nose. When he smiled at Lana, his teeth were straight and white...altogether he was quite a hunk.
But, despite his good looks, he stirred absolutely nothing in her. Her heart was already completely taken by a very hot deputy sheriff named Hunter.
The breakfast rush passed, and then it seemed like just a minute went by and the lunch rush was on. Ainsley scooted from table to table along with Lana and two other waitresses who worked on the weekends.
“How’s the best-looking waitress in the county doing today?” Jimmy Miller greeted her with his usual smile when she arrived to take his order.
“I’m doing just fine. What about you?” If he’d been the one who had sent her the roses, surely he’d say something about them now.
“I’m doing pretty good, although it sounds like we’re supposed to get some nasty wet days next week.”
“I hate to see the weather turning cold,” she replied.
“Me too. Winters in Dusty Gulch can sometimes be pretty brutal,” he replied.
“What can I get for you, Jimmy?”
He ordered, and if he was the one who had sent her the roses, apparently he wasn’t ready to confess to her yet. If not Jimmy, then who? The question continued to haunt her.
With a pause in the patrons, Ainsley went over to Melinda’s table. “Hey love bug, are you ready to order some lunch?”
“Yes, but first look at the picture I drew for you.” Melinda scooted over a picture of a pink house with lots of purple flowers amid a bright green lawn.
“That’s awesome, honey.”
“Do you think we could find a pink house for our forever house?” Melinda asked.
“It might be easier to plant pretty pink flowers in front of our forever house. Would that be okay, too?” Melinda nodded. “Now, tell me what you’d like for lunch.”
“Grilled cheese with chips,” Melinda said.
“How about grilled cheese with an apple?”
“Okay,” Melinda replied. “But I’d rather have chips.”
“Maybe tomorrow you can have chips,” Ainsley said. “While you wait for your lunch, I want you to think if maybe you could give Hunter another chance if we all go out for pizza. We can talk more about it later this evening.”
Once Melinda was finished with her lunch, she returned to the apartment to watch television. She knew the rules as far as keeping the door locked and not answering it if anyone knocked.
While they’d been in town with Ainsley working the hours she did, she and Melinda had fallen into a good routine for Saturdays.
Melinda spent the mornings in the café and then got to watch television in the afternoons until Ainsley got off work before the Saturday evening rush. Throughout the afternoon it was easy for Ainsley to step into the back to check on her daughter.
Hunter came in for his lunch break, and as usual, he flirted with her as she took his order and then served his meal. “I’m hoping maybe Thursday we could try to do pizza with Melinda,” she said.
He looked at her in pleased surprise. “That would be nice. I’m willing to do and try whatever to make her like me. Maybe I should get her a pink teddy bear.”
“No more gifts for her,” she said sternly. “I don’t want you trying to buy her affection.”
She didn’t hang around for more conversation with him. The café continued to stay too busy for chitchat. “Fifteen more minutes and then the two of us can get out of here,” Lana said as the two stood side by side and watched the diners. “You have any plans for the rest of the weekend?”
“Tomorrow I’ll probably take Melinda for a drive around town just to get out of the apartment for a little while. We’ll shop a bit and then wind up at the ice cream parlor for a treat,” Ainsley said. “What about you?”
“I figure it’s time for me to do a changeover in my closet. You know, pack away the summer clothes and pull out the winter,” Lana replied. “In other words, I’m going to have a damned boring day.”
“Sometimes boring is good, especially after the busy day we’ve had here today.”
“Hey, Ainsley.” Rhonda Carlton, one of the waitresses who had come in to work the dinner rush, hurried toward her.
“Hi, Rhonda. What’s up?” Ainsley’s smile faded as Rhonda didn’t offer her one in return.
“Uh...I was cleaning off the table back by the restrooms and I found this.” Rhonda’s blue eyes were troubled as she held out a folded piece of paper.
For a moment Ainsley didn’t want to take it from her. The look in Rhonda’s eyes scared her. Finally she took the note and opened it. A frightened gasp escaped her as she read the bold block letters.
AINSLEY MEADOWS. YOU ARE A WHORE AND WE DON’T LIKE WHORES IN THIS TOWN.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hunter held the offending note in his gloved hand. Around him the sounds of people laughing and glasses clinking sounded like a normal Saturday night in the café.
But this note wasn’t normal, and he hated to see the fear that kept Ainsley’s eyes darkened. “How about we go into your apartment where things will be quieter,” he suggested.
“Okay,” Ainsley agreed.
He looked at Rhonda. “If you could come back with us, I’ll just keep you off the floor for a minute or two.”
Rhonda shot a look at Big Ed and then looked back at Hunter. �
��Can’t I just talk to you right here? My section is full of people.”
“Okay, just tell me exactly where you found the note,” Hunter said.
She pointed to a two-top table in the back. “It was just sitting there. I thought it was just somebody’s trash, but then I opened it.” She frowned. “I don’t even know who has sat at that table today. I had just come in for work when I found it.”
“Thank you,” Hunter said. “I may need to talk to you later, okay?”
Rhonda nodded. “Can I get back to work now?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” Hunter turned back to Ainsley. “Let’s get out of here.”
She led the way through the door that entered into her apartment. “Melinda, could you please go play in your bedroom for a little while? I need to talk to Deputy Churchill.”
Once Melinda was gone, Hunter gestured Ainsley toward her small dining table. He placed the note into an evidence bag he’d carried into the café when he’d arrived and then set the bag down.
“What’s happening, Hunter? Why would somebody leave that note for me?”
“Did you have any problems with anyone today while you were working?” he asked. He hated the tension that wafted from her and the simmer of fear in her eyes.
“No...nobody. It was a good day. First the roses and now this... What is going on? Why is somebody doing this to me?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to figure it out.” He pulled off his gloves and then reached across the table to cover her hands. They were icy cold. He rubbed them in an attempt to warm them, even though he knew their coldness had nothing to do with an outside chill.
“I just can’t imagine who would think such a terrible thing about me. What have I done that would give anyone the impression that I’m a whore?”
“Nothing...absolutely nothing,” Hunter replied. “Ainsley, I don’t want you to overreact to this. It’s not a threatening note, it’s just a nasty one, and I’m going to do my very best to try to figure out who left it.”
Harlequin Intrigue March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 43