Live and Let Love

by Gina Robinson

  “What do you mean?”

  Way too innocent and nervous there, Shiloh girl.

  “That wasn’t your usual salacious How was your evening with a hot man? tone.” Willow began filling another display tray with caramels. She glanced up at the clock. Two minutes until the crowd rushed the door. She was running behind, too, feeling like a contestant on an episode of those crazy timed cooking shows as she arranged the tray.

  “I can put more innuendo in if you’d like.” Shiloh washed her hands, wiped them on a paper towel, lowered her voice, and wiggled her eyebrows. “How was your evening, boss?”

  Willow shook her head. “You’re right. I liked it better without the innuendo.” She paused. “Why do I get the sense something’s up that I don’t know about?”

  Willow hated the thought of peaceful Orchard Bluff going covert on her. She’d had enough of that life with Jack. “What’s up with you?”

  Shiloh sighed and finally looked Willow in the eye. “Nothing.”

  Willow gave her the piercing tell me the truth or spend the afternoon scouring candy kettles stare.

  Shiloh caved, sort of. “It’s just … well, what do you know about Con?”

  “Con?” Oh no, please don’t let small-town politics and suspicion rear their ugly heads now, at the worst possible time. If the citizens of Orchard Bluff turned on Con, they’d run him out within days. She needed Con around long enough to prove he was really Jack. And she needed Jack around forever. And if Con was simply Con, she was getting the feeling she needed him, too.

  Another terrible thought occurred to Willow—was she the cause of this sudden suspicion? Had someone found out she’d been Googling Con and checking up on him? Seen her buying that DNA sample taking kit? Had she inadvertently aroused suspicions?

  She’d been so incredibly careful. She’d practically worn a trench coat with the collar turned up and dark glasses as a disguise. And she’d gone deep into the city to Drew’s contact specifically to avoid the prying eyes of the people of Orchard Bluff.

  In the year and a half since she’d been here, she’d quickly realized she was a lot more anonymous in the city. Small towns, even peaceful, loving little small towns, loved nothing more than gossip and speculation. Willow remembered the gist of a quote from Pride and Prejudice: “What do we live for but to entertain our neighbors?” That was too true here.

  What sort of horrible rumor had someone started? Did they think Willow was trying to prove Con really was Aldo’s cousin and not an imposter? Or the daddy of her hidden child? She didn’t have a hidden child, but in a town like this nothing was beyond the imagination.

  She had to calm the savage mob.

  And right now Willow simply needed to play it cool with Shiloh, who could be the town’s inside informant. “I know all I need to about him.”

  Except whether he’s actually Jack, for sure and certain.

  “I’m just saying, it might be wise to find out a little more about him before you become too attached to him.” Shiloh looked timid for the first time Willow could remember since hiring her.

  “Too attached?” Willow laughed. “I’m not going to run off and marry him.” She shook her head as if Shiloh had just said something very silly. If Willow was right, and she believed she was, she was already married to him. So clear conscience, no lie there. “Why the sudden concern?”

  “We like you, Willow,” Shiloh said, hedging again.

  Willow got the distinct impression there was something she wasn’t saying. “And?”

  “Con’s from Chicago.” Shiloh cleared her throat and looked down at her colorful Converse tennis shoes. “We don’t want him to sweep you away with him.”

  Willow shook her head, bemused and confused. “One dinner and the town’s worried I’m going to run off with him?”

  Well, they had part of it right. If Con was Jack she’d follow him anywhere, run with him to the moon.

  She felt that deep sense of longing again so strongly she had to resist the urge to clamp her legs together. The desire to track Con down and make love with him nearly overwhelmed her good judgment and common sense.

  She and Jack used to make love every day when he was home. When he went away on a mission it was torture without him. The moment he walked back in her door they ripped each other’s clothes off. She felt an emotional and spiritual connection with Jack when they made love that she could only liken to the high of listening to a favorite piece of music and letting your spirit soar with it.

  “Well, you know what they say,” Shiloh said. “Lonely widows and all. They can fall too easily for any handsome man who comes along.”

  Willow rolled her eyes. “On the very off chance I did suddenly decide Con was the one, I wouldn’t run. I’d stay right here among my friends.”

  The clock on the wall chimed ten. Willow took a deep breath and sighed, eager to be distracted from this conversation. “Time to let the marauding horde in.” She grabbed her key, took a second deep, calming breath, prayed for peace, and unlocked the door.

  The group of women pushed in.

  Lettie was first in the door. She’d held the Town Grump position more times than anyone else and felt it gave her extra rights to speak her mind.

  She cornered Willow by the windows before she could escape to safety behind the counter.

  “Oh, honey,” Lettie said without preamble. “We heard about your dinner with Aldo’s purported cousin last night. What were you thinking having a strange man over to your house all alone?”

  He wasn’t a strange man. He was almost certainly her husband.

  “I wasn’t all alone. I had Spookie. And Con’s not a stranger. Aldo knows him. What do you mean by purported?” This was bad, worse than Willow originally feared. She couldn’t help sounding defensive.

  Lettie clicked her tongue. “Just what I said, hon. Is he really Aldo’s cousin? How would we know for sure? Aldo has thousands of cousins. You know how those big Italian Roman Catholic families are—no birth control, mixed with the temperament of Latin lovers. They multiply like rabbits. It’s impossible to keep track of everyone. I bet even their mothers don’t know who’s who and where’s where.

  “I heard Con’s not related to Aldo at all. He’s just a drifter taking advantage of Aldo’s hospitality and you. He’s out for your money.” Her eyes snapped as she nodded to make her point. “Has anyone checked up to make sure he is who he says he is?”

  “I heard Con’s already taken advantage of three other women,” Dottie said from Lettie’s elbow. “Love ’em and leave ’em Con is what they call him. Showers women with attention, gets them to buy him expensive presents, borrows their money, and absconds with it.”

  “I bet he’s a bigamist,” Brenda Hayes, a small, round woman who owned an apple orchard just outside of town, said. “That’s what I heard, anyway. Probably has half a dozen children, too.”

  “What about Shane?” Lettie nodded her head and shot Willow her accusing stare. Shane was obviously Lettie’s favorite, even though he was a newcomer and a short-timer in Orchard Bluff, too. “Ever thought about his feelings?”

  “I—” Willow couldn’t keep up with the ambush.

  “Con’s wanted in three states,” Sheryl Cramer, Willow’s rural route mail carrier, interjected, cutting off Willow’s response as she handed Willow her mail. “And I vote for Shane, too. He’s a good man. Always closes his mailbox nice and tight so the spiders and rain don’t get in. Very polite, that man.”

  She gave Willow a gentle, nudging elbow. “And handsome, too, in an all-American way. Has character to his features. Who likes such dark, perfect looks as Con’s, anyway? He’s much too slick for our tastes.”

  But not Willow’s. She loved Con’s perfect good looks that reminded her of Jack’s imperfect ones.

  Willow had to put a stop to this blatant rumor growth before either they made Con into an ax murderer or she exploded. She already felt herself growing hot, and it wasn’t just due to the crowd of warm bodies and hot tempers arou
nd her.

  She mouthed across the room at Shiloh to call Aldo and get him over here as soon as possible. Aldo, with his exotic Italian accent and expressive gestures, could surely calm the women down. Most of them would quiet just to hear him talk.

  “Calm down,” Willow stepped in to rush to Con’s defense. “That’s all rumor and hearsay. You’ve all met him. You liked him. He’s a charming man, really sweet. He even brought a treat for Spookie when he came over last night.”

  “Of course we like him! That’s part of his nefarious plan to throw us off the scent. It’s always the charmers you have to watch out for,” Lettie, who appeared to be the ringleader, said. She was taking her role as Town Grump way too seriously. Keep acting as she was and they’d have to rename her Town PI or maybe simply Town Snoop and Busybody.

  “He acted like a perfect gentleman.” In fact, he’d acted way too gentlemanly for Willow’s tastes. She wanted to taste him. If he was Jack, he was showing a good deal of restraint. She felt the sexual attraction thrumming between them and knew he did, too. She’d read somewhere that men’s testosterone levels dropped when they had sex less than once a week. They eventually got used to the drop. She hoped that explained Jack’s sudden ability to resist certain temptation.

  Willow had to calm the women down and reassure them. Where in the world had they gotten these ridiculous rumors in the first place?

  “Perfect gentleman, now is that any way he should be acting around a beauty like you?” Linda Herman asked. “He should be making a move like a real man. The guys who hang out at Beck’s would be all over you in a minute, probably less, if you gave them half a chance.

  “That just proves our point. I knew the man was a fake. He’s trying to throw her off guard so he can move in with his charming ways and elegant clothes, and steal her money now, too!”

  “Steal my money!” Willow couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “Like we said, that’s the way all con men operate, honey,” Lettie said. “Move in on susceptible widows, marry them, and abscond with their insurance settlements. If they’re pretty like you, it only sweetens the pot, if you know what I mean.”

  Willow bit back what she really thought. There was no way the Agency would let her be taken in by a con man.

  “Yeah, he didn’t even have the decency to pick a good cover name,” Willa Bentley, who owned the best Golden Delicious orchard on the bluff with her husband, chimed in. “Con! He could have been more original.”

  “Probably trying to throw us off track,” Lettie said. “You know, hide in plain sight.”

  A sea of heads nodded.

  Willow waved her arms in a cease and desist with this craziness motion. “No, no, no.”

  “Yes.” Lettie nodded.

  “Where did you get these crazy ideas? Has anyone asked Aldo?” Willow looked around the crowd as the finger-pointing began. “Or confronted Con directly?”

  “Con would only deny it, wouldn’t he? Smile at us, charm us until we melted under that hot accent of his and warm, chocolate eyes, and then send us on our way still in the dark and under his spell.

  “And you know Aldo. You don’t insult his family without proof. He’d never sell us another lasagna again,” Lettie said.

  The part about Con charming them was probably true.

  “You’re not giving Aldo enough credit,” Willow said. “If he believed for a second Con was an imposter, he’d protect me and Orchard Bluff and send Con away. I know he would. Where did you hear these things?” Willow glanced over at Shiloh, who’d just snapped her cell phone shut.

  Shiloh nodded to Willow and mouthed, Aldo’s on his way.

  “I heard it from her.” Lettie pointed to Willa.

  Willa pointed to Dottie. She pointed to someone else. This was like a game of round-robin, nearly impossible to discover a ringleader or the source of the misinformation.

  Willow shook her head. “I’m grateful to you all and appreciate how you want to protect me. Really, I am.

  “But you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not as gullible as you think.” She snapped her fingers as she remembered how she’d snooped on Con herself. “I’ve already screened Con. I did a thorough Internet search on him before I invited him over. He’s exactly who he says he is.” Not. He was her husband, Jack. He had to be.

  “I can show you. I’ll just grab my phone. If you’ll just let Shiloh take your orders while I go get it—”

  “Hold on here.” Aldo burst through the doors, waving and making Italian hand gestures that Willow didn’t care to know the meaning of. “My cousin is who he says he is. I have my ninety-five-year-old nonna on the phone and she confirms.

  “Nonna, let me put you on speakerphone. You tell these ladies and set them straight about Con.” He punched a button on his phone and held the phone up so the crowd could hear.

  Nonna’s raspy voice filled the air. She let loose a string of rapid-fire Italian that scared the ladies in the room into pin-dropping silence.

  Aldo grinned and nodded along. Willow was close enough to him to hear him whisper, “Give ‘em hell, Nonna,” beneath his breath.

  “You see?” Aldo said when his grandmother finished.

  “Yes, but what was she saying?” Lettie asked. “None of us speak Italian. We need a translator.”

  “Again in English, Nonna,” Aldo said into the receiver.

  His grandmother began speaking again. “Con Russo is my Aldo’s second cousin once removed. He has the Salemo good looks, but that’s only from his mother’s side. He’s my cousin Sal’s…”

  Willow wondered how the Agency had convinced Aldo’s nonna that Jack was her relative.

  * * *

  Jack wandered into Bluff Country Store around ten, hoping to get away with ordering a coffee drink he really liked. The store was suspiciously quiet. None of the usual crowd lingered about. Which was good for his coffee ordering but roused his suspicious nature.

  On top of that, the few locals who lounged at the tables, reading their newspapers and sipping coffee, gave him the evil eye. Yeah, he’d been a spy long enough to recognize the evil eye when he saw it. And he was definitely seeing it now.

  Fortunately, he doubted any of them had assassin skills to match their looks. Who among knew how to make a crossbow out of their newspapers, for example? It was an acquired skill.

  Making sure to steer clear of the second-story ledge above and, therefore, any accidentally toppling objects, Jack went to the counter where Willow’s friend Ada refilled Stan Herman’s coffee cup. So there still were a few people who drank a plain old Americano cup of coffee. Unfortunately, with Ada behind the counter, Jack would have to stick to his approved drink list.

  Stan walked away. Ada turned her attention to Jack and glared at him. Yes, glared. What the hell? What had he done to upset her? Against his strong sexual impulses and drive, he’d behaved perfectly around Willow. No animal advances. No taking her on the living room rug like he wanted to. Nothing but gentlemanliness as far as the evening stretched. Hell, he’d even helped her with the dishes. The fact that he’d had an ulterior motive shouldn’t count against him.

  “What can I get you?” Ada’s stare held all the warmth of the frost on a pumpkin, and her eyes snapped with anger.

  “I’ll take a grande pumpkin spice latte.” Still, not his favorite drink, but better than a cappuccino. And it was on the approved cover list.

  “To go, I take it.”

  Now there was a subtle hint. So he wouldn’t be lounging in the cold atmosphere of the store and picking up any helpful local gossip.

  She rang it up and took his money. He watched her as she made his drink just to make sure she didn’t spit in it. When she’d finished it, she plunked it on the counter so hard that coffee splashed up through the drink hole of the to-go cup lid.

  Sometimes the best way to get intel was the direct approach.

  He looked Ada straight in the eye, giving her no wiggle room, and put on his most sincerely apologetic tone. “H
ave I done something to offend you?”

  Ada held a dishrag. She looked as if she wanted to swat him with it. Instead, she thwacked the counter. “Willow is my good friend and I will protect her to the end. Especially from gold-digging men who are after her widow’s inheritance. Mess with her and you will mess with me, buster.

  “The eyes of the entire town are on you, Con Russo, or whoever you really are. You are not going to break our Willow’s heart and run off with her money. Nor will we allow you to trespass on Aldo’s hospitality a moment longer, you, you fraud!”

  If Jack hadn’t been trained to be cool under pressure and had lots of experience facing down much badder guys than Ada, his heart might have stopped.

  But the SMASH note pinned to his door and all the ladies of the town trooping through Kennett’s house came suddenly to mind.

  Touché, Kennett. Good move.

  With a few well-placed lies, some hints, and a bit of innuendo, Kennett had just enlisted the entire town to be his eyes and ears and keep watch on Jack.

  The Rooster, that bastard, was definitely scared, but Jack tipped a figurative hat to him. Kennett just proved he was good with a tactical move. And he knew small towns.

  I’m going to get you, you bastard. Soon. Try all you like to trip me up; that only strengthens my resolve.

  Fortunately, NCS had an app for everything. Jack laughed and pulled his smartphone from his pocket. “You don’t believe I’m Aldo’s cousin? Would you believe his dear old nonna?

  “Phone, call Tia Salemo.”

  * * *

  “Aldo Salemo, you should be ashamed of yourself for dragging your poor old confused dear granny into this.” Lettie glared at Aldo after he ended the call with his grandmother.

  The other women crowding the store nodded their agreement and murmured encouragement to Lettie.

  Aldo glared back at them. “Nonna is not confused. Are you insulting my nonna? No one insults Nonna and gets away with it.” He made an Italian hand gesture that Willow was pretty well convinced meant something rude.