Sam frowned. “Bernie can lay claim to a lot of those.” The oven beeped, the signal that preheating was complete, and Sam slid the lasagna in on the top shelf. “I think her all-time worst match for me was Daniel.”
Holly groaned. “Thank God his family didn’t stay in Murphy long. He even got on our nerves.”
“I know,” Sam said. “If I’d had to endure one more story about how he took down a masked gunman with his bare hands, I would have died. But Bernie thought we were the perfect couple.”
Jami laughed. Bernie had been relentless when it came to Sam. “She was determined to get you hitched.”
“And all the while I had a terrible crush on Kyle.”
Jami looked at her sharply. “You had a crush on Kyle? I thought you guys were just friends.”
“The best. But I also had a crush on him, which I did very well keeping to myself.”
She sure had—she’d even kept it from her two closest friends.
Holly pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Bummer. I would have never gone out with him if I’d known. How come you never told us?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Embarrassed, I guess. I mean, Kyle always went after the gorgeous model types, not the tomboys. I almost told him how I felt the night of the fire. Then I was so glad I didn’t.”
“Really,” Holly said, “being he was the creep who set it.”
Sam took a carrot from the fridge. “We don’t know that for sure.”
Holly narrowed her eyes. “You saw him.”
“I saw someone. Kyle denied it was him.”
Holly huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Of course he denied it.”
Sam removed a flat grater from the drawer and set to work on the carrot. “Anyway,” she said, both her tone and her glare redirecting the conversation, “if Bernie had tried to match me up with someone like Kyle at the time, I wouldn’t have had any complaints. Instead she kept picking losers.”
Jami picked up the notebook Holly had laid on the counter. “Speaking of Bernie, we need to strategize the next phase of Operation Bernie Match-Up.” She led her friends back into the living room. The oven timer would beep when the lasagna was ready to come out. Meanwhile, they’d put their heads together and scheme.
And that was exactly what she needed, the opportunity to focus on someone else’s love life. Because the more she thought about it, the more she was afraid her friends were right.
From the time she’d been old enough to understand fairy tales, Jami had dreamed that Prince Charming would one day ride in on his white horse and carry her away. As she’d gotten older, the dream had matured. The horse had disappeared. The basic premise hadn’t.
Through all the frustration and heartbreak, the dream had simmered, lying dormant in the back of her mind. No matter how bleak her prospects, she’d never given up hope that someday that special someone would ride into her life and sweep her off her feet.
But for that to happen, she would have to be willing to let down her guard and risk her heart.
Otherwise, her prince would never be more than a distant, misty dream.
TWELVE
Jami placed her egg burrito and coffee on the table and slid into a chair, ready for her weekly breakfast with her friends. Except both friends had canceled. Samantha had woken up feeling under the weather, and Holly hadn’t woken up until five minutes ago.
She cast a glance at the door as Bernie stepped inside, clutching several pieces of paper. Bernie’s gaze circled the Grind, then stopped on Jami. Two seconds later, she was beside her. Bernie could move surprisingly fast for her age.
“This is brilliant.” She shook the pages she held. “When this hits the stands, everyone’s going to rush to the Humane Society to adopt a pet.”
“Thanks.” She’d given the draft to Bernie yesterday. It was nice having an expert set of eyes on her work before uploading it to the news folder for Matthew to edit.
At least she’d managed one good piece of journalism. Actually, she’d managed several. Only the McAllister article was giving her fits. It wasn’t coming together at all.
It wasn’t just that she didn’t have the information she needed. Or the permission to use what she had. It was much more personal than that. Since the moment Grant drove away yesterday morning, she’d played through every detail of their time together, searching for something she’d said that he could have taken the wrong way, but had come up blank.
That was because she hadn’t done anything wrong. Everything had been fine between them when she left him after dinner. Whatever Grant’s problem was, it had nothing to do with her. She needed to just forget about him. And she needed to get the article finished, because she’d never be able to put the last two weeks behind her while it was hanging over her head.
Bernie plopped the pages she held down on the table and settled into the chair opposite her. She was beaming, and probably not just from the brilliantly written article.
“You look as if you’re about to burst with good news.”
“Not much.” Bernie shrugged, but the feigned nonchalance didn’t hide the excitement bubbling beneath the surface.
“Have you heard from your secret admirer?” She knew the answer without asking. Two days ago, Holly, Samantha and she had set up phony accounts and e-mailed both Bernie and Hank.
Bernie beamed more brightly. “In fact, I have. I’ve gotten two e-mails from him.”
Two? Holly was staying on top of things. “Any idea who it is?”
“Obviously someone who appreciates good taste.” She rested both elbows on the table and leaned forward. “He says he’s intrigued by everything about me, from my fiery red hair that has as much pizzazz as I do to my colorful wardrobe, which is as unique as its wearer.” She raised her chin. “Those are his words, not mine.”
“Well, it sounds like you’ve made quite an impression.” She picked up her coffee mug and took a long sip.
“Yup. When we get together, we’re going to tour the country on his Harley.”
A quick gulp kept Jami from showering coffee all over the table but induced a coughing spasm. Harley? Where had that come from? She’d composed Tuesday night’s e-mail herself. And Holly likely didn’t mention anything about a motorcycle. “He said that?”
“Well, he didn’t come right out and say it, but it’s how I picture him, wild and daring with just a touch of bad boy. But gentle and caring, too.”
Hank, wild and daring? With a touch of bad boy? At least she got the gentle and caring part right. “You’d better be careful coming up with too many preconceived ideas, or you might be disappointed.”
“Whatever he is, I’m sure I won’t be disappointed. But enough about me.” She sat back in her chair, the radiance instantly fading. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Grant.”
Before she could respond, Hank appeared beside the table. “Good morning, Jami. Sorry to interrupt.” Then he raised a folded sales insert and shook it in Bernie’s face. “What in the Sam Hill is this?”
“What in the Sam Hill is what?” Bernie’s tone, as well as her expression, was all innocence.
“Wayne’s ad.”
“Oh, that.” Bernie gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “You use the same old picture every week. It’s always Hank in his overalls, standing in front of the store.”
Jami raised her brows. That was because Hank was the store manager and that was what he always wore, even to church.
Hank planted one hand on his hip. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s boring. You have to admit, this replacement photo is a whole lot more interesting.”
“I’ll be a laughingstock.” He shook the paper at Bernie once more. “You went too far this time, Bernadette Hopkins.”
With the paper folded, Jami couldn’t see what had Hank so riled up. Whatever it was, it was no simple mistake. Bernie had said she was going to fix him, and judging from Hank’s reaction, she’d outdone herself.
“Oh, Hank, you’re making a mou
ntain out of a molehill.”
“This is no molehill. It’s slander.”
“How do you figure that? Slander is saying something about someone that’s not true.”
“Well, it’s going to make people think things about me that ain’t true.” He opened the paper, then folded it back. “Did you see what she did?”
Before Jami could answer, the newspaper flopped loudly against the table. She slapped her hand over her mouth, but a muffled snort slipped through her fingers anyway. No wonder Hank was fit to be tied.
Bernie had replaced the usual photo that made up the top left-hand corner of Wayne’s ad with one that had to have been altered. As usual, Hank was in his overalls. But only the bottom twelve inches of the legs were visible. The rest was hidden beneath a colorful floral-print dress. A pink silk scarf accessorized the look, along with a big, floppy hat that would put Beulah Fines’s monstrosities to shame.
Once Jami corralled her urge to giggle, she dropped her hand and looked at Bernie. “Where did you get this?”
Bernie’s eyes danced. She was having a lot of fun at Hank’s expense. “It’s priceless, isn’t it? Three or four years ago, we had a harvest party at church. One of the games we played was a relay race, men against women. The women had to pull on men’s jeans, a flannel shirt and suspenders, and the guys had to dress in that.” She pointed toward the paper. “The women won, by the way.”
Hank crossed his arms and glared at Bernie. “You better put the old picture back in and print me an apology, or I’ll sue.”
“All right, all right.” Bernie grinned up at him, obviously not remorseful in the least. “I’ll put the old picture back in. But I’ve got to draw the line at the apology.”
“Well, you owe me something.”
She sat back in her chair, lips pursed as she appeared to toss options around in her mind. Actually, she’d probably made plans for how she was going to handle the fallout before the print was even dry. Bernie was a pro at long-distance scheming. Finally, she sighed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you next week’s ad at fifty percent off.”
“You’ll give us next week’s ad free. Because you’ve already got the money for this one, and we’re not paying for an ad that’s got me in a dress.”
“All right. Free it is. You drive a hard bargain, Hank Dorchester.”
“So no bill next week. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t forget. Now go on. Jami and I have important business.” She made a shooing motion with both hands. “Where were we? Oh, yeah. I can’t believe he just shut you down like that.”
Jami sighed. “I can. Any relationship with him was doomed from the start, for a lot of reasons.”
Hank had gotten as far as the next table before he turned back around, confusion written all over his face. “Who are you talking about?”
Bernie looked up at Hank. “Grant McAllister. He and Jami had been seeing a lot of each other, and things were really heating up. He even kissed her.”
“Bernie!”
“Well, did he?”
“That’s not important.”
“I knew it!” She turned back to Hank wearing a knowing grin. “Then yesterday morning, out of the blue, he turned cold.”
Hank looked back and forth between the two of them, deepening furrows lining his brow. “But you’re engaged to Robert.”
Jami sighed in exasperation. “No, I’m not. I never was.” Couldn’t someone throw a wrench into the gears of the Murphy rumor mill?
Hank’s jaw dropped as understanding swept away his confusion. “Uh-oh.”
Bernie looked at him sharply. “Uh-oh what?”
“I told Grant Jami’s engaged.”
Jami slumped in the chair, her gut filling with lead. The lie Grant had accused her of. The secret he’d tried to get her to confess. Now it all made sense. Apparently Beulah’s latest bit of gossip had made it to everyone except Hank. Now Grant believed she had duped him, just like his ex-wife. Oh, Lord, please give me a chance to make this right.
Bernie’s reaction wasn’t nearly as calm. Her eyes lit with fire, and she jumped from her chair. “You did what? You big clod!”
She snatched the sales paper from the table, probably because it was the nearest thing she could grab that wouldn’t result in a battery charge, and proceeded to beat him with it.
He raised an arm in defense. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I ran into him at Hot Spot. Jami was there, and he was looking at her with puppy-dog eyes.” He emitted a small groan. “Oh, man. I messed up.”
“You sure did.” Bernie wrapped one wiry hand around his wrist and forced him into the chair next to her. “We’ve gotta fix this.”
“We?”
“You bet your bonnie blue britches we. You’re the one who messed this up, and you’re gonna help me fix it.”
He looked at her across the table. “I’m sorry, Jami.”
“Don’t apologize, Hank. There’s nothing to fix. Grant and I are just friends.” That kiss had affected her way more than it had him. Otherwise, he would have talked to her and tried to clear up the misunderstanding.
Bernie pulled a smartphone from the purse on the table, and Jami’s jaw dropped. “What are you doing with my phone?”
“Calling Grant.” Her fingers worked over the screen. “Here he is.” She sank into the chair next to Hank. “But I’m going to call him from my phone. He probably won’t take calls from yours since this bozo messed everything up.” She emphasized the last few words with a glare cast his way.
Jami shook her head. She would let Bernie go ahead and make the call, partly because she really wanted Grant to know the truth and partly because trying to dissuade Bernie would be a lost cause. When one of her matches was at stake, she was a mama pit bull.
Bernie put the number into her own phone, then pressed it to her ear. “Grant? Bernie Hopkins here. I’m calling to clear up a big misunderstanding.” She glared at Hank. “Someone was disseminating bad information. Jami’s not engaged.” She was talking fast, probably trying to get all the words out before Grant hung up on her. “Robert and Jami have been friends all their lives, even dated some. And in Murphy, all it takes is two dates, and the news flies from one end of town to the other—you’re getting married and planning to have eight children.” She laughed at her exaggeration, then continued. “Robert’s been trying to get Jami to marry him, but she kept putting him off. She told him a final no around the time you came into town.”
Several seconds of silence passed before Bernie spoke again. “You don’t have to take my word for it. I’ve got Hank here with me.” She passed the phone to Hank.
“Hi, Grant. Bernie’s right.” He continued in his low, slow drawl. “For years, everybody’s been saying Jami and Robert are getting married. And I didn’t know any different.”
Bernie leaned toward the phone. “Hank’s a bit of a doofus.”
He jerked away from her. “No, I’m not. Unlike a certain nosy newspaper reporter, I got more important things to do than keep up with everybody’s personal lives.”
“Well, if you’re not gonna bother to keep up, then don’t perpetuate false rumors.”
“I wasn’t perpetuating anything.”
Jami stifled a laugh. If those two didn’t have something to bicker about, they wouldn’t have anything to say to each other.
Bernie took the phone back from Hank. “So do you believe me now?” After a short pause, she spoke again. “Good. I’m glad we got it straightened out.” She swiped the screen and laid the phone on the table. “Damage control accomplished. The romance of the century is back on.”
Jami shook her head. “Forget it, Bernie. I can’t be with someone who will walk away at the drop of a hat.”
Bernie reached across the table to pat her arm. “Don’t be too hasty, dear.”
“Let’s face it. This match was nothing but one big mistake.” One of a long list of mistakes. Bernie needed to stick with the newspaper business and give up matchmaking.
Jami
sighed. And she would stick with caring for two lovable fur balls and give up fanciful dreams of fairy-tale endings.
Grant pulled into the parking lot of the Cherokee Scout and stopped next to the red Sunbird. Jami was still there, but at a few minutes till five, she should be coming out any minute.
He drew in a deep breath and lifted his hand to the heavy metal heart resting against his chest. After the call from Bernie, he’d retrieved it from the floorboard. The pewter heart represented more than just his first geocache. All Jami meant to him was symbolized in its beautiful, complex pattern.
She wasn’t engaged. She hadn’t lied to him. His mouth lifted in a relieved smile. But guilt and regret tempered the unfettered joy he should have felt. He’d made a huge mistake. Instead of openly communicating with her, he’d offered her vague hints and expected her to read his mind. When she failed, he’d bid her farewell. He’d hurt her again. For the second time, he owed her a huge apology.
The front door of the Scout swung open, and two women walked out, neither of them Jami. But the next time it opened, Bernie came through, Jami behind her. His pulse kicked into overdrive, and he stepped from the car.
The instant Jami’s eyes met his, something flashed across her features. She was happy to see him. Or maybe it was surprise. He circled the Mercedes and met her at the rear quarter panel of her own car. Whatever he’d seen at first was gone now, and the air between them crackled with tension.
He shifted his gaze to the side, where Bernie had reached her green Bug but didn’t make any move to get in.
Okay, he could do this with an audience. “I’m sorry about the way I acted yesterday. I thought you’d lied to me, or intentionally led me astray. You can probably tell lying is a big sore spot with me.”
She gave him a stiff nod. “I understand. Apology accepted.”
He shifted his weight to the other foot. Her guard was up, the warmth in her eyes missing. It was gone from her voice, too.
“Will taking you to dinner make up for my jumping to the wrong conclusion?”
Trust My Heart Page 16