Somebody To Love

by Wendy Vella

  Friends for life, he’d said to her that final day. Later, when a few years and many miles passed between them, she realized how foolish she’d been to believe that. Life had no certainties. The scars on her arm and hand told her that.

  Bailey pushed some hair that had come free off her forehead, and realized her hand was shaking. Making herself move, as she was standing in the main street staring at nothing, she headed to where she’d parked her car. Get a grip, Bailey. You’ve had worse shocks, and you knew coming back here meant there was always the possibility of bumping into him.

  She’d seen Joe.

  At thirty now, he was a seriously handsome man. Big and broad shouldered, his hair darker, the thick black locks cut short. Piercing green eyes, black lashes and brows, and his face had fewer hard angles than as a teenager, and more chiseled planes and interesting lines now. A strong jaw, high cheekbones, and a nose that started out straight, then veered slightly to the right. His father had done that to him.

  Bailey had kept in touch with her childhood friend Maggie by writing a letter each week. Her grandfather had not been able to take that away from her. She’d never asked about Joe though, because no one knew what they had once meant to each other. The urge had been there, but she’d fought it. He was a taboo subject as far as Bailey was concerned. Which begs the question as to why I came back?

  “Hey, watch out!”

  Hands grabbed her, lifting Bailey off her feet. She watched a car pass, and realized she’d been about to walk out in front of it.

  “You need to check left and right before stepping off the curb, ma’am.”

  “I’m sorry, I-I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  Her rescuer was tall, with dark hair, and had a nice smile that reached his green eyes. She knew those eyes.

  “We don’t get many people run down on the main street of Ryker, but you were about to be one of them.”

  He stuck out a hand, and Bailey found herself shaking it. It felt large and warm wrapped around her fingers.

  “Luke Trainer.”

  Joe’s baby brother. Bailey’s memories of him were of a sad, solemn boy who was always dressed in his big brother’s castoffs that hung on his skinny frame. There was no resemblance in the healthy, handsome man before her.

  “Hi.” Bailey didn’t give her name. She was already off-balance, and didn’t need another reunion right now. What she needed was to reach her car and regroup. Seeing Joe had unsettled her way more than she’d thought it would.

  “You’re a firefighter?” Bailey read the words on his navy cap.

  “I am.”

  “I’m glad,” Bailey said, because she was. Joe had once worried about the youngest Trainer, confiding in Bailey that he thought Luke had suffered the most at the hands of their father, and that he’d bear the scars for many years, if not always.

  “So am I.” He gave her a gentle smile, and Bailey guessed that was because she’d sounded crazy telling him, supposedly a perfect stranger, she was happy he was a firefighter.

  The sound of a dog baying had them turning.

  “Shut it down, Buzz, I’ll be there in second,” Luke Trainer said.

  The dog was huge, like a small black bear with a thick shaggy coat and orange ruff around its neck. He had a white patch of hair on his forehead and each paw.

  “He’s my brother Joe’s dog, but he’s pretty much loved by everyone around here.”

  “I want a big, black shaggy dog when I get a place one day, Bailey.” She remembered that conversation clearly, like she did so many of the ones she and Joe had shared.

  “Ah, thanks, Luke, for helping me.” She dragged her eyes from the dog. “Bye.” Lifting a hand, she looked left and right, then ran across the street clutching the small bag of groceries.

  Fumbling with her keys when she reached the car, Bailey managed to get the door open and scrambled inside, slamming it behind her. Dumping her things on the passenger seat, she leaned on the steering wheel, closing her eyes.

  “You shouldn’t have come back.” Banging her head twice, Bailey told herself to turn the key in the ignition and drive out of Ryker Falls. She had been a fool coming here, and didn’t even know what had possessed her to do so. Curiosity? Longing? Closure? Scrunching her eyes tight, she tried to find focus. Find a direction to head in.

  Opening the bag of groceries, she found the Apple Sours, ripped open the box, and poured them straight into her mouth. The sweet, sour hit jolted her senses.

  “Better.” She inhaled again, then swallowed down a few more.

  A year ago Bailey’s life had derailed, and she’d been unsettled ever since. Three months ago she’d packed up her things and taken to the road, going from one place to another, but in her heart, she had always been heading here, to the place she was born. What she didn’t know was why. Why come back to the memories and pain of the life she’d once led in Ryker Falls?

  Turning the key in the ignition, she fired her sedan to life and headed down the main street of Ryker Falls.

  The last time she’d walked through this town, things had looked vastly different. The shops had been tired, and the town a small community with little to recommend it to tourists. Her father had loved it here, and her mother had always wanted to leave, which had not made family life harmonious.

  Passing the quaint storefronts, some brick, others wood, in varying shapes and sizes, Bailey thought it looked good now. Some had striped canopies, others hanging baskets. Color was everywhere she turned. And the many people on the streets told her Ryker had come a long way in the years since she’d left. Wrought iron lamps had frosted globes that Bailey imagined were pretty at night. Trees had been planted, and offered shade to those who sat on the benches underneath.

  Reaching the end of town, Bailey went left and followed the river road that looped back to the beginning of town. She found medical facilities, and the school had been extended. The boardwalk had changed too. No longer just a long stretch of boards, it now had a row of shops adjacent to half of it, looking over the sea. Parking the car, Bailey got out and wandered for a bit, finding a football field and basketball courts further down the road.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning.” Bailey acknowledged the elderly women who were walking by. Both were dressed immaculately in floral dresses, their hair snow white and cut in matching bobs. Both wore heels high enough to give Bailey a nosebleed. She knew instantly who they were; if she hadn’t, the shoes would have given them away.

  “A bit cooler now, but still pleasant.”

  Bailey looked at the sky. “Certainly looks like it will be a nice day, Miss Marla.”

  The women came closer, and she noted the lines that had not been there before. She guessed the Robbins sisters were close to sixty-five now.

  “Bailey Jones!”

  “Hello, Miss Marla, Miss Sarah.” The sisters had been teaching when she’d last been in Ryker Falls. In fact it was Miss Sarah who had first introduced Bailey to the piano.

  “Marla, it’s Bailey Jones!”

  “I have eyes, Sarah, I can see who’s standing a foot in front of me.”

  Bailey remembered that about them too. The arguments.

  Miss Sarah hurried forward. “Dear, we are so proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” Bailey leaned into the hug, even though she wasn’t big on touching. Her face was then cupped between two soft hands, and she was studied.

  “Well now, my dear. I think it’s past time you came home. You come on in to the tea shop when you’re passing. Right up on the main street, you can’t miss it, and the first cup’s on us.”

  “Tea shop?”

  “We don’t teach anymore, Bailey,” Miss Marla said. “We now run Tea Total.”

  “Here in Ryker?”

  “The locals needed a bit of refining, and we were just the girls for the job,” Miss Sarah said. “And now we need to get on, Bailey, dear, as we left Mandy in charge.”

  Mandy was their niece who they’d raised after her father had died s
uddenly, she remembered that because they’d been in the same classes at school. Watching them walk away, she swallowed the tightness in her throat. Back in town a few hours, and she’d met Joe, Luke, and now the Robbins sisters. Shaking her head, Bailey headed to the shops. The one she wanted was third in the row. She looked in the store windows as she walked, and saw a herbalist, massage place, and a greengrocer... with the emphasis on green. Lots of leafy vegetables and baskets of fruit with “organic” written in large lettering. It would be a place to explore, Bailey thought. But for now the shop she wanted was up ahead.

  “Artsy Fartsy?” Bailey read the sign, shaking her head. “Really, Maggie?” Pushing the door open, she walked inside.

  The interior was white, the walls covered with a variety of art, and the shelves and floor held sculptures in a variety of different materials.

  Bailey would have recognized Maggie Anderson anywhere. At thirteen she’d had that shock of red hair, and the promise of the height she now topped. She had a phone cradled against her shoulder while she did something on the computer with her hands. They’d been inseparable and shared everything from their first meeting, until Bailey had left Ryker Falls. Well, not everything , Bailey remembered. She’d told no one about Joe Trainer.

  “Can I help you?”

  Bailey watched Maggie replace the phone and round the counter to head her way. Her hair was shoulder-length and still curled in every direction. Those hazel eyes had once seemed almost too big, but now sat perfectly proportioned in a pretty face. She had a curvaceous body, clothed in a soft, floaty mint-green dress. On her feet were red ankle boots.

  “Maggie.” For the second time that day she felt a fierce surge of emotion, but this one was warm and good. “It’s me, Bailey.”

  Her friend’s painted red lips opened wide, but no sound came out, except a loud squeak. She then ran at Bailey, arms open, and hugged her hard.

  “Bailey!”

  Bailey hadn’t had a lot of hugs in her lifetime; she came from a family that didn’t communicate with physical gestures. In fact, they didn’t communicate at all.

  “Oh my God, Bailey.”

  She was held by the shoulders and studied, then hugged again.

  “Maggs, it’s so good to see you.” And it was, Bailey realized, better than good. Closing her eyes, she leaned in to her old friend and held on.

  “Oh, and you too!” Her friend squealed, holding her at arm’s length again. “You look tired, Bays.”

  “I am. I’ve driven for miles to see you.”

  “How long are you here?”

  “I—ah, I’m not sure, actually.”

  Her friend frowned. “Why haven’t you written me in the last year?”

  “I’ve been busy travelling, you know what my schedule is like.”

  “You always found time to write, Bays. Why did you stop, and don’t lie, I’ll know.”

  Bailey found a smile. Seeing Maggs was lifting her spirits already, even if she was asking questions Bailey didn’t want to answer.

  “Let’s leave the in-depth probing into each other’s lives for now, Maggs. I want you to show me around your gallery, and then I need to find some accommodation.”

  “All right, but I will have the in-depth story before you leave, Bailey.”

  “Sure,” Bailey lied. No way was she discussing the train wreck that her life was, or that now it had derailed, she wasn’t sure how to get it back on track.

  “And you can stay with me while you’re here. I have a spare room.”

  “I can’t do that, Maggs. It wouldn’t be right, with you having a boyfriend.”

  Her friend waved her words away. “If we want to have at each other, we can go to his place.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.” Bailey felt color fill her cheeks.

  “Don’t tell me you’re still a prude, Bailey Jones. You’ve been travelling the world playing piano in exotic places, meeting any number of hot, sexy, rich men. I’m sure you’ve seen and heard things that would make my hair stand on end.”

  Bailey made herself laugh, when the truth was she’d been sheltered and protected her entire life. The usual life lessons hadn’t come to Bailey until she’d escaped from the viselike grip her grandfather had on her. He’d protected her, he’d said, in case she hurt herself, or worse yet, her hands. And yet no amount of protection had saved them in the end.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “ Do we have to do the blindfold thing, Miss Marla?”

  “That’s the deal, Joe, because otherwise you’ll cheat.”

  “How?” Joe sat at the table as Miss Marla moved in behind and tied the scarf around his eyes.

  “You can see the tea.”

  “You know that makes no sense, and you’re just sore because you can’t fool me.”

  “Don’t fight it, Joe.”

  He snorted at Mandy’s words. She was Miss Marla and Miss Sarah’s niece, a quiet woman who rarely spoke, and usually stayed out the back of the teashop. Joe had known her for years, but had to say he knew her no better now than he had when first they’d met.

  “Bring out those scones when you come back, Mandy.”

  “Yes, Aunt Sarah.”

  He listened to the door opening and closing, then the click of one of the Robbins sisters’ heels.

  “How come you don’t have sore feet?”

  “Practice. Plus, they do good things to our legs,” Miss Marla said.

  “Sure, you’re both hot, no disputing that, but don’t you ever wear flats?”

  “When we exercise.”

  “That makes sense. It’d be hell jogging in those.”

  “Such a smart mouth for a handsome boy. Luckily I love your dog; he’s your redeeming feature.”

  “Tell me you didn’t just open that door and let him inside.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t just slip him a biscuit either, right?”

  “No.”

  “So who’s crunching then?”

  “Sarah.”

  He laughed, because it was obviously Buzz. “This town is gonna make him fat.”

  “We wouldn’t do that, would we, sweetie?”

  “Now put him outside before he gets hair everywhere.”

  They grumbled, but he heard the doorbell seconds later. He then heard the sisters say hello to customers.

  Tea Total Tea Shop was an odd thing to have in a Colorado mountain town, and yet it worked. The sisters had been here for years, immigrating when they were in their twenties, to look after their brother’s child after he was killed in a car accident. After teaching the town’s children to conjugate verbs—a major fail on his part—they’d started the tea rooms, where people could get homemade scones, crumpets, and any kind of tea they wanted... and in Joe’s case, plenty he didn’t.

  “Oh now, this is a lovely sight.”

  “What’s a lovely sight?” Joe turned his head, but couldn’t see what Miss Marla was looking at.

  “Here’s our Maggie, and she’s brought Bailey Jones with her, Joe. Not sure if you remember her. Lived here years ago, and Sarah taught her to play the piano. She went on to be a famous concert pianist.” She whispered the words to him, Joe guessed so Bailey couldn’t hear.

  “We done here then?” He wanted the blindfold off, wanted to look at Bailey. Two days she’d been back, and he hadn’t seen her again until now... or not, as the current case may be.

  “You just hold on there, Joe. Sarah’s bringing your tea, and there is no way you will get this one right.” She patted his shoulder.

  “Morning, Miss Marla, Miss Sarah. Hey, Joe, you tasting again?” Maggie arrived first, her voice bright and cheery.

  “I just came in for a scone, Maggs, and they got me in the chair.”

  “They’re persuasive, but here’s the thing, Joe. If you gave in and got some of the tests wrong, they’d ease up on you.”

  “You know I can’t do that, Maggs. I have standards.” He listened for another set of footsteps, his other senses
on high alert for when Bailey drew near.

  “You remember Bailey, Joe?”

  “Sure. Hey, Bailey, how you doing?” He reached for the blindfold, but a hand slapped it away.

  “Introductions can wait. Here it is, Joe. I bet you can’t tell me what it is.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  The words came from Bailey, as did the scent that settled around him. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and totally different from the one she’d had as a thirteen-year-old.

  He took the cup Miss Marla put in his hands and sipped, while behind him Maggs explained what was going on to Bailey.

  They’d been doing this for three years now. He always guessed right, and it infuriated the sisters. So much so that it had become a weekly ritual. He tasted what they put before him, and always guessed right. Okay, maybe he’d missed one or two, but for the most he got it bang on.

  “You really didn’t try too hard with this one, ladies,” Joe said, lowering the cup to its pretty pink saucer. “Marshmallow root, lemon balm, rose hips, with a hint of cinnamon. No, wait.” He held up a hand as Miss Marla started cackling. “There’s lemon in there too.”

  She hissed out a breath.

  “Boy, you don’t even know what ylang-ylang is, how is it you know what’s in that tea?”

  He wasn’t giving that secret away, or the fact that he pored over the internet and ordered teas himself, so he knew what was in theirs.

  “It’s a gift, what can I say?” He took off the blindfold and looked into the frustrated face of Miss Marla. Behind the counter, Miss Sarah was scowling at him. He then made himself stand and look at her.

  “Hi there, Bailey.” She wore a lemon-yellow sweater over a denim skirt. On her feet were sandals, her toes unpainted. Her hair once again was up in that messy knot.

  “Hello, Joe.”

  “You eaten all that candy yet?”

  One side of her mouth lifted as she nodded. “I saw Joe in the grocer’s a few days ago,” she explained to Maggs.

  “She devours that stuff, just like you, Joe,” Maggie added.

  “It’s good.” He shrugged and made himself look away from Bailey. He felt warm in his chest just knowing that she was standing here beside him.