by JoAnn Durgin
Even through the closed windows of his rental car, he’d heard Christmas music playing as bundled-up townspeople, smiling and with arms full of packages, poked in and out of cute little shops. Life’s unexpected detours were made for a place like Starlight. Kind of like one of those Norman Rockwell towns where people went caroling and shared cups of hot chocolate afterward. The old stone church he’d seen in the town square probably featured a live nativity. How nice it would be to visit family here for the holidays. Nice to have a family.
When the bell jingled again, Dante’s senses heightened to full alert as Amanda reentered Barney’s. At least the wind had died down, and she closed the door with ease.
“Want the usual, honey?” Caroline called from a table across the diner.
“Sounds good. Thanks.” Rubbing her hands together, Amanda seated herself on the counter stool next to him, still shivering. She removed her hat and placed it with her gloves and the box of cookies on the counter. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
He sipped from his mug for the first time and then winced. Stronger than espresso. He cupped a fist over his mouth and coughed. Caroline Picasso made one mean cup of coffee. From the corner of his eye, he caught Amanda’s amusement. If he ever played a soccer match with this brew in him, he’d be all over the place, his on-the-field performance either brilliant or so hyper he’d make careless mistakes. “Tell the truth, Amanda.” Coughing again, he thumped a curled fist against his chest. “You’ve looked forward to this all day?”
When she leaned close, he caught a whiff of vanilla and cinnamon. He never realized scents he’d associated with cooking could be so…tantalizing. “Notice I didn’t say the coffee was good.” Amanda angled her head to the corner where Caroline talked with her customers. “She has a heart of gold and can work a room like no one else. Guaranteed by the time you leave Barney’s tonight, you’ll have a lifelong friend.”
Two lifelong friends would be even better, but she was right. “Si. Caroline’s simpatico.” So was the woman seated next to him. Amanda radiated a spontaneous, overflowing joy. A natural effervescence. She had a spark—faith, healthy living, a certain energy perhaps—that appealed to him on much more than a physical level. Yeah, maybe he was losing it. He probably just needed some decent sleep.
“I take it you haven’t stopped off at the house yet, Amanda?” With the coffeepot in one hand, Caroline pulled another red mug from a shelf. She filled the cup with the steaming liquid and put it on the counter.
“Thanks,” Amanda said. “I wanted to surprise Jake, but the closer I came to Starlight, I figured I’d better give him a two-minute warning. Besides, I needed to work out the kinks in my system and revive a little.”
“He’ll sure be glad to see you, honey, and I know you and Julia will have fun getting ready for the wedding. When are your folks planning on making the drive?”
“They’ve decided their driving days are over. To which the rest of the world says a big amen,” Amanda said with a small grin. “Mom and Dad are flying in three days before the big day.”
“Want something to eat? Some of your brother’s special recipe chili before you head over to the old homestead? Marv made up a fresh pot this afternoon.”
“I’m not that hungry,” Amanda said. “How about a blueberry muffin?”
Caroline nodded. “Coming right up, sweetie.” She turned her attention to him. “How about you, Dante? See anything that looks good?”
He chewed the inside of his cheek, amused by Caroline’s insinuation. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got that’s healthy, per favore.”
As she refreshed his coffee, Caroline frowned.
“Signora, do you have something against healthy eating?”
“Not at all, but I sure hope you’re not one of those vegans.” She waved a hand. “Veggies, vegans…whatever you kids are calling it these days. Just be quiet and eat your beef, people. I’ll never understand all the fuss. Mankind existed for centuries as carnivores.”
Amanda nudged his arm. “Helpful hint. The bread’s baked fresh at Martha’s every morning, and the sandwiches are great here.”
“Grazie,” he said. “I’ll take a pastrami on rye with mustard. Do you have that?”
Caroline wagged a finger, but her smile reached her eyes. “I think I might. Give me a couple of minutes, and it’ll be right up. I’ll throw a few sea salt chips on your plate, too, if you don’t object to those. Supposed to be healthier.”
“Fine. Take your time.”
Amanda waved to one of the old-timers. Interesting how a pretty girl paying attention to an old man could bring a sparkle to the senior’s eyes and a flush to his cheeks. Then again, Dante probably still had that ridiculous, I’m-infatuated-by-a-girl expression on his own face. Who wouldn’t around a woman like Amanda?
“What brings you to Starlight, Dante?” Amanda’s gaze met his over the rim of her mug.
How to answer? “I saw the billboard on the highway and thought I’d enjoy some small-town charm and a good meal.” Truthful, yes, but something held him back from telling her about the letter. This was a great change of pace, sitting beside a gorgeous woman with no obligations, no commitments, and talking about something other than professional soccer.
“When’s your brother’s wedding?” He turned on the counter stool, and their knees bumped. He smiled. She smiled back, and neither one moved.
A wistful expression crossed her features. “New Year’s Eve. Romantic, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” Feeling brave, he chanced another sip of the strong coffee.
Someone from a nearby table called to Amanda. “Excuse me a minute.” She scooted off the counter stool and traversed the room, nodding at customers and exchanging a quick hug here and there. Everyone adored this woman, and it was easy to see why. He was half in love with her after knowing her only a few minutes. What he’d seen in those warm eyes was a reflection of what she must see in his eyes. Interest. Curiosity. Attraction. Tempered with regret of what was destined to be a short-lived encounter. Pity. A sense of loss threatened to overwhelm him. Yeah, he must be more tired than he thought.
Caroline emerged from the kitchen and set a plate in front of him with the best-looking sandwich he’d seen in months. At least it’d help distract him and absorb some of the caffeine since he’d have plenty to spare. “Thank you, Miss Caroline.”
“Welcome.” She placed Amanda’s plate with the muffin on the counter. “Eat up, now. Plenty more where that came from.”
Might as well show her the letter before Amanda returned. “Caroline, I had a specific reason in coming to Starlight.” Dante unzipped his down jacket and pulled out the note, smoothing it on the counter. “I’m here to see a kid named”—his eyes scanned the big, printed letters on the white, lined paper—“Andrew.”
“Andrew Sinclair? That’s the only Andrew I know of in Starlight.”
“Could be. It says Andrew from Starlight, Iowa, and it’s signed by…”—he skimmed to the bottom—“Tyler.”
“That’s the Sinclair boys, all right. May I please see that?” Taking the paper, Caroline read the letter, and the line between her brows deepened. “Well, I’ll be…” Her lips thinned, and her skin paled. She handed it back to him. “I’ll tell you one thing. Tyler Sinclair didn’t write this.”
4
Caroline’s declaration stumped Dante. “How can you tell?” Kids sometimes wrote bogus letters claiming they were sick or that someone in their family was seriously ill. The letter was a simple request to please stop by Barney’s Diner—if he was ever near Starlight, Iowa—and ask the lady there for directions.
“No offense, but I doubt the Sinclair boys have heard of you. Soccer’s not all that big here, and those kids wouldn’t lie.” With a frown, Caroline left to go take an order.
Dante bowed his head to pray, something he hadn’t done in longer than he cared to admit. Not because he thought she expected it but because he’d missed it. No time like the present to g
et back on track. The absence of prayer in his life was nothing more than a lack of personal commitment and outright negligence although there’d been a time when he’d doubted God cared a whit about him. Tuning out everything and everyone, Dante closed his eyes and concentrated on giving proper thanks.
By the time he finished, Amanda sat beside him, nibbling on her muffin. “So, tell me the short version of your story, per favore.”
“Seems you know some Italian.”
She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee before answering. “Si. Only a few basic words and tourist phrases. You don’t sound Italian-born. I detect a bit of a drawl in there somewhere.”
“Justis, Texas, born and raised,” he said. “Starlight reminds me of Justis, but I’ve lived outside of Rome the last five years.”
Amanda’s eyes grew rounder, and he could see her force down her bite.
“Europe’s an entirely different environment, but people in cities—no matter where in the world—seem to have a natural reservation about them. Kind of like an inherent wariness and distrust, sorry to say.”
“That’s sad,” she said, “but I understand what you’re saying. That’s one reason I always like coming home.” She grinned. “Starlight, Iowa, born and raised. The people here are the best in the world. At least they are to me.”
Amanda offered him a bite of her muffin. He declined but smiled when she asked to try his pastrami. When he pushed the plate toward her, she used a knife to cut off a small section. After sampling the bite, she gave a thumbs-up sign.
He chuckled when she eyed his chips. “Help yourself.”
She popped one in her mouth. Most of the women he knew wouldn’t go within a mile of a potato chip. This woman could rival any of them in the looks department, yet he suspected her appetite was normal and healthy. While slender, she didn’t seem the type to unnecessarily deprive herself.
“Guess I was hungrier than I thought. Sharing our food means we’re friends for life, you know. Wanna link pinkies?” Amanda laughed when he quirked a brow. Reaching for his hand, she wrapped her little finger around his, intertwining them. “I haven’t done that in years. Thank you for indulging my inner teenager and need to mooch. I’m really not nutty, just exhausted.”
“Sounds good to me.” He swallowed another bite. “The friends forever part, and I don’t think you’re nutty. Not at all.” At that moment, he’d indulge her any whim.
“What’s that big ring you wear?”
He almost choked on his next bite. “Sports ring.”
“Figures.” She sneaked another chip from his plate.
Her comment made him curious, but he wasn’t about to ask and possibly encourage more discussion. As it was, he’d slipped his right hand beneath the counter and hoped she wouldn’t ask anything more about the ring.
Although he knew he was digging himself in deeper, Dante ate slower than he’d eaten any meal of his life. In answer to his questions, Amanda told him she’d earned her teaching degree from Iowa State and helped her parents settle in Florida two years ago. While there, she’d met the principal of the local high school who invited her to apply for a full-time teaching position.
Listening to Amanda’s stories, he appreciated her little quirks—how her voice went soft when talking about things or people she loved, the way one corner of her lip lifted higher than the other, how she raised her gaze to his with a shyness at times. The depth and clarity of those brown eyes held an unspoiled innocence most women no longer considered sacred. Wow, he’d become jaded. Being around Amanda, even for a short time, could restore his hope that he’d one day find a woman who still believed in the values he’d been raised to revere.
“So, even though I didn’t intend to stay in Florida, God had other plans,” Amanda said, startling Dante from his daydreaming. “He’s sneaky that way sometimes, but who am I to question His will? If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that His ways are best. The Lord wants the best for us, too, but it’s up to us to listen. Don’t you agree?”
Those big brown eyes could easily be his undoing. How wonderful it must be to have such an accepting, uncomplicated faith. Amanda talked about Jesus like a personal friend and with an almost tangible passion. A passion he’d once shared but lost somewhere along the way. No, “lost” was too strong a word…more like misplaced.
“You are wise beyond your years, Amanda.” Dante finished the last bite of his sandwich and then drained the coffee. He grimaced when he spied grounds settled on the bottom. He forced himself to his feet, in part to resist the strong lure of the woman beside him, as he tugged his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, ladies. Thanks for the meal, Miss Caroline,” he called to the older woman. “Time to get on my way.”
He tossed a bill on the counter without a second glance. Every bill in there would be more than enough to cover the meal, no price too high for the privilege and honor of meeting these two special women. His mother and sister would love them. What a random thought. Why would he think of something like that after seven long years?
“Dante, isn’t there someone you need to see before you leave town? I didn’t figure you for a man who doesn’t finish what he starts.” Although devoid of accusation, Caroline’s tone dripped with irony. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. Those piercing blue eyes implored him to stay. Talk about a straight shooter. This woman saw far more than the surface, and Dante figured she’d had him pegged from the minute he’d walked into Barney’s Diner.
Hadn’t Caroline as much as admitted the letter he’d received was a fraud? If not, what was that whole can’t-tell-a-lie speech about? A smart aleck comment hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he’d learned tact and self-restraint earned more respect than shooting off his mouth. Whether dealing with the overzealous media bent on inventing a juicy scandal or a feisty older woman in small town Iowa, who seemed to care about him for some unknown reason, it all boiled down to integrity.
Amanda’s wide-eyed gaze moved back and forth between them as if she couldn’t fathom what to make of this exchange.
He wasn’t quite sure himself, but everything in him urged him to stay longer. “Maybe I’ll catch him another time.” Guilt wound its way into his subconscious even as the words tripped over his tongue.
Those eyes of Caroline’s, so like his Gran’s, were starting to get to him. What could he do? He didn’t belong in Starlight. “Tell him I stopped in town but had to keep moving, per favore. You seem very resourceful. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
“Yeah, well, I try my best.” Disappointment turned down the corners of her mouth as Caroline walked away, shaking her head.
“I appreciate it, signora.” All he needed to do was put one foot in front of the other and walk out that front door. He gave Amanda as warm a smile as he could muster even as his spirits sank lower. Why should he care he’d let down an old woman in a diner? Because you do. “It’s been an honor to meet you, Miss Marston. Ciao.”
“You, too. Have a nice…life, Dante.”
Most women tried to ingratiate themselves in his life and wanted whatever he was willing to share or give. Not this woman. He wouldn’t be a full-blooded man if her attitude hadn’t issued an irresistible, if unspoken, challenge. Amanda had dismissed him, sipped her coffee, and wished him well on his life’s journey with a casual good-bye. Well, fine. He owed no one any explanations. Blip on the radar. Keep moving.
“You, too.” When Dante started to tip his hat to her, the realization hit him that he’d left it on the counter stool.
Without missing a beat, Amanda reached for the hat and flung it at him with precise aim. He caught it one-handed.
“Grazie. Great toss.”
“Great catch.”
Although he’d heard it many times in his career, it’d never meant the same thing as it did coming from Amanda’s lips now.
“I know how Texans revere their Stetsons,” she said. “I wouldn’t want you to leave Starlight and re
alize later on that you’d forgotten something important here at Barney’s.”
Seemed Amanda was every bit the straight-shooter as Miss Caroline, and her words weren’t lost on him. Dante dipped his head, positioned the Stetson, and ran his fingers around its brim.
“Why do men always do that? Run their fingers around the edge of their cowboy hats?”
Eyeing her for a few seconds, he tried to come up with an answer she might actually believe. “They get a lot of wear and tear and it helps reshape it once it’s on my head.” He had no idea, but it sounded plausible.
She shrugged. “Makes sense. I always kind of wondered about that.”
“The truth? John Wayne and Clint Eastwood do it in their movies. For whatever reason, it comes naturally.”
“Oh, so you do it for the coolness quotient.” It wasn’t a question.
“Worked on you, signorina.” Now he was flirting? He needed to get out of Starlight. Now.
“Curiosity doesn’t necessarily imply interest.”
“Che piacere conoscervi…spero ci sia una prossima volta, arrivederci.”
Amanda’s brows rose. “Care to translate? You have the unfair advantage, you know.”
He zeroed in on her lovely, clear brown eyes. “I’m delighted to have met you, and I hope there’s a next time.”
Something he couldn’t translate flickered in her expression and caused his breathing to slow. “I don’t know how to say it in Italian, but likewise. Ciao, Italian Cowboy.”
“Ciao.” Regret flooded his senses as he tugged open the door and stepped outside, breathing in the brisk evening air to clear his head. The clanging of the bell behind him only reinforced how alone he was in the world. At least for the past hour, he’d been welcomed and appreciated by two very different but incredible women. For the first time in years, he felt like the cowboy from little Justis, Texas, again. No more, no less. And that felt pretty good.