by Laurel Kerr
She spent the afternoon making jam as her grandmother rocked in her chair. June had tried to interest the older woman in knitting, but the activity only frustrated her. Instead, June simply talked to her. Because of her antianxiety medicine, Nan kept nodding off, but June didn’t mind. As long as her grandmother seemed peaceful, June was happy.
Magnus returned home at dusk carrying a bag of food from the Prairie Dog Café. June breathed in the scent of fries and hamburgers. “My, my, does that smell good.”
Magnus chuckled as he distributed the food. “Americans and their grease.”
“As opposed to boiling away the taste.”
“Better on the arteries.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Nan said suddenly as she stared blankly at the food.
June suppressed a sigh. Unfortunately, this had become a common routine. “You just need to eat it, darlin’.”
Her grandmother eyed the sandwich like it was a toothy gator ready to snap. “Too much. I can’t chew all that.”
June reached for the burger. Removing it from the bun, she cut up the meat and put it on a smaller plate. She’d read big helpings could confuse people with dementia. Although Nan hadn’t been diagnosed with that particular disease, June still found the information useful. Her grandmother looked glumly at her plate but began to eat mechanically.
Magnus told them about his day. Evidently, Honey had opened the llama gate just after the zoo’s closing. Although most of the herd had stuck together, a few had broken away. Bowie’s daughter, Abby, had pitched in to help, along with Katie and Lou. Savannah had proved the hardest to corral. Evidently, the little camel treated the whole episode as a game. She’d only returned to the pen for a drink of milk. Magnus showed them the video Katie had posted to the zoo’s website. Even Nan smiled at the animals’ antics.
After dinner, Magnus and Nan talked while June prepped for the next day. When she finished, she got Nan ready for bed. Magnus came in to read to her grandmother, allowing June to head to the shower. She took a long one, letting the hot water beat the day’s stress from her body. When she entered the master bedroom, she found Magnus unpacking his knapsack and laying out his clothes. It struck her that he should just move his belongings from the zoo to her house, but June didn’t believe in casually inviting a man to live with her. A question like that required finesse, and finesse required jam.
“Would you like to try my new creations from last night?” June asked. “I was thinking about going downstairs and grabbing some.”
“I’d never say no to your cooking,” Magnus told her as he settled into the bed with his laptop.
She hurried down the steps and grabbed a couple leftover scones and her two new jellies. Returning to the bedroom, she sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed as she split open a pastry. “Which do you want first? The bacon jam or the apple-ginger? I have to warn you the last one has a hint of apple cider vinegar.”
“Vinegar? In jam? That’s an odd one, hen, even for you.”
“It’s for the pregnancy line. I wanted to include one for heartburn relief.”
“I’ll start with the b-b-bacon jam.”
“Coward.”
“Aye.”
June slathered the scone and handed it to Magnus. He took a bite, and she watched him savor it. She fixed her own pastry with the apple-ginger concoction before she made her first move.
“It’s been nice, having you here. I know Nan loves when you read to her.”
Magnus nodded and ate off another healthy chunk. June smiled. “Since you’ve been sleeping over every night, I was wondering if you’d like to store your belongings in my closet. I could give you a drawer too. That way you won’t be dragging your knapsack all over creation.”
Magnus choked on his scone. He thumped his chest and straightened. June frowned as she reached for his cup of tea, which had been cooling on the nightstand. He accepted it and took a big gulp. She watched as he swallowed.
This was not going as she’d planned.
He regarded her with watery eyes. “I’ll th-h-h-h-think about it, lass.”
She wanted to push. She hated waiting for answers, but she held back. His stutter had worsened, and she knew she’d made him uncomfortable. She was trying very hard not to demand too much. Magnus was as skittish as a newborn colt, and she didn’t want him galloping off.
* * *
“So, the lass asked me to move into her flat above the tea shop,” Magnus told Sorcha and Frida as he leaned against the fence. He’d just brought the little cub for her daily ramble in the grizzly’s enclosure. The polar bear was happily toddling through the exhibit, while the older bruin lay on the ground. Frida raised her head at Magnus’s voice, but Sorcha ignored him as she clambered over the rocks.
“I won’t be here forever,” Magnus continued. Sorcha chose that moment to swivel in his direction. Her black eyes looked as soulful as a wee seal pup’s. Despite the gale brewing inside him, Magnus chuckled softly. “Not you too, Sorcha. One hen asking me for more than I can give is enough.”
Sorcha turned back and took a flying leap at a bright-red ball. Batting it first with her paw, she then chased it. At the movement, Frida shifted with a grunt, inching closer before lying back down to watch the younger bear as carefully as her rheumy eyes would allow. When the peedie bruin got close to the edge of the exhibit, which dropped to form a moat below, Frida lumbered to her feet and growled. Sorcha froze. The old bear herded the cub back to safety. When the grizzly tried to lie back down, Sorcha decided it was time to roughhouse. As the whalp climbed over the elderly bruin and tugged at her fur with her teeth, Frida heaved a huge sigh that bounced off the rocks surrounding them.
Magnus could sympathize with the animal’s resigned exasperation. Right now, he felt yanked in more directions than a Shetland pony fighting its lead. He didn’t mind helping with June’s nan. Obligations had never bothered him. The endless chores hadn’t driven him off the croft. Part of him had enjoyed the rhythm of rural island life. Even hard work had never fashed him.
But he’d hated the expectations. The demands. The sense of someone else dictating his life.
Without thinking, Magnus rubbed the back of his head. He felt the scar. A ridge of puckered skin that should lie smooth and flat. His hand moved to his shoulder and skimmed the hard patch there too.
He growled. At himself. At June. At his da. He didn’t know. Maybe all three.
He ripped his fingers away and clutched the rail of the exhibit. Frida growled playfully at Sorcha. The little bear made a sound in the back of her throat as she pranced in front of the grizzly. Frida lifted a paw and gently bopped the younger bruin. In response, Sorcha attacked the bear’s massive leg.
Magnus exhaled slowly, forcing his rioting blood to calm. What June offered made sense. He was all but living at the tea shop, and she hadn’t cajoled him into coming in the first place. He’d offered. The lass needed help, and he wouldn’t abandon her or her nan.
Only a nyaff would keep dragging his belongings back and forth. The only time he spent in his room at the zoo was when he shoved his knapsack inside in the morning and then grabbed it in the evening before heading to June’s. She was right to offer him space for his things, and he shouldn’t be a bawbag about it. She’d said nothing about making the arrangement permanent. Hell, she hadn’t even offered him a key.
“So, what do you think?” Magnus asked the bears. “Should I move my shite into her flat?”
Both animals ignored him this time. Frida had rolled onto her belly, and Sorcha had climbed on top. The two were snarling at each other. Even Frida appeared to be enjoying herself. A faint smile drifted over Magnus’s face.
“Och, what good are the two of you?” Magnus asked as the bears continued their play.
If he stored his clothes at June’s, he needed to make it clear he wasn’t changing his ultimate plan. As soon as Magnus finished gatherin
g fodder for his next book, he was returning to London. Immediately. And June would understand when he left. She wasn’t his da.
* * *
Fluffy watched Honey curiously. She’d been acting odd lately. Very odd.
Although he’d watched her release the llamas yesterday, she had not been escaping as much as she normally did. Instead, she spent her time digging, even though they each had a perfectly good den.
And when she did leave, she returned with dry sagebrush and grass instead of yummy treats. Any food that she did collect, she gobbled right up. She didn’t even taunt him.
Something had changed. Fluffy just knew it.
* * *
“Where should I stow this, lass?” Magnus asked as he hoisted an old British Army duffel in addition to his trusty knapsack. At the sight of the larger bag, June felt her lips curl into a smile. Magnus was moving his stuff into her rooms. She’d been right not to push him last night.
“I can clear you some space in one of my drawers and my closet,” June said.
Magnus shook his head. “I’ll be keeping my belongings in my holdall.”
“I don’t mind giving you room for your things, darlin’,” June said. “It’s no fun living out of a suitcase.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to it. It’ll make packing easier when I go back to London.”
A whisper of unease slipped through June’s happiness. It wrapped around her heart and settled there. She swallowed, but it didn’t make the uncomfortable feeling disperse. She wasn’t used to feeling like this…at least not anymore.
As a small child, she’d hated when her family inevitably relocated to a new base. Each move meant saying goodbye to all her friends. And it had hurt. A lot.
She vividly remembered crying in the closet, her knees tucked against her chest. In her seven-year-old mind, she’d thought if she hid there and sobbed long enough, her parents would relent. Her mama had found her and crawled in next to her. Stroking June’s hair, she’d pulled her close and said, “June Bug, I know it’s hard to go, but think of all the memories that you’re taking and the ones you’re leaving behind for folks here to enjoy.”
So, June had always focused on that. When she arrived at a new place, she put all her effort into making her time there special. Then, she’d have something to tuck away and bring with her when she left. She worked hard to give people good memories of her too. She supposed that’s why she always fixed things even long after she’d put down a whole system of roots in Sagebrush Flats.
June had gotten used to people sticking around. This was the kind of place that pulled people back like boomerangs. Katie had returned after being away for over a decade. Although June knew Magnus was just passing through, she’d gotten lulled into the comfort of their routine. He seemed to belong here. In Sagebrush. At the zoo. With her.
But she had learned long ago that she couldn’t make people stay, no matter how much she wanted to. So instead, she’d do what she always did. She’d absorb as many memories as she could, and she’d make sure Magnus took plenty with him.
But it would hurt like the dickens when Magnus returned to London. He’d become a part of her, and it was going to feel as if something had been yanked from her soul. But she’d patch it up. She always did.
And she wanted Magnus to depart whole. She hated the thought of him going back to Britain alone. There was only one way to fix that problem: She needed to speed up her search for his mother.
* * *
“You want me to go to a party?” Magnus asked as June made bread dough with her mixer. It was his day off, and her assistant hadn’t arrived yet. He’d thought he’d have a relaxing morn sipping his tea as she buzzed about him, but he’d gravely miscalculated.
“Yes. It would be so much fun!”
“Your bum’s out the window.”
June turned from measuring flour. “My bum is certainly in the window. Everyone loves a party.”
“I don’t,” Magnus said. “And that’s not how you respond to that phrase.”
June smiled and planted a kiss on the tip of his nose. Normally, he found it charming. Now, it made him feel itchy, like the hen was trying to manipulate him. He didn’t like that. Ever since he’d moved his bags into her flat two days ago, he’d felt restless. He didn’t want to get trapped again, and he hoped he hadn’t voluntarily stepped into an inescapable cage.
“It’s to welcome Josh back to Sagebrush, and I’m having it right here at the tea shop. All you have to do is walk downstairs.”
“I’m not a local. I don’t need to be greeting him.”
June’s eyes had gone as green as the summer grass, and Magnus felt a pang when he gazed into them. Baws. He was going to give in, even if he didn’t like it.
“I need a night out, Magnus. Katie’s mom agreed to watch Nan, and I can relax and get away from everything.”
Magnus sighed and took another swig of tea. He would’ve made it stronger if he’d realized they’d be having this conversation. Hell, he might even have mixed up an Irish coffee. “Why don’t I just watch your nan, lass? I can even read her some of my new work.” Which he never let anyone see before he handed it over to his publisher.
“But I want you to be there.” Instead of sparkling like emeralds, her eyes had become as rich as jade. Baws.
“Fine, lass. I’ll come, but I won’t be liking it.”
She gave a happy sound that reminded him of an excited puffin. She flew around the island counter to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek. He grunted.
“You can practice being more open about your stutter and using the post-block technique in public!”
“Now that sounds like a party game,” Magnus said dryly. “Cocktails and prolongation fun.” June, of course, ignored his sarcasm.
“You’re doing such a good job going into the stores here at Sagebrush. I think this would be perfect!”
“If you say so, lass.”
“You won’t regret this,” she promised. “After all, it’s one of my parties. You’ll have a grand old time.”
That, Magnus very much doubted.
Chapter 14
“So, what’s new in Sagebrush?” Josh asked as he sipped the latte June had just made him. Before she could answer, a group of female ski tourists entered the tea shop. They were a smidge or two older than the college students Sagebrush Flats normally attracted, which put them in their midtwenties. When the women spotted Josh’s tall frame, the three tried covertly to give him the once-over, but neither June nor Josh missed their glances.
Josh smiled smoothly as they approached and raised his cup toward them in a salute before taking another drink. “You ladies have come to the right place. My friend here serves the best tea and coffee in town.”
If Katie had been with them, she would have rolled her eyes, but June played right along. She gave the most nonthreatening grin. She never minded being Josh’s wing-woman. After all, she was the one who’d taught him the art of flirting. The poor man had possessed absolutely no game when she’d met him in college. Magnus was practically a Casanova in comparison.
“Josh,” she drawled, “you just give a girl the nicest compliments.” Then she leaned toward the women and pretended to whisper conspiratorially. “He has to. We’ve been friends forever. But he is right. I do serve the best tea and coffee in town. Just don’t tell Karen Montgomery. She runs the Prairie Dog Café, and she’d skin me alive if she heard me. She wins on burgers, but only ’cause I don’t make them here.”
The group laughed politely, but June knew they’d already dismissed her, which was her intent. She leaned back and let Josh do his thing. Hiding a smile, she pretended to clean the spotless counter.
She didn’t blame the women for their interest. Josh was classically handsome, and his auburn hair gave him a roguish charm. Thanks to her tutelage, he dressed impeccably. Although he’d ditched his sui
t for Sagebrush, he wore crisply pressed chinos and a cashmere turtleneck under a taupe suede jacket. It was hard to believe he’d once dressed in only a couple T-shirts and an ill-fitting pair of jeans that had made his lanky body look like a blue string bean.
After June took the women’s orders, Josh flirted some more. By the time she had their food ready, the brunette was texting him her number. Josh flashed one of his debonair smiles as the women departed. He turned back to June, and she shook her head.
“You can dim the wattage, Romeo. That grin won’t dazzle me.”
He leaned over the counter and winked. “But I learned from a master.”
She patted him on the head. “And you have done well, young Jedi.”
He chuckled as he returned his phone to his pocket. “It’s ‘young Padawan,’ but the Star Wars reference is appreciated.”
“It’s fashionable now, darlin’,” June said.
“I wish it had been in high school,” Josh said. “I would have been the most popular guy with my Darth Maul light saber. I saved for over a year to buy that thing.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a status symbol, honey. Even now.”
“You’re probably right. Hard-core fans are deeply divided on Episode I,” he said with a shrug before he changed the subject. “So, my original question still stands. What’s been going on with you and Katie?”
“Katie has graduated from nausea into constant hunger mixed with heartburn. I can barely keep her in jam.” June paused for a moment and gave her old friend a sly smile. “And I’ve shacked up with a man.”
Josh dramatically clutched at his heart. “No!”
She reached over the counter and batted his shoulder. “Don’t go mocking me now.”
“So, who is it?” Josh asked.
“Magnus Gray.”
That succeeded in getting a real reaction out of the Californian. “The woolly Scot?”
June nodded.
“You’re shitting me.”
June shook her head. “I’m not. And you better watch your language, or Nan will make you wash your mouth out with lye soap.”